Fists in the bowl and flour spilling, her eyes darted to the clock. 11:47. Fuck. Late again. Just like last year. Fuck fuck.

I need the food coloring! Andres said. Where’s the food coloring? I can’t make the peppermint martinis without the food coloring.

Left cabinet! I told you, left cabinet! The pork broth boiled and started to spill over.

Can someone turn it off please!

Tommy came in and grabbed a slice of provolone from the fridge, shoving it in his mouth. “My parents are joining us this year! They just texted they won’t be going to Alice’s!

The the stove top spurred out in orange with the hiss of the broth.

“Tommy! The broth!” More flour spilling, grainy on the plastic table covering and the floor. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

“Oh, sorry!” He cut the flame and gave it a stir.

I think this is too dry she said. Last year it wasn’t so dry. Where’d get the flour? This didn’t look like Jaliscos packaging from last year.

“Tommy! Champagne?”

“Yea please, Andres. Ummmmmm Whole Foods?”

The bowl was basically a basin of grainy little balls at this point. More flour spilling. “FUCK!”

“Tommy remember—“ a bang rang from the table. Bone on wood.

“Ow! Funny bone. Tommy, remember, not Whole Foods. We used it two years ago. It’s not good. We already tried. Remember?” Flour now coated the floor and her feet like the dusting of sugar over Andres’s puff pastry wreath. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!”

“Oops, sorry babe. Next time we’ll get it right.”

Ernesto arrived with Valerie. “Sup! Guys. We brought the TV!”

“Why are you bringing in the TV? Ours works fine.”

“Ern! You want some chips? And my parents are coming tomorrow. You should call yours too, Val!”

“That’ll make 26 of us, where are we going to get chairs?” She pulled a stray hair from the bowl.