Good Enough(58)
Thanksgiving Day
Marcie has been trying to convince us to drive together to her parent’s house. We constantly remind her about the other two places we have to go. I’m not sure if she is desperate to tag along with us or she is trying to prevent us from spending the day anywhere else. When she finally grasps the concept that we will not be driving together she tries to convince us to follow her to her parents’. The entire fifty mile drive consisted of us trying to out-drive Marcie. She thought Jameson was trying to race her. She would wave, call us to tell us what cool songs were on the radio, and make faces like a child. It was so annoying; we couldn’t have a conversation without her interrupting us in some way or another.
We stayed at Marcie’s parents’ house for two hours. That was the deal, two hours each house. When it was time for us to leave most people were finishing up eating dessert. When we got up from the table and started saying our goodbye’s Marcie dropped her fork on her plate so loudly everyone stopped what they were doing.
“You’re leaving now?” she said, with an extreme irritation in her voice to match the anger in her face. Her eyes were squinted tight, her jaw clenched. Jameson was very calm, trying not to add to the scene Marcie had already started.
“Yes, we are leaving. As discussed many times before we still have two other places to go.” Everyone else understood and told us how happy that we were able to come and have Thanksgiving lunch with them. Everyone but Marcie understood.
As much as I love Jameson’s grandparents I was relieved to leave. It had been at least a month since I had seen Rick, Jameson’s dad, and I couldn’t wait to give that man a big, squishy hug. He understood our busy day and our plan of two-hour increments. He didn’t make a scene, a face or shout explicits when we said we had to go. He said he was happy to see us, understood our busy day, long drive and said to say “hello” to my parents.
It was six o’clock in the evening by the time we arrived at my house to see my parents for the holiday. There were already a few cars in the driveway. My parent’s friends have always come over around dinner time to make soups and sandwiches with the leftovers. By now, we are ready for our second Thanksgiving helping. I laugh when I saw Jameson’s eyes practically pop out of his head when he saw the entire dining room table covered in food. That didn’t even include the dessert in the kitchen. It made me giggle. When I show him the dessert table in the kitchen I could swear I heard angels sing. His face glows, his eyes are wide and the biggest smile appears on his face.
Our Thanksgiving dinner was filled with good food and good laughs. So different from the unease at Jameson’s grandparent’s house. I had felt a lot of tension between Marcie and her brother John, and I overheard a big argument the two of them got in to and pushing was involved. One sister was on Marcie’s side, the other on John’s side, while the cousins were trying to stay out of it.
Too much drama under one little roof on Thanksgiving for me. I wish I could say I’m glad the day is over but my car is at Jameson’s. I just don’t want to get attitude from Marcie when we go back there. I know she’s going to ask how long we stayed at Rick’s and my parents. It’s not fair of her to ask. For the sake of the day and to not get in to a possible argument with Jameson I decide to bite my tongue. If Marcie says anything I will just walk away, go to Jameson’s room and close the door. Sometimes actions speak louder than words so if I need to, that is what I will do.
AS WE PULL INTO THE APARTMENT complex parking lot I look up to the corner sliding glass door of Marcie and Jameson’s apartment. The lights are on, so Marcie’s home. I make an unintentional loud sigh saying “shit” under my breath. Jameson heard me. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing. I’m just tired. Long day.” I tell him.
“I hear ya. I’m pretty beat too. That was a lot of driving. How about when we get inside we change in to something comfortable, and watch a movie?” He suggests.
“In your room or the living room?”
“Wherever you want.”
I give him a look that should tell him he knows I don’t mean the living room.
“You want to cuddle in bed and watch a movie with me?” He asks.
“Yes please.” I say, while badly batting my eyelashes trying to be cute. He shakes his head and laughs. I smack him on the arm and call him a jerk under my breath and get out of the car.
I’m saying a silent Hail Mary prayer to myself as we climb the three flights of stairs to the apartment. Jameson puts his key in to the lock, turns and pushes the door open. I can already see the cloud of cigarette smoke in the room. Even though I’m a smoker too, I would at least crack a window.