Chapter 1

In the US, Thanksgiving is the second of a sequence of four late season holidays: Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s Eve. It is a time for families to gather, and give thanks for all they have. Of the four holidays, Thanksgiving is the most inwardly seeking. It is the only time of the year set aside for people to focus on the things in life that mean the most to them. On the other hand, Halloween has transitioned from a day for remembering ancestors to a holiday for children with candy and costumes. Christmas, somewhat out of favor from a politically correct perspective, is a time of celebrating a gift bestowed to humanity by God in the form of his only Son. But it has become excessively commercialized, to the point where the real meaning is becoming lost. New Year’s Eve is a forward looking holiday that focuses on the anticipation of the changes that a new year will bring; although, more often than not, that translates into a chance to partake of too much alcohol.

Norman Rockwell, in a painting entitled ‘Freedom From Want’, captured a family moment with everyone smiling around a dinner table while a kindly looking grandmother is proudly presenting a huge roasted turkey. It is one of those feel good pieces of art that has become an iconic representation of what Thanksgiving is supposed to look like – a smiling family gathered together to enjoy a delicious feast.

While Thanksgiving remains the one holiday that remains closest to its roots, in terms of how it is celebrated; all too often, it is a time of family arguments and tension. It might be because too many people won’t look inward to find the things in their life for which they should be thankful. It might be because some people will always want more than what they need, and are bitter about what they don’t have. Others are blind, and just don’t see what they have. Where the greatest gifts one has is friends and family, too many people think of material goods and wealth.

Paul didn’t particularly like Thanksgiving. In fact, he hated it; though it hadn’t always been that way.

There was a time — particularly when he was a kid — that it was one of his favorite holidays, ranking right up there with Christmas, Halloween, and his birthday. He really enjoyed the feast prepared by his mother, and had stuffed himself to the point where he thought he’d burst with just one more bite. It had been a rite of passage when the men had deemed that he was old enough to finally be allowed to join them in watching the game, rather than going to his bedroom for a nap. Of course, he — like most of the men — ended up taking naps in front of the television, dozing off while digesting their meals.

Then he had a daughter, and his life took a turn for the worse. For the first few Thanksgivings after her birth, he stood at the head of the table, proudly carving the turkey. He’d been thankful for a wonderful wife, a pretty daughter, a good job, and a loving home. But his pretty little girl turned into a spoiled selfish little brat, and it was obvious by her actions that his wife had encouraged that metamorphosis. Holidays became more about placating Annie, than about a celebration. The choice was simple, praise her, or put up with a tantrum. He didn’t praise her, but his wife ... well she thought Annie could do no wrong.

There hadn’t been a good holiday since Annie had turned five, and Thanksgiving had become a farce. That had been the time when he had stood at the head of the table, ready to carve the turkey, wondering why his wife had turned her back to him. In the process of becoming the low man on the totem pole, his daughter turned into brat, his job into a refuge, and his home into a house. He found that he had little for which to be thankful.

Today, he was waiting patiently in the living room with keys in hand to drive the family over to his in-laws home for Thanksgiving dinner. His wife, Judy, was still in the bedroom doing that magic women do to make themselves look more attractive. His daughter, Annie, was in her room listening to music. They needed to leave soon in order to be in time for dinner.

He walked over to the front window of the house and looked outside, sadly wishing it was a workday rather than a holiday. It was a nice bright day outside, although the air was frigidly cold. The weather should have helped stave off the depression that was slowly building with each passing minute, but it didn’t. They were going to be late and, some how, he was going to get blamed for it.

His wife stepped out of the bedroom. Based on the results, it appeared that the time spent in the bedroom making herself pretty hadn’t been a waste of time. She was a wearing a nice conservative dress that looked great on her. He was reminded once again why he fell in love with her, whenever she dressed up like that. She was a great beauty, even at her age.

“You look good.”

“We’re going to be late. Aren’t you ready to go yet?” she said ignoring his compliment.

His shoulders sagged as he replied, “I’ve been ready for half an hour.”

He was wearing a plain white shirt, tie, dress pants, and a sports coat. He called it his ‘goin’ ta church’ outfit, despite the fact that he only wore it to work when there was an important meeting with clients. It was his newest outfit. Most of his clothes were a little threadbare.

“I’ll get Annie.”

“I’ll warm up the car,” he grunted.

He went out to the car carrying the pumpkin pie and the bottle of wine they were taking. He loaded them into the trunk before starting the engine to let the car warm up. The minutes ticked past, and no one came out of the house. He sat there waiting, impatiently drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. Five minutes went by. Then ten minutes. The car was nice and toasty by that time. Still, no sign of the women.

Using his cell phone, he called his in-laws, and let them know they were going to be late. His father in-law wasn’t very warm over the phone. In fact, his voice was pretty frosty. That was unusual, and he wondered why. Normally, the two men got along great.

He was about to give up and go in the house to see what the problem was, when the front door finally opened. The two women came out. They were bundled up against the cold in long coats.

Once they were settled in the car, he asked, “What was the delay?”

Annie answered, “They showed my two favorite music videos back to back.”

“We’re going to be a half an hour late,” he said thinking the delay was more than what would be required to watch two music videos.

Annie said, “So?”

“It’s kind of rude,” he said pointedly.

“It’s not my fault,” Annie said defensively.

He would have corrected her, but his wife was giving him ‘that look’. He knew better and didn’t require the reminder from his wife to keep his mouth shut. One word and Annie would throw a tantrum right there on the front lawn. They’d never make it over to the in-laws for Thanksgiving dinner.

“Let’s go,” Judy said wanting to end the conversation before it escalated into an argument.

They were thirty minutes late arriving at Judy’s parent’s house. Upon arrival, the two women went into the house, while he was still getting the pie and bottle of wine out of the trunk. He trundled up to the front door and rang the bell. His hands were full holding the pie in one hand and the bottle of wine in the other. He wasn’t about to wrestle with the storm door and the regular door.

His father in-law opened the door saying, “You could have just come in ... Oh, you’ve got your hands full.”

“We brought some wine for dinner, and a pie for dessert,” Paul said holding out the bottle of wine.

His father in-law, Bert, took the wine and backed out of the way so that Paul could enter the house. He looked down at the wine and said, “Hey ... this is supposed to be a good wine. At least, that’s what the reviews say.”

While entering the house, Paul said, “I picked it up at the wine store the other day. It was on sale. It was marked down just enough that I could justify buying it.”

“I’ve always wanted to try this one,” his father in-law said knowing that it usually cost about thirty five dollars a bottle.

“I hope it lives up to its reputation,” Paul said.

Bert knew that Paul had purchased the wine. The two men shared an interest in sampling various presses of the grape. Paul always strove to get a high quality wine at a good price. Judy would have just purchased the cheapest and biggest jug wine in the store. In the past, she’d brought over wine in a box. Both men had just stared at her, incredulous. Annie must have thought the box wine was great, otherwise she probably wouldn’t have drank half of it. The two men chatted about a couple of wine reviews while delivering the pie to the kitchen.

They arrived in the kitchen just in time to hear Sue, Judy’s mother, say, “Do you think that’s appropriate attire for Thanksgiving?”

At first, Paul thought she was talking to him. Then he looked over at Annie and groaned out of embarrassment. She was wearing a skimpy halter top, and short shorts, with five inch heels. She looked like a low class stripper. It was definitely not an appropriate outfit for a family gathering.

Angry, Judy said, “Mother, why would you say such a nasty thing?”

“All I asked was if she thought it was appropriate attire for Thanksgiving.”

Annie exploded, “I don’t have to stay here if you’re going to insult me like that.”

“Annie,” Judy said in placating voice.

It had been a simple question, but Annie flounced out of the room acting like she had been a victim of a horrible verbal attack! The drama queen inside had been released, and was going for an Academy Award. She was muttering about stupid old hags, who wouldn’t recognize fashion if it bit them on the ass.

Judy followed after her calling, “Annie! She didn’t mean anything by her question. She doesn’t know how young women dress, today.”

Paul felt the acid churning in his stomach. Was it too much to ask for a family holiday without an Annie tantrum ruining it? Always he was left behind looking like an idiot.

Turning to his mother in-law, Paul said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know she was dressed like some kind of stripper. I wouldn’t have brought her if I had known. She was definitely out of line with her comments about you.”

“Well, it’s too late to worry about it now. Dinner is almost ready.”

Paul put down the pie on the counter and asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You could start putting the cold foods on the table,” Sue said patting him affectionately on his arm.

A lot of mothers she knew complained about their sons-in-law. Paul was a good one as far as she was concerned. He always was kind, he was always ready to help, he wasn’t abusive, he didn’t drink to excess, and he made a good living. He supported his family with a good income. He did everything one would want in a son-in-law.

It was a shame that Judy wasn’t nearly as good of a daughter as he was a son-in-law. She should have been the one helping to set the table. Instead, she was out chasing after Annie, trying to calm the girl down. She was trying to placate the wrong person. She should have been apologizing for Annie’s bad behavior.

Then there was Annie. It seemed wrong for a grandmother to dislike a grandchild so much, but Sue had little that was nice to say about the girl. Of course, she didn’t think there was a single grandmother in the world who appreciated being called an old hag by a granddaughter. If so, she hadn’t met any.

Paul shuttled back and forth from the kitchen several times, carrying various salads, cranberry sauce, and relishes. Sue had cooked up a storm and there were going to be left overs galore. The table had been set up with the inserts that would extend it for more people, but there were only five places set.

Upon returning to the kitchen, he asked Sue, “What about Ben and his family? Aren’t they coming?”

“They canceled.”

“I’m afraid to ask why.”

“They didn’t want the kids to be around Annie,” Sue answered with her eyes misting somewhat.

She had spent a lifetime creating a close knit family. It had been a good family, but Annie had managed to rip it apart. That hurt. It also hurt that Judy encouraged Annie in doing it. It was a betrayal that Sue felt deeply.

“I don’t blame them,” Paul said.

Last Thanksgiving, Ben had caught Annie giving his two girls advice on how to use sex to climb the social ladder at school. Ben had been livid, and rightfully so. His daughters were twelve and fourteen. Annie was twenty-five.