Thanksgivings

He didn't say it, but the implication was clear. He didn't think it would be safe for us to have sex in the tree house. Frustrated we walked back to the house, hand in hand. We were spotted by Dalia as we approached passing by the tennis court. I could feel her eyes on us and nudged Mike. When he saw her, he dropped my hand and his face went ashen. Then he bolted. I didn't see where he went after he rounded the corner of the house towards the garage. I thought momentarily about giving chase, but I could feel Dalia staring at me. I decided we needed to have that talk but it would have to wait until after the feast.

I approached her as if nothing was going on, but my heart felt like it would beat itself right out of my chest. She was sitting atop the wrought iron railing on the stairs. Her eyes tracked me as I came to the bottom of the steps. I could see she knew Mike and I had talked. It was kind of silly to think otherwise. She'd already confronted him outside and me in the bedroom yesterday evening. I left a long empty silence and allowed her to fill it.

"Okay. You two are being pretty careless."

"How so?"

"Maya, come on. He didn't even wash his face."

I blushed at her admonishment. "We didn't plan on it happening."

"How far are you planning to let this go? Are you trying to hurt him?"

"No, never! Dalia, we - we need to discuss this - away from here. Let's go sit on the dock."

She hopped off the railing and walked beside me. "So if you can't even let people find out while we're talking near the house, how are you going to behave if they do?"

I didn't have a response that I could form into a coherent sentence. Everyone knew Mike and I had been inseparable since Dad passed. "I don't know what people think. We've been close for a long time now."

"Something has obviously changed though."

"Be honest. Aren't you in love with Frank?"

"It's not the same. I'm Frank's caretaker."

Her argument sounded pretty hollow but I let it stand as we approached the dock. The tide was all the way in and it was going to be another warm autumn day and my flannel shirt was going to need to be changed. Some seagulls fluttered in the breeze that picked up as we got closer to the water. I wanted to stay in this moment with the sounds of the water and birds. Dealing with how other people felt about my relationship with Mike was not anything I'd given much consideration. I'd always been consumed with how we might help one another. My courses had begun and I was just a freshman with a little information aside from the self-help books I'd collected. My spirits were falling, I could feel myself slipping away.

"Maya!"

Suddenly my arm was being yanked and I found myself stopped inches from the edge of the dock.

"You don't understand; I'll die without him."

Dalia hurriedly pulled me back. "God, Maya. You nearly fell."

"I'll die without him -" I blubbered on her shoulder.

She comforted me, patting my back gently. Eventually, we sat in the same wooden bench seats Mike and I had occupied the previous day. The breeze blew my hair into my tear streaked face. Dalia was giving me time now, patiently, she waited. A long time passed and eventually, my sobs became the repetitive sighs of post crying. Finally, I looked up at her, wondering why she was pressing this. Why was she trying to dissuade us? There must be more to her concern than her simply thinking Mom would have a broken heart. Especially since Mom had essentially told me she knew. I still wasn't really sure if I'd heard or understood her correctly, but I felt she knew. I felt like the whole thing was caving in on me now and my eyes dropped back to my lap. I'd opened a door I couldn't close and was falling.

"Maya?" I could feel Dalia looking at me with concern.

"Yes?"

"Look. You have to swear not to tell anyone."

"What?"

"Promise you won't tell anyone."

"Okay, I promise. I'd never share anything you told me in confidence, Dalia. You know that."

"Yes, but I've never told you anything this big." There was a long pause. She seemed to be gathering her strength. Finally, she said, "You were right earlier."

"About you and Frank?"

"Yes."

Now I had a million questions. When did it start? Who initiated it? Was it caused by the accident? Did they do anything together while they shared an apartment during college? Can he still - function? Endless questions flooded into my head and at the same instant, I felt a huge sense of relief. I felt she'd shared this with me to put me at ease and it had. Finally, I gathered my thoughts and formed the most basic question that aimed at the heart of the matter. I knew I was right, but I wanted to know the truth. It was really the only question that mattered at that moment, because if I was right, it was the one that most applied to Mike and I.

"It started before you were married to Alex, didn't it?"

"I don't know how you got that from what I said, but - yes. We were in love for a long time before I got married."

"Did Mom know?"

"I honestly don't know, but if we acted anything like you and Mike are, then I suspect she did."

Maybe this was why Mom had told me she didn't care. I wondered about that and then I asked the harder question. "What happened that made you get married?"

She frowned at that and I could see she was struggling to decide if she would tell me. It seemed to pain her terribly - her forehead furrowed and her lips pursed.

"I'm sorry, Dalia. I - I shouldn't have asked."

"No! You need to know. I've been preparing to tell you this for some time now. Ever since you and Mike started to get so close after Dad's death. I knew this would be a talk we'd have to have."

"You've known since then?"

"Maybe because we are so close or because I knew what to look for, but yes, I knew." She took a deep breath. "Maya, I had an abortion."

Suddenly, the whole thing made sense. "It was Frank's?"

"Yes, and it scared me. I wish now that I could undo it, but it's done."

"It was afterward that you met and married Alex?"

"Yes, several months later. I was trying to leave my feelings for Frank behind."

"And it didn't work?"

"No, it didn't. But more than that I was never able to be who I really was with Alex. He cheated on me, but I wasn't a great wife to him either. That isn't the only thing that caused the marriage to end though, Maya. He wanted children and the abortion seems to have messed that up for me. I didn't go to a reputable doctor; I didn't want anyone to know, especially Frank."

"I'm so sorry, Dalia," I said, as I hugged her. "Does Frank know now? Have you been to a doctor since? To have things checked?" I asked.

"No, no and I don't know if I should. Frank and I - I - uh - we - he - oh my God. This is so hard." She paused several long moments... "Maya, we still make love."

Those words spoke volumes. She and Frank were having sex and didn't want to risk having things fixed because there might be children. They'd been lovers for a very long time, since before she was married and now after the accident. She must be thinking if Mike and I have sex the same thing might happen to me. All of her questions and warnings were not to protect Mom; they were meant to protect me.

"Dalia, I can't stop myself. We haven't had sex, but we are going to; I can feel it."

She brushed the tangles of hair from my face and looked me in the eyes. "Maya, I couldn't let you keep going without making you think about the risks."

"I'm on the pill. I started taking it before looking for a boyfriend on campus."

"You were trying to break the spell, too?"

"Yes, but it wasn't working, Dalia, he didn't love me - he just wanted sex. Ever since though, I've stayed on the pill. It seems to make my period less and more regular."

"I wish I'd been on the pill. We'd used condoms, but must have gotten careless. Frank often overflowed them."

"Thanks for telling me all of this, Dalia."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't think there's anyone else for me."

"I know what you are feeling because I feel it every day of my life and regret having ever left Frank. Now, I even wish we'd had the baby. I don't make him wear a condom and I keep hoping against hope that it happens again," she said, starting to cry.

I hugged her close and now I was the one patting her. I didn't really know what to say to her about wanting Frank's baby and wondered why she didn't go get checked out. I wasn't sure if I wanted that for me and Mike. Someday I might, right now I knew one thing, I was convinced now more than ever that Mike and I would be together. I don't know if she knew it or not, but her talk had had the opposite effect on me of what she might have wanted. Somehow we would be together; I wasn't going to repeat what I, and even she by her own admission, felt was her mistake. In an instant, I knew what to say, I wanted for her what she wanted for herself.

"Dalia, I hope it happens too," I whispered.

"We need to get back to the house and you need to wash up," she said.

We walked back to the house together. Inside the mud-room, we parted ways as I went up the back staircase to change my blouse and wash my face.

---

Around 1:00 PM, the family was all gathering and milling around awaiting the big feast. The turkeys had given the house an aroma that simply drew everyone towards the kitchen. Mom had pulled the casseroles from the oven and these were adding to the mixture of smells. Of course the freshly baked biscuits were the smell that reminded me the most of Thanksgivings before Dad passed. He was the biscuit maker in our house and Mom had used his, or perhaps his mother's, recipe. I spotted Mike, his eyes were red again. Mike and I exchanged sad glances across the crowd of family members. I could see it was bringing back memories for him too.

There were three tables set up for the dinner. The dining room would be for the older adults, parents, grandparents, aunt and uncles. The kitchen table would be for all of Mom's children and their spouses and all of the kids would be at the table out in the play room. Of course Rachel and Jon ended up sitting at the kids table to 'supervise'. I figured it was probably some sheltering, but concluded I might behave the same way if I only had one child.

Some items had been placed on each of the tables: hot rolls, gravy boats, cranberry sauce, butter, pitchers of tea and ice water. Ben and David helped Mom with placing sliced turkey and hot casserole dishes on each table. The two tables inside had a couple of carafes of wine and wine glasses were at everyone's place setting along with drink glasses. When the tables were all completed we took our places and people chatted softly as we waited for the prayer.

Mike and I sat at the kitchen table beside one another. I tried to get from him where he'd run off to, but he wouldn't say. I'd changed my shirt to a nice blue blouse after my talk with Dalia on the dock. It matched the light blue shirt Mike had put on before dinner. We hadn't planned to match, but we did. So did Dalia and Frank who were at the kitchen table sitting across from Mike and me. When I looked at Frank now, I could see what was plain - he clearly did love Dalia as much as she loved him. While I understood her fear for us, I couldn't understand how she could see their relationship differently.

Before the meal began, grandpa commenced by saying the Shehecheyanu, a prayer we have said traditionally on the special occasion of Thanksgiving. Although it was really more for Sukkot, our family had used it for Thanksgiving for as long as I could remember. Its recital brought so many memories rushing back. As he spoke, I drifted off into deep thought.

Dad wasn't observant but he'd kept many of the traditions: the naming of the property, the traditional naming of his children, the placement of the mezuzah case, the upkeep of the mezuzot parchments and the presence of various copies of the Torah throughout the house. It was all part of letting us decide for ourselves; they'd kept the faith present, but hadn't imposed it.

Mom and her family were kind of split too, Bubbe was very observant, but Zayde hadn't really been and that seemed to have passed to Mom. Our parents both kept some of the ritual and connectivity to their traditions. When Mike or I had stayed at either of our grandparents' houses, we often went to temple with them. Ben and his wife, Anna, had chosen to be much more involved in the faith as had David and Colleen. Neither of them pressed any of the rest of us to follow suit in this deeply personal decision.

Thanksgiving seemed to provide a safe way to allow these rituals into our home again without forcing things. It had been a reservoir of some of the happiest times in our lives. Misfortune had taken that away for a while, but today I could feel everyone's spirits soaring. When the prayer was finished, I looked around our table and the dining room table. There wasn't a dry eye in the house, but they weren't tears of sorrow, they were tears of joy, of familial union and thankfulness. We each had so much to be thankful for this year.

When grandpa finished, the meal commenced with each person serving themselves some of the food nearest them and then passing the serving dishes in the traditional counter-clockwise fashion. The meal was perfect. There were all of everyone's favorite things prepared by people that loved them. There was really too much food and I couldn't eat much. Mike had some seconds on turkey and biscuits. Frank and Dalia loved that fruity cranberry Jello mold. Everyone ate their fill and settled back in their seats.

Eventually, the conversation returned towards babies and Sarah's due date. It was an avoidance of the other event that occurred near this date, and it was perfectly understandable and even preferable. Unfortunately, that other event remained on my mind throughout the meal even though I was happy, there was that lingering feeling. I missed my Dad and I could see that Mike was in a similar bittersweet melancholy mood. He hardly said a word after the prayer.

When the meal was wrapping up and people began leaving the table, clearing their plates as they left, the adult children assisted with clean up. Mike and I helped Mom clear off and put away the big folding table in the garage/game room. Many hands from the various siblings made light work of the remaining plates and serving dishes inside. Dalia and Rachael were doing double duty on washing dishes, Ben was the designated dryer, and David was appointed to replace the china back into the cabinet in the dining room.

---

After the meal had been cleared away the various family cliques reformed for a time. The ladies were off talking in a few different groups in the family room, den and sitting room while most of the men began discussing the big Dallas versus Saint Louis game and heading towards the game room.

As the men folk were all gathering in the game room, the folding chairs from the kids table were gathered and arranged so there was more seating. There were a couple of long couches, one against the far wall and one near the pool table with a single recliner in the center. A new row of chairs was placed between one long couch and the pool table. Mike had been drafted to clear the snow from the signal on the TV console by adjusting the roof antenna via his custom trimotored system.

They had chips, beer, peanuts and a bunch of different popcorn. I didn't know how they could eat another thing after that lunch. Nearly all of them were Washington fans, although since Washington wasn't playing, they were assembled to root against Dallas. They all agreed there was a certain schadenfreude about that, but then they launched into a long conversation about the Dallas versus Washington game two Thanksgivings ago, where Dallas had come from behind late in the game with an unknown quarterback. They were all agreed that Washington had deserved to win that one. As time got nearer the kick off, they all started converging around the huge 27 inch color TV floor console.

Today's game was in Texas and was set to start around 3:00 PM. Some of the wives had joined, but others remained inside. Mike and I didn't care much for football, but we had pulled up a couple bean bag chairs in the middle to sit with them. Unfortunately, Dallas scored the first touchdown and field goal and went up seven points by the end of the first quarter.

During the commercial break for the first quarter, Mike and I decided to go play some more tennis, since it wasn't looking very good for Saint Louis. Dalia hopped up too and said she'd join us. I suspected she had ulterior motives after our talk, but really didn't object to her playing with us.

We all three headed up the stairs together, Dalia brought up the rear. At Mike's door I turned to see her giving me another odd look as she reached the top. It couldn't be helped; we needed to change and this was our room. I followed Mike into the room and we began changing. As I put on the same short skirt I'd worn yesterday along with a new blouse, that mental image of Mike sniffing my pungent panties flashed through my head and suddenly I was damp again. Mike obliviously swapped his jeans for shorts and a new polo shirt as I looked onward. The moment passed quickly as he retrieved the rackets from his closet and we were back in the hall waiting for Dalia.

A few moments later, Dalia reappeared in the hall with a tight top that accentuated her larger breasts, a short little tennis skirt and some blue Keds with tennis socks that had a little fuzzy ball. She had her wooden racket in hand and her eyes twinkled knowingly at me as I stood there awkwardly.

"Shall we?" Mike asked, as he proceeded to the stairs.

Back out on the tennis court, there were only a few leaves to sweep today. Inhaling deeply, I found my senses inundated with the smell of the tannins and other components that give the decomposition of autumn leaves their unique smell. Looking up I concluded the midday sun and light breeze must have brought these ever so familiar odors to us.

Dalia spoke my thoughts, "God, I love that smell!"

"Yeah, I was just about to comment on it. Perfect weather two days in a row and now the light breeze has brought us these wonderful memories," I agreed.

The younger kids were all out in the yard as well. Today they were playing at crochet. Mellony was alternating helping Mica and Zach. Lev and Aya must have been off somewhere else, maybe they'd gone to the park. Placing the broom in the corner, I wondered to myself if it was odd that our large family had so many apparent introverts.

Mike had gotten the tennis balls and set up the basket near the net. He was doing some stretching with his hands on either end of his racket. Dalia and I took up doubles positions and did the same. After that brief warmup, Mike emptied the basket hitting practice shots to each of us.

Dalia was doing pretty well and Mike asked, "When's the last time you played, Dalia?"

"Oh, probably a few years. I brought my racket and clothes, I hoped we'd get a chance to play again. This is one of the things I miss the most."

"Me too," I said. "I miss a lot of things from before -" I stopped myself from bringing up the accident.

"It was a blessing and a curse," Dalia said thoughtfully as she walked around gathering up the balls.

I wondered what she'd meant by that for a while and finally concluded that it had brought her and Frank back together. It was sad in a way to think that a tragedy had been required to do so and that same event had started Mike and I on a trajectory that would bring us together as well.

"Don't you two get started," Mike cautioned. "You know, Grandpa was right, earlier; we all have so much to be thankful for this Thanksgiving."

"Frank and I are very thankful."