All familiar characters belong to Janet. Mistakes are solely mine.
"Did you hear where Mom's spending Thanksgiving?" Valerie asked my wife.
"Yeah. Grandma Mazur told me. Mom's going to pretend to be thankful with Angie Morelli and her family this year," Steph answered.
"Why do you sound weird? You're upset, aren't you? I knew you'd be upset!"
"I'm not upset or even surprised. And I don't sound weird. I'm whispering because Olive fell asleep on me and I do not want to disturb her. This is the first time we've been still since she woke up at five-thirty this morning."
"Can you ask Ranger to send me a picture of you two? I miss those days. Though Lisa spent more time fighting naps than cuddling with me into one."
I watched Steph's face wrinkle in concern. "You're not gonna pop another kid out, are you? My Christmas and birthday shopping-lists are long enough as it is."
"God no. I need more hands just to handle what I already have, but Albert is so cute …"
"Stop there, Val. I don't want nightmares tonight."
Now I'm almost sorry I answered Steph's cell on speaker so she wouldn't miss a call from her sister. I don't want nightmares either. And ones of Kloughn would be far worse than any of my recurring ones.
"Anyway," Valerie was saying, "I called to talk about you, not me. Do you want me to have a chat with Mom? Her eating with the enemy is wrong on so many levels. I heard that Angie Morelli's tag line to clinch an attendance from 'the Helen Plum' was they both lost children. See? So wrong!"
"If by 'lose' she means drove away," my wife said under her breath, kissing Olivia's head when our baby called to a fish in her sleep. "And Joe wouldn't be dead if he'd lived his life differently and stopped believing he knew better than everybody else on the planet, which Mrs. Morelli was partly to blame for. If she had held Joe and Anthony to as high a standard as she did Cathy, maybe there would've been hope for at least one of them to become the type of man their father never was. Angie inviting Mom makes sense if you think about it."
"How so?" Valerie asked, being new to the game of analyzing Helen Plum.
"Mrs. Morelli and Mom have a lot of parenting methods in common. And I use the term 'parenting' loosely. Cathy was told to be perfect and punished if she did anything that Angie Morelli didn't approve of, while the boys got away with behavior that should've got them locked up."
"And Mom let me do anything I wanted, but tried to control everything you did," Val concluded.
"In a way, but you basically did everything she wanted until you divorced Steve. You gave her nothing to complain about. And once Joe resurfaced in my life, she went from warning me against him to making him the Savior and me the damned in every situation. I feel really bad for Anthony's kids, having to grow up in the middle of that family. Add Mom to the equation, and they're all screwed."
"Not necessarily, Babe," I told her. "You were trapped in a similar place as those kids and you got out and became better and stronger than what tried to control you."
"Ranger?!" Valerie squeaked.
"Yeah, Val. Ranger's being a good - and extremely patient - guy by standing near me and holding my cell so I can talk to you. Don't worry, everything we just said … he and I have already gone over about a million times by now."
"Did Stephanie pass along my family's invite for Thanksgiving?" I asked Valerie.
I already know that she and the girls are spending the holiday with Kloughn's family, now that Helen's out of the way and the Kloughns have a chance at holidays with their granddaughters, but I thought she'd appreciate a subject change.
"She did," Valerie told me. "And I was really tempted to accept, but Albert's eyes got all hopeful that I'd choose his family this year. I couldn't disappoint him."
"That's sweet … in a really gross to picture way," my wife so eloquently stated. "Don't forget, we're trading stories the day after."
"I promised that I'd call and I will, but I doubt you'll have anything to bitch about. Grandma Mazur turned us down just to have dinner at the Manosos."
"That's probably because my mother-in-law invited Dad and Aideen. Grandma isn't going to miss out on gathering info she can then use to tick off Mom."
"I'm gonna keep telling myself that's the only reason she doesn't want to spend time with Albert's family."
I tried not to smile at the look in Steph's eyes when they sought mine out. "In Grandma Mazur's defense, they did create Kloughn. That's not always something to brag about."
"I know you're saying that with love," Valerie said to her sister, "so I'll overlook it. We can't all hit the jackpot in every area of our life."
"Not every area," I heard my wife whisper even lower.
My hand tightened into a fist around her phone at the brief flash of grief she let resurface for the mother she'll never have. I just need a face to ram it into.
Valerie didn't hear her and was still picturing the holiday to come. "Promise me that if Ella makes those pumpkin cookies for the guys working that day, you'll steal at least one for me."
"I promise," Steph said, "but it'll cost you."
"Right. Christmas Eve with you, if not Christmas too."
"As long as we understand each other."
"Talk to you tomorrow … and Ranger? That picture please," my sister-in-law prodded before disconnecting.
I took and sent the requested photo and then I placed my wife's phone back on the coffee table.
"I am sooo glad we're going to Newark for Thanksgiving," she said, after a few quiet moments.
Considering that our daughter's still sleeping soundly with her arms and legs carelessly stretched out on either side of her Mama, and her cheek pressed so tightly against Steph's chest … her little lips were forced outward into a 'kissy face', I know my wife wasn't being quiet in an attempt not to wake her. She's almost reverently appreciating the peaceful though chaotic family dinner ahead of us.
I love my family more with every conversation about Helen Plum, or the Burg that created the monster, that I have to hear. And I'll try to remember to be extra thankful for them when we arrive in Newark on Thanksgiving Day.
"It was really sweet of you to invite me," Aideen said to Steph and I, as we all exited our vehicles in the Manoso driveway at exactly one o'clock on the afternoon of the holiday. "And it was nice of your family to go along with it, Carlos."
"Trust me when I say that Ranger's parents would be pis .. ticked …" Steph corrected, looking down at Olivia, "if we didn't. They love expanding their family any way they can, and you being a friend of ours and Dad's means you're one of us now. Plus, you can help distract Olive if she catches any Tank/Mabyn PDA that may happen. We've only made a little progress in convincing her that she doesn't have full custody of her GodTank."
"But I brought you flowers, Olive," Mabyn said from behind us, clearly hearing what Steph said and is now holding out a bouquet of Fall flowers for Olivia. "I actually bought them to give to Mr. and Mrs. Manoso, but I want today to go well between us."
My baby wrapped both arms around the two-foot tall botanical gift and immediately headed up the sidewalk to show her grandparents.
"You can stop worrying that Tank will choose Olive over you," my wife told Mabyn. "There's enough of him to go around, even if Olive doesn't like to share."
"She'll adapt," I assured the couple. "Unlike her Mama, she can embrace change."
"Hah, hah," Steph said to me. "Change is fine as long as it's the good kind. Olive just needs to see that having another aunt to spoil her is a positive thing. She loves her GodTank, and she does love you for making him happy."
"Stop now," Tank ordered.
"Not a chance, Pierre. If you wanted to remain under the radar, you wouldn't have joined us here of all places. How are your parents?" She asked Mabyn.
"Thanks for asking. They're as good as it's possible to be," she replied. "We're going to have our own dinner later today when my father is more lucid. Pierre said he'd join us, so I hope no one will be upset if we leave before dessert." She went quiet for a moment and focused hard on the driveway until Tank pulled her close and she was able to speak again. "I'm not sure how many more holidays we have left, and we want to make the most of them."
That statement brought Helen back to the forefront of my mind. It's hard to decide what's worse … having a parent that doesn't give two shits about you or slowly losing one who means everything to you. From appearance alone, it's easy to see how an illness takes a toll on the entire family. Mabyn has become thinner and the circles under her eyes darker, but her face still lights up whenever Tank catches her eye or wraps an arm around her, so at least she knows she has a safe place to fall apart if she needs to.
"Everyone understands. And I'll make you two a doggy bag full of all the best things. You'll have the best of both worlds," Steph told her. "Ranger's Mom is a great cook and baker, plus Grandma Mazur has been over here every day this week helping out. Her cookies can rival Ella's."
I stopped being nervous having Edna out of my eyesight. She's calmed down since having the freedom to live her life the way she wants to. I'm not stupid enough to let down my guard, but I do feel more comfortable when she's busy doing things with people I trust.
"What are you all still doing out there?!" My mother shouted, already holding Olivia in her arms. "You're going to catch cold. Get in here where you belong!"
"You heard the woman," I told our group. "Say your prayers and head on inside."
"I heard that, Carlos!" Was my mother's reply.
"You were meant to," I told her, as everyone started filing past her into the house after saying a 'Hello' and some version of 'Thank you'.
I kissed her cheek and tried to take my baby back. "No. Your father and I have three days to make up for," she told me, holding tight to Olive. "If I can't have Julie too, I get extra time with this sweet little thing."
I wanted to roll my eyes at the loud smacking kisses she was subjecting my baby to, but Olivia was laughing so I didn't put an end to the torture.
"She's all yours until we leave," Steph told my mom, giving her a one-armed hug while kissing Olivia. "Brace yourself. She's fully napped and raring to go after almost an hour of being in the car to get here. What do we say today, Olive?"
"Obble, dobble."
"Close enough," she told our daughter, smoothing strands of her hair back down that had escaped her ponytail.
I'd guess they made a break for freedom from the fabric turkey, which had to be holding orange and brown flowers, headband Steph stuck on Olivia's head right before we left the Cayenne. In my opinion, this holiday is bad enough with all its pies and carb-laden comfort food without adding supposedly festive headgear to it, but if something makes my ladies happy, I'll suck it up and keep my mouth shut.
"Come in and make yourselves comfortable. Frank, Aideen, Mabyn, how nice it is to see you again. Thank you for coming. Pierre, you know the rules. You stay out of my kitchen," Mama Manoso warned.
Tank had a reason to look nervous. My mother can wield a wooden spoon as effectively as we handle semi-automatic rifles. Mistakenly assuming she wouldn't miss a pumpkin pie when there were three other options on the counter, was a mistake he's never made again. She didn't even need a spoon. A double helping of boiled Brussels sprouts, not the more palatable roasted variety, topped with canned cranberry sauce was all the punishment Tank needed to completely rehabilitate himself before Christmas dinner.
"I promised never to steal another dessert, Mama M.," Tank told her. "And I always keep my word."
My mother nodded, reached way up to affectionately pat his cheek three times, and then smiled when my daughter thumped him with Mabyn's flower-bribe. "And just because you have been such a good boy, I made you your favorite Salted Caramel Pumpkin Pie that you can eat first or save to share with someone special - or some special people - later on in the day."
"Leave the boy alone," my Dad told my mother. "He brought his lady friend home for Thanksgiving, which means he's doing all right on his own."
I felt Tank's eyes cut to me. "Kill me now."
"Sorry," I said, shoving him through the open front door. "You wanted to be part of this family, and there's no turning back once you've been welcomed into the fold."
"Does anyone else find it weird that Tank is being called 'a boy' or 'the boy' when he's close to scraping the paint off the ceiling with his head?" My wife asked, as we moved into the living room, dodging Fall-leaf garlands, white lights that couldn't wait until Christmas, and more pumpkins than the patch Olive chose hers from.
"Consider yourself lucky that you met my family after you were already an adult, Babe, or you'd be forever viewed as the prepubescent version of yourself."
"No one needs a reminder of me before my thirty-first year. I was a mess."
"You were always a hoot, now and back then too," Edna assured her, before she disappeared back into the kitchen.
I tried not to stare too long at my wife's legs, which were left on display thanks to the above-the-knee wine-colored dress she chose for today, and replied to her statement in a way that had nothing to do with her appearance.
"You weren't a mess, Steph. You were a woman who was decades ahead of the Burg in thought and in action. If they couldn't appreciate you, that's their problem … and also their loss."
"Listen to my Carlos," my mother said, not being able to resist a conversation she can butt into. "You grew into who you needed to be … and who mi hijo needed."
The fact that Steph didn't have a ready comeback clued me in to how affected she was by my mother's words.
"Thank you," she said, looking away presumably to follow Olivia when I know she just needed a minute. "I've never been happier. And I have your son and granddaughters, and also everybody here, to thank for that."
"Nonsense. We're all as thankful for you as you are for us. My Julie told me that herself. Now … how about some appetizers?"
"Sounds good. I skipped lunch in preparation for today … but don't tell Ella. She thinks I filled up on the Thanksgiving lunch she made for the guys stuck at Rangeman. The turkey, mashed potato, and homemade cranberry sauce-filled calzones were good, but I limited my consumption of them so I'd have some room left to eat here."
"I did notice that you enjoyed my Asiago Potato stacks the last time you came for dinner. I made them specifically for you."
"I should've worn sweatpants," my wife said under her breath.
"I disagree," I said into her ear. "All kinds of ideas have been forming because of this dress that I plan to explore further when we get home."
"Promise?"
"It's more of a guarantee than just a promise," I teased, kissing her quickly before my siblings give me more shit for not being able to keep my eyes or hands off my wife.
The fact that they consider that an oddity, should have them realizing that there's something wrong with them. I tried to avert my eyes from Celia and Arlen, who seem to believe they're invisible just by finding a quieter corner of the room to make out in, so I figure at least she's too much in love herself to criticize me.
"Mama, see!" Olivia said, passing her Mama an Aster that will never survive her handling of it.
"I do see! What a pretty flower. Did you thank Miss Mabyn for giving them to you?"
She lifted our baby up so she could scan the room. Finding Mabyn nowhere near her GodTank, Olivia was feeling friendlier.
"Fank ooooh, Bin Bin!" She yelled across the living room.
The worried crease that's become a fixture of Mabyn's forehead as her father's illness progressed, relaxed at the genuine happy smile Olive gave her.
"You are very welcome, Olive," she said, stepping carefully closer as though trying not to spook our daughter. "I love flowers as much as you do, and I can't think of a better time to appreciate the beauty of them than today."
Steph smiled at her before flicking her eyes to me. The message in them was clear. If there was ever a year that needs a bright spot flowers can provide … it's this one.
