Chapter 57: Thanksgiving Philosophy

Sunday, November 20, 1983

Study Group was all work and no play. We had three days of tests coming right up. The odds were high that many of us would be nearly done with tests by Tuesday night, so we might have time for play then. For now? Buckle down, get the work done, and keep our grades up!

Two more test cycles to go before the end of the semester after this one. Then we’d see how spring turned out.

Monday, November 21, 1983

Exams or not, Student Council went on as always. We did perhaps rush through things a bit more than we usually did, though.

We were all waiting on the School Board for grade point changes, so there was nothing much there. That left the dress code proposal, and that one we finalized so that I could present it to Principal Riggs next week. As with last year’s changes, it was likely enough to get all of the underclassmen re-elected next year all by itself. By now, we were the establishment, and (barring apathy or another inspired slate of candidates) candidates aligned with the incumbents would probably just keep winning.

Student Council couldn’t keep making big changes, but it didn’t have to. It just had to keep looking for things that could be improved and stay away from becoming a paper-shuffling, resume-padding body. In the long term that might perhaps be inevitable, but hopefully not for a while.

Everything else was going great. Spirit merchandise was still selling ahead of optimistic projections, enough so that they were looking seriously at trying to place a last-minute order for ‘Texas High School Playoffs 1983.’ It was a risky idea — even with a rush order, we’d only have a few days to sell things if the team lost. Ordering material without a year on it might be the wiser course.

We did approve ordering ‘State Champions’ merchandise immediately if and when we found ourselves in that position. That risked jinxing us, but the alternative was to try to put together an emergency Student Council meeting right before finals. With authorization in place, they could do all of the design work and have something ready to go on a moment’s notice.

The Social Committee had things well in hand for the Winter Formal. Jas and I weren’t going, nor were most of the others that I knew. It was essentially Junior Prom and they deserved the opportunity to enjoy it without any annoying seniors getting in the way.

We would probably do something else fun that night, though. Who exactly ‘we’ were was still an open question. Jas and me? A double or triple date? A whole bunch of seniors? We’d tackle that question after Thanksgiving.

Tuesday, November 22, 1983

As predicted, most of us were past our tests. A few of us had one left. I did, but it was in Computer Math — leave it to Mr. Hannity to put his exam the day before Thanksgiving! In any case, I hardly needed to study for that!

That opened up the possibility of naps, and several people opted for that. With the lack of adult supervision there were several bedrooms to choose from, after all. Jas and I didn’t, nor did Angie and Paige. We had all the opportunities we needed. Much better to give the others all the time they deserved.

Gene was flying off to New Orleans tomorrow to have Thanksgiving at the new house. If he ever lived there, it’d be next summer, but there were already discussions of their keeping this house until he left for college. It didn’t make a lot of sense to move him to New Orleans, only for him to then move again off to college.

At this point, it was a foregone conclusion that, unless he and Sue had a major problem with college admissions, they’d find a location that worked for both of them and live together. As always: on the one hand, it was a high school relationship but, on the other hand, I had a fair bit of confidence that Gene and Sue could go the distance.

Would they? Who knew? Not them, not me, not anyone. All the same, I was nearly certain that their odds would be higher if they lived together than if they tried a long-distance relationship. Of course, it’s possible that their odds would be higher still if they broke up, sowed their wild oats, and then got back together.

Sue had already done quite a bit of sowing in a short period, though, and Gene might feel like his time with Angie had accomplished that. He didn’t really seem like the wild-oat-sowing sort to me, anyway. Not this Gene, and not first-life Gene either.

I had no doubt about Connie and Jimmy. Unless something totally came out of the blue, they were settled and might as well just get engaged now. Of course, that’s where Jas and I were, so I didn’t blame them for not saying the words.

Emily, Morty, and Mark? That was impossible to predict. Everything I knew said that stable three-person relationships were hard, but they’d managed thus far and somehow gotten their parents on board. As Han Solo had put it: ‘Don’t tell me the odds!’

Those of us in Drama got together towards the end of Study Group. While reluctant to do so, it looked like I’d probably be aiming for Conrad Birdie. He wasn’t really the main character, but he’d be a lot of work.

The reasoning behind it was that it would allow Jess to play Kim McAfee with the most ease. Kim was a nearly perfect role for Jess: pretty, precocious, and a lot of other things Jess could do well.

Angie was looking at trying for Mae, one of the hardest roles in the show. She’d have to be quite unlikeable. She could pull it off, I was sure.

Meanwhile, Jas was aiming for Rosie. If I’d been going for Albert that might have been perfect, and we’d seriously discussed it.

Paige was likely going to go for Ursula, but had some interest in Gloria. As Paige said, ‘Hey, I’d make a great tap-dancing floozy, except for having to learn to tap dance!’

All of us felt that, quite possibly, Steffie was going to blow all of this up. Who knew? It felt like she had more of a vision than she had last year — that, or we’d simply all aligned ourselves to her vision automatically. Whatever that vision was this year, we’d all support it without hesitation.

Thursday, November 24, 1983

Thanksgiving was, if anything, a preview of what might be the rest of our lives. Oh, we might have to split holidays if one set of parents or the other moved. Mom and Dad never had, though, not in my first life (though they’d certainly talked about it a lot), and Camille and Francis seemed quite settled.

It had occurred to both Jas and me that it was possible that both sets of parents might move to be close to us when they retired and we had kids. I really hadn’t realized to what extent my ex-wife had gotten crosswise with them until later. She’d always reserved her explosions for me, or so I’d thought. Certainly, none of our friends had ever seemed to know anything about the craziness we had at home.

Two things had changed since then. First, I’d heard from my parents much later in life how much they didn’t like her, and how much she’d let them know that she didn’t like them either. It’s not that I didn’t know she didn’t like them, it’s that I didn’t know she’d told them. She’d been on her best behavior every minute that I spent with her and them together. It’d been years before I’d heard that things had been said while I was out of the room.

The second was Jasmine. Jasmine had been welcomed with open arms and those arms had only closed when giving hugs. Mom and Dad treated Jasmine much more like a daughter-in-law than they’d ever treated my ex-wife, but then Jasmine treated them more like beloved in-laws than my ex-wife ever had.

It made me sad to think that my parents might have lost the chance for a close relationship with their grandkids out of a desire to avoid my ex-wife, but that truly was ancient history (even if it also hadn’t happened yet). That Mom and Dad were gone (or in their own second life, perhaps — if so, hopefully they’d find each other, because their lives would be much lesser if not!) My kids were living their own lives, and I had no way to explain or apologize. My ex-wife was living her own life, too.

In any case, Jasmine was always welcome at our house and I was a fixture at hers. Not only that, but this year Paige was at our Thanksgiving and Angie joined the Seilers at theirs. Ted wasn’t putting in an appearance. He wouldn’t be coming home from college until just before Christmas. No surprise; it was a long (and expensive) flight for him.

We continued our tradition of giving thanks for the people and things in our lives. What I said hadn’t changed much from last year, though I tossed in getting to see more of Grandfather this summer and his and Grandmother’s continued good health. In my mind, though, I added Jas knowing the truth, Laura entering the picture, Jess changing her destiny, and a few other things. I truly had so much to be thankful for.

I also remembered my kids and even my ex-wife in my thoughts. Being part of their lives had been wonderful. Being part of hers hadn’t, but I wouldn’t be who I was now without that experience. It wasn’t even ‘whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,’ it was that I’d learned lessons then which, amazingly, I had a full life to take advantage of now. I couldn’t bring myself to wish her ill. My hope remained that she’d found balance and happiness in her life.

Jas and I found ourselves with time to ourselves after we’d finished our second Thanksgiving meal, this one at her house.

Not that kind of time! Two Thanksgiving meals alone might have made that a questionable idea!

No, this was the sort of time that involved snuggling in her big chair, with her head on my shoulder, my arms around her, and the door closed.

“You seemed a little far away during part of the gratitude discussion,” she said. “I don’t know if anyone else noticed. Maybe Angie. Everyone else was watching Paige.”

I nodded. “That doesn’t surprise me. I was thinking of the other things I have to be thankful for.”

“Like?” she said, playfully, nodding to the bed.

I chuckled. “Well, yes, but also no. I wasn’t thinking of that. You know me.”

“I do, but I’m also curious, and I can only guess some of it. Finding out about Laura? How things have gone for us?”

“Both of those, and I’d have phrased that as finally being my full self with you instead of having to keep a mask up.”

That got me a very nice kiss and a sigh. “I like that very much, too. That was on my list. I mean, that we’re like that now. It’s a pain in the butt in therapy sessions with Leslie, and sometimes other times, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Me, neither.”

“What else?”

“My kids. Getting to be part of their life, and wishing them well. My ex-wife, in a way. I learned a lot, and I wouldn’t be the person I am without those lessons, even if those lessons sucked to learn.”

She giggled. “I was going to start with that last part, about it sucking. It’s nice that you can feel that way.”

“What should I do? Stay angry with someone who I’ll never see again and who’s off living her own life? When anger was by far the biggest chunk of what went wrong? Righteous anger can be a powerful thing, a good thing, but stupid anger is just destructive. Letting it go is the best thing.”

She cocked her head for a second, then said, “Steve?”

“Yes?”

“You said ... now, I mean, plus a bunch of other times ... that you feel like your kids are... ‘out there.’ Your ex-wife, too.”

“I do. It feels really solipsist to say that they don’t exist because I left.”

“No. I mean, I get that. But it’s 1983, and they must have been born decades later.”

“Um...” I said, hesitating. It’s not that I hadn’t thought of it before, but I hadn’t thought of it in a while, really, and ... it was worth considering.

After a little pause, she said, “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking that you have a point. Maybe the solipsist thing is to pretend that the universe revolves around me in terms of time. The problem is that I then have to really deal with time not being linear. I mean, if I take the view that I traveled back in time when I died and came back — which is the obvious view, I guess — then instead of saying my kids are out there, then instead I’m saying I’m out there. The ‘me’ that I was. He’d probably be sitting at home reading right now or playing a computer game or something. He’d have had a nice Thanksgiving with Mom and Dad, but that’d be done. Tomorrow he’d go to the mall — maybe with Dave Mayrink, maybe not. On Saturday he might well go play D&D. He’s going to make the exact same mistakes as I made because he’s me and his path is set. Except ... as far as I know, my path isn’t set. What makes his universe predestined and this universe a paradise of free will? Or was it predestined before? Is this one predestined?”