Guest Author - Pam Garlick

I hadn’t planned on returning to my home town for Thanksgiving last year. I’d had too many unhappy memories from the previous year. But I couldn’t refuse Mom’s plea. She was ill, and she needed my help to keep our Thanksgiving tradition alive.

I guess it was natural she’d call me. I was the oldest daughter. “The keeper of the recipe,” as my sister, Natalia called me. It was the only outward sign it actually bothered her that Mom had taught me everything she knew about cooking, while simply rolling her eyes as my sister rushed out the door to fulfil another social engagement. -- That was Natalia, the social butterfly.

The popular one. I guess she wasn’t the only one who harbored ill feelings. Maybe she was just more open about them.

I wondered if my sister would even be there for Thanksgiving this year. She usually found traditions, like holidays, boring. Then again, there was also the big game. Oh yes, she’d return for the traditional Thanksgiving Day football game against our rival team from Edgemont High. She has once been the lead cheerleader, and was still recognized by everyone, even though eight years had passed since those high school days.

Yes, Natalia shined in that limelight, like I shined in Mom’s kitchen. However, the thought of seeing my sister again wasn’t exactly bringing me joy. Especially when my divorce would be final in only a little over a week, and she was the impetus that changed the course of my marriage.

Then again, perhaps if I weren’t to show up alone. I thought, leaving my office to walk two doors further down the hall to another office in the law firm where I worked. I saw the door open so I stepped inside.

“Do you have any plans for Thanksgiving?” I asked Nick, my fellow junior partner at Peterson, Schmidt and Jones.

“I had thought about taking my favorite female lawyer out for a fancy dinner,” he replied in his familiar British accent, smiling in a way that left me no doubt he was talking about me. We’d been dating on and off for several months. More recently with some regularity. “Like maybe steak and lobster at Mortons.”

“I was wondering if you might opt for something a little more traditional,” I replied. “That is if you are clear to take a few extra days.”

“I don’t see why not,” he replied. “There’s nothing on the docket with the holiday being so close. What briefs I have to go over I can take with me.”

“Good, because my mother’s not well, and she needs me to help make Thanksgiving happen,” I replied. “If I don’t agree, I’m afraid, she’ll do all the work herself in spite of being sick. And she really didn’t sound up to it when she asked me.”

“I hope it’s nothing serious,” Nick stated, humor filling his eyes. “I mean, getting to meet Mom is supposed to be something special. I wouldn’t want her illness to impede the importance of such an event.”

“I’m asking you because I need moral support,” I replied, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. I suddenly had doubts about my asking him. Nick had seemed to want to our relationship to move to a more serious level, but I just wasn’t ready. “It’ll be the first Thanksgiving. . .” I hesitated, then watching his smile fade, I knew I didn’t need to explain. After all, no one knew more than anyone when my divorce would be final. It had been Nick who’d helped me file for the divorce.

The following day we drove from the city toward my hometown. We traveled busy highways taking us from our urban home through the suburbs, and on toward the more rural countryside. Soon we were on the narrow back roads that led to my home town.

It was a typical crisp autumn day, with the wind blowing the brightly colored leaves across the street in front of us as we drove into the town limits.

“I expected a sleepy little town, but this is even more quiet than I expected,” Nick noted as we turned onto the street where I grew up.

“Actually it is more quiet than usual,” I replied, my eyes glancing from side to side, seeing very few people outside even though it was well into morning.

I pulled into the driveway of the big white frame house where I’d grown up, seeing the familiar van that belonged to my older brother, Butch, was already there. I parked and as we got out of the car my burly big brother can out of the house followed by my three nephews. Beyond him I saw his wife, Tess, stepping out onto the porch, her sweatshirt stretched to the limit across her protruding stomach.

I swallowed the lump that formed when I saw her, my onetime best friend. Truth be, she still was the best friend anyone could want. But for the last year I’d distanced myself from both family and friends, especially her and my big brother. Yet, I knew it wasn’t her fault.

I had little time to think about my own disappointments as I was grasped into a giant bear hug from my brother, and felt three sets of smaller arms wrapping around my legs. My heart swelled with the feeling of love I knew I’d missed.

I glanced over my brother’s shoulder at Tess who slowly stepped forward, as if sensing I might not be as happy to see her. Finally I pulled out of my brother’s grasp and faced her, opening my arms wide. She hurried to me and suddenly it was old times. Just two best friends.

How could I hold it against her for being pregnant again? I couldn’t resent her living the dream I’d once had. A dream I’d almost had until a year ago.

I swallowed the lump in my throat that always seemed to be present when I remembered the previous year. I’d just learned I was pregnant a few weeks before Thanksgiving. Freddy and I were elated. He’d wanted me to call and tell my Mom as soon as I found out, but I’d wanted to wait to surprise everyone with the news over Thanksgiving. Unfortunately, a few days before we were scheduled to return to our home, I’d had a miscarriage. Oh, we’d made the trip anyway, but it wasn’t to share our joyous news.

Last year had been the most miserable Thanksgiving ever, in many ways.

“So, have you heard they were going to cancel the big game?” Butch said after I’d made all the introductions and we were headed into the house.

“Cancel the game?” I repeated in surprise. It was akin to canceling Thanksgiving. “Why? What happened?”

“Looks like Mom’s not the only one sick with this bug,” Butch replied. “We almost canceled ourselves with Tess being pregnant. . .” His cheeks flushed as soon as the words were out of his mouth. As though he feared it would be a reminder of the last family Thanksgiving.

I looked to Tess. “Are you sure you should be here?”

“I probably have less chance of catching this than anyone,” she replied. “I’ve had my flu shots. And if these three haven’t exposed me to every germ possible by now, I doubt I’ll get sick.”

We all laughed, then my brother went on to explain more about the impact the illness nearly had on the game. To my surprise it had been decided the game would go on. Only after he and several other alumni had volunteered to play in place of the players who were down with the flu.

“Of course, I promised them the best lawyer I know would draw up something that protects the school if anyone is injured playing.”

I suddenly laughed. “And just the thought of that didn’t deter you old boys from volunteering to get battered playing with a bunch of younger players.”

Butch shrugged. “We figured the other team probably hasn’t escaped the flu. They’re bound to be down a few players too. It’ll even things up. Of course we still could use some extra help. . .” He turned from me to Nick. “You wouldn’t by any chance play football.”

Near as I knew Nick’s only sport was golf on Saturday mornings, so I was surprised when he agreed. “I did play a bit of rugby at university.”

“Great,” my brother took that to mean Nick had agreed. “Now if we only had one or two more players. Especially since the quarterback is down with the bug.” He turned to look at me, a question in his eyes. I knew the moment he’d said quarterback what he was getting at. My soon to be ex-husband used to be quarterback when they had played high school football together.

“Did I hear someone say quarterback?” It was my sister who was suddenly joining in the conversation. Of course any comment about football, especially a quarterback, would not get past Natalia. “Maybe you should call Freddy.”

I gritted my teeth, the forced a smile. “I don’t see any reason to bother him,” I stated.

“I’ll bet it wouldn’t be a bother at all,” she replied. “Unless he’s seeing someone, he probably doesn’t have anything else to do on Thanksgiving.”

I had assumed she’d know what he was, or wasn’t, doing. I mean, for all I knew she and Freddy had been seeing each other since last Thanksgiving. Now that I’d thought about it, I was surprised he wasn’t already here for the holiday. I was surprised I hadn’t thought of that before agreeing to return.

“Would you like to call him? Or, should I?” Natalia asked, her smile one of false innocense, and I knew false innocense when I saw it. -- I’m a lawyer. Then again, I’d had plenty of opportunity to see it on my sister’s face before. Including last year.

“I’ll call him,” I heard myself reply and didn’t even know why. It made no difference to me whether she called or I did.

Freddy didn’t take much coaxing. Once I told him the problem and the fact that Butch had volunteered to act as a substitute player, he immediately agreed. By that evening he was seated with us at the dining room table as we had pizza for dinner. My only satisfaction, before excusing myself to take some soup to my mother who was still in bed, was to see Freddy cautiously eyeing Nick, as though sizing him up.

“Nick used to play rugby at university,” I’d said as though bragging before I left them all at the table to discuss the practice planned for the following day. It would be the only day they’d be able to practice before the game. And I was pretty certain by the time we sat down to our Thanksgiving meal, these men would be feeling every bit of their ages. It had been ten years since Butch and Freddy played football, and Nick was maybe a year older than them.

Of course, Freddy did coach high school football, so I felt pretty certain he’d be in the best shape of the three. Not that I was worried about him.

That was pretty much what I told my mother as I sat with her while she ate her soup. “Seems to me they all need their heads examined,” Mom noted.

“The game must go on,” I teased.

She rolled her eyes. “What must go on is our Thanksgiving dinner,” she replied. “We need to start planning it.”

“There is no we in this,” I stated. “You are too sick to worry about cooking. I’ll have everything under control. I know Tess will help.”

“Those three boys will keep her plenty busy, especially with Butch out practicing to break his neck. Why not ask your sister to help?” Mom suggested, surprising me. Mom had never before trusted my little sister in her kitchen. Not since she was twelve and nearly set the kitchen afire while she was boiling water. – Yes, I said boiling water. -- Trust me, it was not a pretty sight.

“I think she’ll be pretty busy herself,” I replied. While at the table my sister had informed us the cheerleading squad was short of help too because of the flu epidemic, and she had volunteered her services. “I doubt Natalia is interested in helping cook Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Why do you think I’m not interested in helping?” my sister asked from the doorway.

“I figured you’d be too busy practicing cheers,” I replied, hoping my forced smile took the sarcasm out of my words.

“Actually, we could help each other,” she replied. “I can help cook and you can help cheer.”

“Me cheer?” I decided that was a more gracious response than expressing my doubts about her cooking ability.

“I think that’s a wonderful!” My mother pounced right on that idea.

“Mom, I need to be home if we’re going to have Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Hogwash,” Mom said. “We don’t eat until dinnertime. All you have to do is put the turkey in before the game. Most your prep work will be done the day before. You just have to finish after the game. And I can keep my eye on the bird.”

“But you are sick.”

“That’s two days away, Sonia,” Mom stated firmly. “I’ll certainly be able to watch a turkey cook even if I might not feel up to eating it.”

“Then it’s settled,” Natalia agreed. “I’ll help you with the cooking and you will help the cheerleading squad.”

“None of that climbing on each other’s shoulders,” I stated firmly. “And no back flips.”

“Of course not.” Natalia laughed. “Even I’m too old for that.”

So it was, while the men of the household were practicing football the following day, my sister and I joined the remaining members of the cheerleading squad to practice cheers for the big game. It was easy to see my sister was right about there being no acrobatics. Even the regular members of the team didn’t look up to it. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if a few of them didn’t make it to the game. They were looking quite ill.

Later I had to admit, my sister managed to fare pretty well helping me in the kitchen. She seemed delighted to be left in on our mother’s formerly secret recipes. Especially her pumpkin pie, which was a bit of a sore point for me.

You see, Mom’s pumpkin pie had been a bit of a special treat for Freddy and I. For years we were always too stuffed after dinner to actually have room for much more than a taste of her pie. Yet, it never failed we would sneak downstairs long about midnight, like two kids, and put away quite a hefty portion of pie and ice cream. We’d joke it was our special Thanksgiving tradition.

At least until last year. Though we’d still made the trip to Mom’s for Thanksgiving, I was so depressed after losing the baby, I hardly wanted to get out of bed. It was Mom who had brought me dinner in bed that night, and sat a long time with me while I cried. It was her words of wisdom and hope that helped me find the strength to get out of bed around midnight and head downstairs, certain I was going to find my husband in the kitchen ready to share some pie and ice cream.

Oh, I had found him in the kitchen alright. But he was already eating pie and ice cream with my sister. And they were looking right chummy about it. I’d returned to the bedroom, pulling the cover over my head and not coming out again until it was time for us to return home.

It had taken weeks of silent anger before I finally told him what I had seen. And once the words were out, the next words quickly followed. “I want a divorce,” I’d said.

Freddy had packed his things without another word and left that same night. He’d never denied my accusations that something had been going on between him and my sister. As far as I was concerned that meant he was guilty. And though I waited, I eventually did file for divorce. A divorce that would be final in just a few days.

Thanksgiving morning rolled around like usual. But there was nothing usual about it. There was tension in the air as we all sat around Mom’s huge table eating our breakfast. Everyone’s discussion seemed to center on the day’s game. At least most everyone. It seemed every time I’d sneak a peek at my sister and my almost ex-husband, I’d be caught in his green gaze like a deer in the headlights. He seemed just as intent on watching me with Nick.

The day was crisp and cool, perfect for football. The game started. We cheered.

At least I tried to cheer. But it seemed every time the quarterback got tackled my words would get stuck in my mouth. Then finally our cheers turned to gasps as the quarterback was hit and didn’t get up again. Freddy was hurt.

The next thing I knew I was out on the field as they loaded Freddy onto a stretcher and carried him off the field. It looked very much like his leg was broken.

In the end, they decided since I was the closest he had to family I would ride with him to the hospital where it was confirmed it was a break. They immobilized his leg and said he should return for a permanent cast after some of the swelling went down. He was heavily sedated by the time Butch arrived to drive us home.

I was surprised when I entered the house to find that Thanksgiving dinner was very much under control. It seemed Mom had recovered sufficiently to supervise the meal preparations. Natalia and Tess were busy doing as she instructed.

It was I who put a tray together to take up to Freddy later that evening when he awoke from his drug induced sleep. After wolfing down the meal he asked me to stay and give him the details of how the game had gone after he’d been injured. I smiled, filling him in on what I’d learned from the others.

It seemed with Freddy out of the game, they were in desperate need of another quarterback. So, that was when Nick had offered his help. It turned out he was a pretty good player. They went on to win the game. They’d even saved the game ball and given it to Freddy.

“I didn’t think the Brit had it in him,” Freddy said of Nick.

Of course, I didn’t admit I had also been surprised. It seemed disloyal. “Well, he did play rugby in college,” I said. “He never told us he was the Captain of his team.”

“Yeah, well, he didn’t get that good sitting behind a desk in an office.”

“Who knew?” I shrugged.

“I’d have thought you’d know, since you’re so close and all.”

I shrugged again, feeling my cheeks burn. “We have worked together a long time.”

“More than work if he’s important enough to bring home for Thanksgiving.”

“Nick and I are. . . friends,” I replied honestly. “Good friends.”

“Are you dating?” Freddy’s green eyes were intent.

“I don’t that it’s any of your business.”

“Actually, for the next few days it’s very much my business,” Freddy replied. “You are still my wife.”

“Soon to be ex-wife,” I reminded him, suddenly getting up to take his tray back downstairs. “You know, I don’t see why I’m here. My sister is the one who should probably be taking care of you.”

“Why?”

“Aren’t you and she dating?”

He shook his head. “Why would we be? We live miles apart. There’s nothing between us. There never has been.”

I shrugged as though that was of no significance, though my wildly beating heart was saying otherwise.

“You never denied it,” I finally said, pausing at the door.

“I shouldn’t have had to,” he said softly. “You should have trusted me.”

I stiffened. I wanted to justify my actions from the previous year. But to do that I’d have to remember just how terrible I had felt. Instead I reached for the door knob and slowly turned it.

“You know, I wanted our baby just as much as you,” he said softly. “You weren’t the only one who lost a child. I did too.”

I didn’t look back as I stepped out the door, but there were tears flowing down my cheeks as I closed the door behind me.

I composed myself enough to go back downstairs where I found Mom in the living room watching a movie with the boys, while all the adults had gone to a movie. I was greeted in the empty kitchen by the hum of the dishwasher. I sat at the table alone, thinking.

When the dishwasher stopped I unloaded it. Soon my mother came into the kitchen to tell me she and the boys were going to call it a night.

“The others wanted to wait for you,” she stated. “But you looked so tired at dinner, we all figured you’d probably rather stay home and get some rest. Waiting at the hospital can be exhausting. I remember when your father. . .” She stopped, looking wistful.

“Yeah, Mom, you spent a lot of time there. He died a month before Thanksgiving. Yet, you insisted our traditional meal go on as usual. It has ever since.”

She nodded. “I needed normalcy. Now. . .” She shrugged. “I just need an excuse to have my family all here together. Christmas is too hectic what with church on Christmas Even and opening gifts in the morning. Especially for the little ones. So, Thanksgiving is our day for family.”

“For tradition.” I laughed. “And tradition must go on. Even with a flu epidemic. And if someone gets hurt.”

“Well, maybe not that part. But maybe even that wasn’t all bad, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t,” I agreed, knowing she was right. That evening had actually been the first time Freddy and I had talked about what happened the year before.

After she went upstairs with the boys I soon followed. I went to the room Freddy was using and peeked inside, surprised to find he was still awake. He looked at me with serious green eyes, then patted the bed beside him. I knew I could refuse to go back in the room, but I didn’t. There was still so much left unsaid between us.

I was more exhausted than ever after we spend the next hour talking. But it had been necessary. We had to clear the air.

When I left him, on impulse, I went downstairs and took the pumpkin pie from the refrigerator and cut two slices. I was just dipping some vanilla ice cream on top of the slices when the kitchen door opened and in walked two laughing couples. Brad and Tess were first, soon followed by Nick and Natalia. Brad and Tess excused themselves immediately to check on the boys.

Nick and Natalia’s laughter faded as they looked at me. Natalia bit her lip nervously, while Nick took in what I was doing.

“Just another old tradition,” I explained. “Pie and ice cream at midnight.” I glanced at the clock confirming that was what time it was.

Nick nodded. “Sometimes it’s good to keep old traditions alive,” he said as a weak smile crossed his face.

“And sometimes it’s good to start new ones,” I replied, glancing from him to my sister and back again.

He looked at her, then looked at me again. “You never know. Maybe you’re right.”

I didn’t know if I was right about that; but, I did know pie and ice cream with Freddy at midnight, was a tradition I hoped to keep alive for a very, very long time.