Embrace

I could not bring myself to ring the doorbell. I could hear the laughter from behind the door and wondered if I was better off staying at my apartment this year. I could share this sweet potato casserole with my girlfriend this thanksgiving. I could even go for a little painting with a twist session or a pumpkin carving class with her… No. I need to face them. I need to give them the benefit of the doubt and convince them.

A heavy set of footsteps followed the doorbell’s shriller-than-usual tone. I could recognize those footsteps anywhere. I gripped my casserole tighter, mentally bracing myself for what was to come. My brother stood behind the open door and looked back towards the dining hall where the rest of our relatives were. One by one they took notice of me, and a loud silence filled the house. It was a stark contrast to the welcoming hugs and warm questions I received last year. Or every year for that matter. I could see a look of worry cross my brother’s face as he looked back at me.

“Stacy…Why go out of your way? They didn’t even invite you,” he whispered.

“Thank you for letting me know where it was happening,” I said, as I stepped into the hallway, “but do I really need an invitation, Vic?”

We walked in tense silence to the dining room. I set the casserole on the counter off to the side of the room once I noticed the same dish already half eaten on the dining table. As was custom, I made my way to the head of the table where my grandfather sat and took his hand to plant a brief kiss out of respect. He smacked my hand away before I could and glared at me with seething anger and disgust. Was this really the same grandfather who made sure I sat to his right, and ensured that I was well-fed and happy before I left his presence?  

I could feel my face growing hotter. Tears threatened to escape my eyes and the snickering coming from my aunt certainly did not help me hold them back any easier.

 “Careful father. Who knows where her hands have been?” she said.

My grandfather hit the table with his hand in response and immediately silenced my aunt. I was at a loss for words. I gripped a nearby chair until my knuckles turned white. I could feel my brother’s murderous gaze settle on my aunt from behind me. My mother was looking at me with sad helplessness while my father just sipped water from his glass. I looked around further only to find my cousin savoring some ham with a poorly hidden smirk. She is sitting where I used to sit.

The situation was resembling less of a phase and more of a permanent norm. There were two more empty seats left near the end of the table furthest from where my grandfather sat. I grabbed a plate and made my way to the seat closer to the rest of my relatives when my uncle placed a case of beer on it. I hunched in the remaining seat and started cutting up the turkey, hoping to remain unseen for the rest of the evening. It only turned out like this when my cousin, who went to the same college as me, discovered my relationship with my girlfriend. I used to help her out with her applications and homework. I don’t expect anything in return, but a part of me wished she had at least respected my choice to keep my relationship a secret. I was lucky I was staying in the dorms when news of my relationship spread in my family. The thought of what could have happened had I been commuting instead sent shivers down my spine.

For the rest of the evening, the sounds of cutlery and knives clinking and scraping the plates echoed throughout the room. It was clear that I no longer had a place in my family. The thought weighed heavily on my heart. I needed to leave. I stood up, washed my hands, and quickly made my way to the door. I waited a moment before stepping out the door and decided against looking back.

On the drive back to the apartment, I contemplated my actions that evening. I should have said something. Anything. Why did I even hope for any kind of support? I tried thinking of every possible way the evening could have played out. How am I any different from the time before my relationship? How was I any less worthy of their love? The deep emeralds of the evening forest blurred past me. I drove faster as my thoughts raced. My nose was getting stuffier, and no amount of sniffling kept my snot at bay. I reached for a napkin in the glove compartment. Once my eyes fell back on the road, I veered my car off the lane, nearly missing a deer that was crossing the road, and barreled towards a tree.

***

“Young lady, you’re lucky to be getting off with just a broken rib and leg. You’re supposed to be dead. Lord knows how you survived that crash,” a portly looking nurse said. “Do you have any relatives we can notify?” she asked. She sighed. I didn’t realize that she had been waiting for a while.

“You need more rest sweety. Just let me know who to call when you’re done. K, hun? I’ll come back to you after I see a few more patients.”

I barely managed to nod and closed my eyes, wondering if any of them would come and take care of me if they knew I was bedridden in a hospital. I should still let them know. Out of obligation of course. It was hard to breathe. By nighttime, the beeping of machines surrounding me lulled me to sleep despite my agony. Maybe it would be better if I could stay asleep forever.

The piercing rays of light shining through the thin spaces of the window blinds forced me awake. As I came to be, I became increasingly aware of someone else’s hands in mine. I looked down to find a familiar redhead resting in a chair next to my bed.

“Alex? Alex…wake up.” I immediately regretted trying to sit up. Sharp stabbing pain kept pulsing throughout my body.

Hearing my groans, Alex shot up. “Stacy! Are you okay? I mean you’re not but…how are you feeling?”

“Miserable. I couldn’t convince my family. I know I have you, but I feel so lonely.” Hot tears started rolling down my face. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I started sobbing uncontrollably as I felt some of the weight in my heart lifting. I spent some time in her embrace, grateful that I had at least one shoulder to cry on, until I calmed down.

“I don’t remember giving your number. How did you know I got into a wreck?” I asked after I could properly speak again.

“One of the EMTs scanned your license… By the way, I tried contacting your family…” She wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“What did they say?” I asked, dreading her response.

I felt her pity. I squeezed her hand, wanting her to know it was alright to tell me. I could see her searching for the right words.

“Please.” I looked at her, pleading.

“Your brother was concerned.” I felt my anticipation growing. “Your father…” She squeezed my hand back. “Your father said that his daughter died a year ago when she chose someone else over her family’s honor. He had a few unkind words for me as well,” she said more quietly. I could no longer feel the pain I felt a few seconds ago. This is it then.

“Stacey, I am so sorry all of this is happening to you. Just know,” she added as she moved closer to me and hugged me, “I will always be there for you through thick and thin. You have so many friends you can count on. We will always be your family. The family you chose. The family that accepts you for you. Okay?”

I mustered a quick nod as I hugged her back.

***

A year passed by, and Thanksgiving was back in all its amber and crimson glory. I placed a couple of turkey-shaped metal napkin holders near the middle and ends of the dining table. My apartment’s dining hall was covered with red and orange leafy wreaths, and décor. As I took the opportunity to appreciate the aesthetic of the room, my eyes were drawn to an old family portrait, which was taken two thanksgivings ago, hanging on the wall. It was a family tradition to take one after every thanksgiving dinner.

“You still care?” Alex asked as she brought in the sweet potato casserole and placed it on the table.

I walked towards her, took her hand, and placed an innocent kiss on it. “I’ve moved past it. It no longer hurts as much. It’s not wrong for me to still hold out hope, is it?” I responded. Her doubtful silence urged me to continue explaining. “I loved them deeply and a large part of them will always remain within me. But I’ve also learned that I cannot force them to accept me. I have a new family, who I chose, that now accepts me. They will be the ones I build new traditions with.”

Her doubtful expressions left her face and were replaced with pride and relief. We looked towards the door as the bell notified us about our friends’ arrival. I smiled and looked back at her and said, “Here’s to new traditions.”