Chapter 16: Thanksgiving and Christmas

Liz and I took a direct flight home to Greenville for the long Thanksgiving weekend, and Dianna and my niece, Julie, picked us up at the airport. Liz started to get in the back with little Julie in her car seat when Julie hollered, “No. I want Unkey Mahte. Mahte, sit nex to me.”

Liz laughed, and I slid in and got a sticky candy cane kiss from little Julie.

“Dianna, how is Joe?”

“Deployed in the Indian Ocean.” She didn’t volunteer any more information, and I didn’t ask.

Then, as the car pulled away from the curb, Julie started talking, “I want Barbie, Unca Mahte,” and “I want big girl makeup,” and she didn’t stop saying ‘I want’ until we reached the house. Then, when the engine stopped running, she said, “I want Wiz.”

Liz picked up Julie, and I carried our suitcases into the living room, where Dad played on the floor with Dixie’s daughter, Vicky. Momma and Dixie were cooking in the kitchen, so I hugged Momma first, then Dixie, and asked, “Where are the rest of the babies?”

“Danni is changing David, and little Rose is running around getting into everything.”

I laughed and hugged Dixie, “How are you, my little Dixie girl?”

“Vicky is becoming a girly girl, and Brad and I have talked about having another next year.”

For the rest of the Thanksgiving weekend, Liz and I spent a lot of time playing with our nephews and nieces. But were we practicing for our future?

Classes resumed the Monday after Thanksgiving. December weekdays overflowed with midterm exams, oral reports, and papers due. Dissertations, essays, thesis, stories, compositions, and any other names you want to give to them were expected to be turned in on a specific day, at an exact time, in a particular basket, on the proper desk. It was easier to write them than turn them in.

Christmas was a week away, and we were back in Greenville, Liz’s newly adopted hometown, looking forward to a memorable holiday. We shopped at the malls and downtown shops, and I talked to many high school classmates who were also home for the holidays, on leave from the military, or lived and worked in our hometown. I introduced Liz to all of them, and most days, she was the sweet and gracious fiancée I fell in love with, but one day, the Wednesday before Christmas, she was a bitch. In the morning, she was rude to a neighbor of my parents, snapped at the Salvation Army bell ringer, and later in the day, when we were shopping, she almost got into two fights. Maybe she’s bipolar or something.

The first conflict was with Leslie Cox, the girl I spent three days expanding my knowledge of sex while starving for intelligent conversation. I questioned Liz about her reaction toward her after Leslie was dragged away by her boyfriend.

“Who pissed in your cornflakes, Honey? You went after Leslie with your claws out, and I was ready to grab the fire hose.”

“You heard what that bitch said with that smirk on her face as she hugged you. ‘Oh, Marty and I are very close friends, and after Dixie’s wedding, we spent seven days at my house while my family was away on a trip. The things I taught him that week, well, he was a quick learner.’ Then she looked at me and giggled. I wanted to scratch her lips off of her face.”

“It was only three days, and I did discover how to do a few things you like.”

“Seven days, three days, I’m not mad at you, but that bitch was rubbing my nose in her shit, and if I run into her again and we’re alone, you’ll be bailing me out of jail. It was a good thing her boyfriend got between us.”

The next girl Liz wanted to kill was Jan Roberts. We were getting ready to leave the same mall when Jan and her fiancé came in, and Jan gave me a big hug.

I immediately introduced Jan and Liz to each other, and to avoid trouble, I stepped between them, keeping Liz from attacking.

“Liz, Jan, and I went to school together from the first grade through high school. We were the dancing couple at every school dance except proms, and she went to both of them with Terry Jackson, this big lug next to her. He can’t dance worth a shit, two left feet. So Jan and I went to school dances with a pile of business cards for Madame Carlisle’s Dance Studio.”

That seemed to calm Liz down enough for her to say hello and shake hands. I took a deep breath, hoping Jan and Terry didn’t notice Liz’s demeanor.

The day before Christmas, we were at lunch in a Chinese restaurant, and guess who stopped at our table and pulled me up for a hug and a kiss? Why, Olivia Goldrake, in all her glory. When she left lipstick on my cheek, I looked at Liz and reached for my phone, preparing to call 911.

“Marty, you hunk. How are you, baby?” Now she was squeezing my butt with her hand.

“I’m fine. Olivia, I mean Mrs. Goldrake. May I introduce Liz Cummings, my fiancée? Liz, this is Olivia Goldrake, patron saint of the Fine Arts Society.”

Liz’s big grin confused me because I knew she saw where Olivia’s hand went so when she embraced Olivia, I was looking for a knife in her hand.

“Marty, don’t you remember? We met at Danni’s wedding at the cookout. Olivia and I had a wonderful talk and she gave me some hints for teaching your husband to obey. Oh, Olivia, he’s terrible, his memory is fading, and he still ignores even the simple commands.”

“Liz, if you like, I could take him home for a week and train him for you, teach him his place in the marriage?”

“I might take you up on that, Olivia.”

“Well, I have some shopping to do. Marty, this girl is a keeper, so polite and gracious. Liz, have a Merry Christmas, and I hope to see you again.”

Olivia hugged both of us again and took off into the mall. Liz took a napkin and with a bit of saliva, removed the lipstick from my cheek.

Time stopped in Marty World because I knew World War III would have broken out if Olivia had hugged me like this two days ago. But instead, today was like a hippy rally in a park, with flowers and rainbows in the sky. So I need to ask Liz today if she knows why she is sweet one day and evil the next.

Something else occurred to me as I drove out of the parking lot. This Liz, the friendly Liz, the one I made love to, always let me drive my car. The other Liz, the controlling and bitchy Liz I fucked, always grabbed the car keys and jumped behind the wheel. Another memory returned, my memory of Liz screaming at me for calling her; what did I call her? Lizzy! I called her Lizzy, and she went off. That caused my blood pressure to spike, bursting the aneurysm in my head. So in my head, I will call my mellow fiancée, Liz, and my angry fiancée, Lizzy.

Now that I had my thoughts organized, we needed to talk, so I drove to the school I almost died at, parked, took Liz’s hand, and walked to the swings.

“Marty, why did you bring me here? Is there something wrong?”

“Liz, something is troubling me, and I don’t want a fight to break out when I tell you what’s on my mind.”