November Story - Thanksgiving Stuffing (Ch. 4 - Final) (Patreon)

Thanksgiving had officially become my favorite holiday. Even besides the whole Beth thing, I associated it with fond memories. Well, maybe it was because of Beth. I associated Thanksgiving with finding time to play video games and hanging out with Uncle Joe as well. The house always smelled of cooked turkey, stuffing, sweet potatoes with marshmallows, and other good food.

Beth would always overeat, and then even belched in front of the family without excusing herself. I have a random memory of her walking to the living room checking out the football game all the guys were watching. She belched suddenly and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. Dad looked up at her and said, “Jesus, Beth! Anyone would think you’re one of the guys.”

I gladly watched her unbuckle, unbutton, and unzip various types of pants. Undoing all three was the “trifecta” in my head. Watching her sit back with a massive gut with an undone belt, button, and zipper was like admiring the aftermath of a storm. I don’t know how else to describe it. I liked how her belly looked like it broke through her pants, with the belt buckle dangling on the side. Overeating put her in that daze as she headed into a food coma.

She continued to play video games with me every Thanksgiving. We expanded from Mario Kart 64 to GoldenEye 007 to Super Smash Bros., and then when the Game Cube came out, we played the new Melee game.

I got her to stuff herself with my unfinished food one other time – when I was 10-year-old. Again, it was the black bean soup. The bet was against GoldenEye 007. She lost very badly, and wished she hadn’t bet against that game. Unlike last time, she wore jeans, and instantly regretted her decision as she had to undo everything. She sat on the chair at the corner of my room, cradling her bloated belly like she was pregnant.

I poked her belly a couple times. I laughed but she wasn’t having it. I noticed that as I got older, poking and rubbing her belly came off as weird to her. She didn’t say it was weird but she dismissed me with the wave of her hand and said, “No, no, Tommy. Stop. Please.” The seriousness in her tone made me stop.

Mom entered the room and checked in on us. I gave a small gasp withdrawing my hand and looking like I didn’t do anything. Beth nodded towards the television and said, “Your son keeps winning against me.”

Mom looked at the video games, and then back to us. She then said, “You like bellies, Tommy?”

I froze, wide-eyed.

Oh no.

She knows.

Mom then did the cringiest thing. She came up to me and showed me her belly and patted it. She said, “Look, Mom has a belly too!”

Oh man. That was awkward as hell. I stared at her, looked away, and didn’t say anything. I scream internally every time that memory resurfaces.

Beth broke the awkwardness of it for me by saying, “We all ate too much today, didn’t we? That’s how it is every Thanksgiving.”

Mom frowned, only saying “Hm, right,” and lowered her shirt. I think, looking back, she was trying to find something I liked in order to connect with me, without knowing of course why I liked that stuff. She was maybe upset that I grew up wanting to spend time with Beth instead of her (I always asked if Uncle Joe and Aunt Beth would ever come to our house for any reason other than Thanksgiving. Remember what I said about not realizing when you do something really obvious as a kid until after you do it?). I always made an effort to talk to Beth but not my own mother.

I think things changed around middle school. I felt like a grown-up at that point, even though I was only 12. I was smack in the middle of middle school. That’s always a trying time for everyone. Middle school is weird. Going through it makes you feel like you are 65 and know everything about life.

I stopped poking and rubbing Beth’s belly sometime around then. I started to realize that it looked weird. When I was a child, sure, you could get away with stuff like that. As a pre-teen? Starting to feel fucking weird. She wasn’t my direct relative, yeah, but I started to feel weird and conflicted about it. Instead, I directed my fetish towards girls in school. Spoiler alert: that didn’t go so well. It’s never good to start a conversation with a girl, even on AIM (I’m dating myself here) by saying, “So do you like to eat a lot?”

Into high school, I would feel it again whenever Beth belched and even farted in front of the family. As she got older, she got sloppier with that stuff, meaning she became comfortable with our family. I gradually weaned off playing video games with her. It didn’t feel the same now that I was older. I kind of just retreated to my computer, or even dared to join the adults in watching the football game.

I saw her drunk a couple times. That was a fun time. Uncle Joe and Aunt Beth hung out with us for New Year’s Eve several times. She loved rose wine and champagne. When I got old enough to drink, I paid attention more to this fact. She got white-girl wasted in 2012. I’ll never forget that New Year’s Eve Party. She wanted to chug a bottle of Veuve Clicquot Brut to try and time it with the final countdown. Turns out, she did it! I recorded her, and that was the first and only recording I have of her associated with my fetish. I posted it online and it went mildly viral among the fetish community. She started chugging somewhere around 30 seconds left, and finished right when the ball dropped. Everyone cheered and even she looked surprised that she timed it well. Before she could say anything, she let out a monster belch.

BBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPP!

She laughed afterwards, saying, “Oh my God!” You can hear my dad in the back shouting, “Jesus, Beth!” It almost became a tagline at this point.

I grinned when I saw some comments on the video. A few of my fellow friends from the online fetish community commented on it, having no idea who I was. People in the community shared it like, “Yo check this one out!”. People even still comment to this day things like “Who’s the woman who burped???” and “Does she have any more videos???”

Things waned after 2012. Uncle Joe and Aunt Beth moved across states to a cheaper place to live. We didn’t see them as much as before, only sparingly. We got the yearly Christmas cards and phone calls for my birthdays. It wasn’t like the family had a falling out or anything. The usual stuff occupied them – life.

Fast-forward to when I turned 28.

I looked much different than when I was a kid. I used to be clean shaven and slim. Now I was stockier and with a full-grown beard. While some things changed, others didn’t. I lived alone by then. A shitty apartment down by the center of town, maybe an hour away from my parents. When I arrived at my parents for Thanksgiving, I held myself up in my room playing video games until Mom interrupted me.

“Uncle Joe and Aunt Beth are coming by the way.”

I paused my game and looked up at her. “Really?”

She seemingly narrowed her eyes at me, and then said, “Yeah. I’m surprised too. It’ll be nice. Like old times!”

My voice had a bit of longing in it. “Yeah.”

I opened the door for them.

Uncle Joe’s hair started to show some white. His face was more wrinkled but he still had that sharp style and edge about him. He rustled my hair like I was five years old and said, “Hey Tommy! Long time no see!”

Beth still retained that beaming smile and those same dorky glasses. I don’t think she ever even changed her prescription. If anything, she developed a little bit of a double-chin and a couple wrinkles, but she still looked just as great as when I was five. Her jeans started to look like “mom jeans”. It became apparent that her style was, well, going out of style. But to me, she always looked great.

I ate my food this time. Wow, what a change.

During dinner, I also felt like five again since I was left out of the conversation. Uncle Joe and Aunt Beth talked excitedly about their life since their move, and my parents spoke about the family gossip that they missed out on ever since.

I maybe glanced at Beth’s waistline.

She didn’t overeat this time.

After dinner, I went back to my room to spend the night playing video games. Beth then knocked and poked her head in. “You didn’t ask me to play video games with you.”

I shrugged.

“What’s up? Something wrong?”

“Nah. I’m good.”

“Right. Same old, same old, I guess. Watcha playing?”

I showed her the new Zelda game. She only appeared to lightly pay attention, going, “Ah” and “Hm”.

Then, out of nowhere, “You ever gonna bring a girl over to Thanksgiving?”

I stared at her. Then she widened her eyes and said, “I mean. Or a guy. If…I don’t know. I don’t know what your orientation is.”

“No, I’m into girls.”

She nodded. “I see. Well. To be honest, your mother asked me to ask you. She didn’t want to nag you about it.” She rolled her eyes. “You know how mothers are.”

“Right.”

“But you know. I think she’s just worried. Says you don’t do much when you’re here.”

Awkward silence.

“Do you want to play a game?” she said.

I looked at her and there was some hint of sorrow in her voice. Her tone sounded weird to me. Like she was about to break into crying? I thought it must have been my imagination. I didn’t get it at first. But I shook my head and pulled up a chair for her. I set up Mario Tennis Aces.

“God,” she said, “these things changed so much since then. I fell off the bandwagon somewhere after the Wii. I just couldn’t keep up.”

Just like the first time we played, she lost miserably. She laughed aloud. “Ah, that was good. This brings back memories. Although I don’t think I can make those bets anymore. I have to watch my weight now.” She sighed. “That’s what happens when you get older.”

A question popped into my head, one that lingered for the past decade or so. I wasn’t sure if it was my place to ask but I felt comfortable enough around her to just say it.

“How come you and Uncle Joe never had a kid?’

Beth stared at the screen, and right away I knew. She didn’t have to say anything, but she did.

“I can’t have kids, Tommy.” She grimaced, fighting back a few tears. “Such is life.”

Oh fuck. I wasn’t expecting that answer. I turned away from the game, completely forgetting about it.

“Aw, Aunt Beth. I’m so sorry.”

She sighed deeply. “No, it’s okay. But. In a way. You’ve been like a son to us.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

She patted my shoulder and hugged me.

Oof.

#

Uncle Joe passed away from liver failure when I was thirty-eight. He drank a lot in his lifetime, so he always said it would catch up to him. Beth meanwhile developed dementia in her seventies, and then breast cancer. The weird thing is that she couldn’t remember a damn thing about her family…except me.

Mom called me up once and suggested I go see her, since she kept asking about me, and we were thinking that she was nearing the end. I felt nervous. I hadn’t seen her in maybe eight years at that point. They went around the world a lot. I mean, if you couldn’t have kids, you would too probably, wouldn’t you? I remember Uncle Joe said once over the phone that since he knew he was getting older he wanted to cross off things on his bucket list, Beth too.

They said she requested that I arrive after she ate dinner. She wouldn’t allow me to see her otherwise. I thought that was odd. They said that she tended to request weird things every now and then, dementia and all. I went to the hospital alone. I hesitated before stepping into her room. I thought about how time flies, and it still felt like she was the same old Beth from when I was five. I almost didn’t want to go through with seeing her because what if that would ruin my image of her?

Nah. I had to be there for her.

She had the room to herself. She surprisingly looked a bit alert and sat up watching television. Jeopardy! was playing when I got there. She had just finished eating, judging by the tray of food on her lap. She turned to me, her hair all gone but still looking good with those large rectangular glasses.

The first thing she did, was, actually, belch out loud.

I couldn’t help it; I started snickering.

Beth cackled, a little like a witch. She said, in a strained voice, “I’m all doped up. I forget to say excuse me.”

“That’s okay. How are you feeling?’

“I said I’m all doped up. I feel gooood.”

I wasn’t sure whether to be turned on or cry. Maybe both. I grinned a little, scoffing.

A nurse came over to check her vitals. While checking the IV, Beth looked at her dumbly and belted out another loud and long one right in her face. The nurse seemed to hold back a look of dismay, and then left.

“They stuffed me like a turkey for dinner every night,” she said. “They keep feeding you and feeding you. They say it’s good for you. Might help you survive. I’m so fucking full, Timmy.”

“Tommy.”

“BRAAAAUUURRRP—whatever.”

I scoffed again, not knowing what to say. I loitered around the room, looking at all the cards and all the flowers. It was sunny outside, few clouds.

“You shoulda seen my belly,” she said, staring at the television. “Food baby the size of the Death Star. They stuff me like a turkey here, Timmy.”

“Hey,” I said weakly. “It’s me, Tommy.”

She then turned to me sharply. “I know. I know. Why else you think I’m saying what I’m saying?”

I titled my head to the side, curious.

Beth then closed her eyes. She relaxed with a low sigh and sat back. I watched her breathe in and out slowly. Then…I panicked when I couldn’t see her chest rise up and down.

“Aunt Beth?” I said, gripping the railing of the hospital bed.

Beth opened her eyes, suddenly coming alive with a great big roar.

BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUURrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRrrrrrrRRRRRRRrpPPppppPPPP!

After another satisfied sigh, she said, “One more for you, kiddo,” before closing her eyes again.

The End