I saw the shadows playing behind the curtain and had to breathe before exiting my Toyota.
“Deep breaths, Jackie.” I muttered.
Thanksgiving was a huge event for my family, turkey being the family business, but this year would be different. As the oldest, I felt the weight clinging to me, like cinder blocks looped around my shoulders. Pops wouldn’t understand. I’d wait until he was fat and filled with food before my revelation.
The act of pulling myself from my car to my full 5’11 height had me feeling like a senior citizen despite having just entered my 20’s. My college learning had occurred at the turkey factory, curtesy of my father. Pops had been dissuading me from attending a university since the 8th grade.
“No need for that,” he had gruffly imparted. “Hands on in the warehouse will be the fastest teacher of the business.”
I strove for a confident stride as I advanced onto the porch, paint peeling from time, but inside, my soul was withering. This would be a stunning development and completely out of character. Pops had been a source of hero worship for as long as I could remember, and I had followed suit at a young age. Aunts, uncles, even cousins knew of the business savvy my father possessed, and no one discussed his company without complete acknowledgment of his prowess. My siblings embraced their lesser existence to stay out of his path.
“You can do this! Just knock on the door.” I shook out my nerves.
My fingers did not search for the doorbell, knowing it remained broken. “Have they considered the business thrives to the detriment of his family?”
No, I mustn’t focus on the faults of others. This day was about my future, and mine alone.
The loud, Cajun voices poured through the front door as if it were open. My knock would never be heard, so upon entering, I located the quietest corner to hide.
It took sixty seconds for Mom to locate my presence, even surrounded by gossiping aunts in the kitchen. “Honey, you made it!” Her arms surrounded me, and the smell of cranberries and pumpkin clung to her. “How was the drive?”
“Mom, fifteen minutes hardly leaves room for disaster.”
“These Louisianians though can’t drive worth a hoot!” She huffed, still gripping my upper arms.
“You do realize you’re one of those, right?” I pointed out.
She ignored me and dragged me inward. I knew where I was being transported and sighed. I would have to face him sometime; might as well get it over with.
“Hello, Pops.” I intentionally raised my voice to interrupt his spiel of the turkey sales to Uncle Joe.
He took his time turning, implying his decision to voluntarily greet me. No reason to give an ounce of his control to anyone else. “Jackie Kid, good timing. Explain the new marketing tools I devised for ya to use.”
“Breathe in and out.” I reminded myself.
The panic attacks had only begun this past year. His hold on me increased with each passing month, and the moment of choosing my course had been closing for a while.
“Sure, Pops!” I could play his game for a couple more hours. I did not have a desire to humiliate him, only disengage myself from his claws. I could be discreet.
The call for dinner reverberated through the house to cancel out the raucous laughter of my relatives. We swarmed the table, fully aware the two turkeys were straight from my father’s dominion.
I consumed my food as if it were my last meal. Perhaps, it would be my last around this table. Who could predict how he would fully react; no one had crossed him before.
We lazed around the table, lingering for seconds and thirds. The abundance was more than we could consume.
Although adhering to his command, my kin gave my father the bare minimum attention before making a hasty exit. Could he not see the divide he placed between himself and others?
A few floated through the kitchen assisting Mom, but Pops immediately marched to his office. I wavered, wondering if the turkey had subdued him any. Wanting to end my suffering, I followed him down the hall, the family photos accusing me from their nails on the wall.
“Pops, I got something to say.”
“Make it quick. I need to check the labor cost.”
I resisted the urge to reprimand him for having workers at the warehouse on Thanksgiving Day. This was about me, not him.
“I’ve made plans. The beginning of the year will be different.”
Although I hadn’t meant to pause, the air was sucked from the room as my father swiveled in his office chair, the springs squealing at his sudden motion. His orbs bore into me with intense silence.
I couldn’t stutter or show a sign of weakness or regret. This was the moment for sureness of spirit and courage of heart. I counted to five before continuing. “I’m joining the Army in January. I’ve been considering my options, and I’m going a different direction than the company. Protecting the country will give you safety for your business, so maybe you can view it as an extension. Either way, January 1st, I’m resigning.”
The wall clock tick-tocked, announcing my impending doom. His oak desk and spicy cologne enveloped my senses, overwhelming me. I recited my reasons in my brain under the censure of my father.
He did not bark; he did not bite. He snarled. “You leave, you don’t come back. Is that what you want? Out in the cold for good? What life can you guarantee for yourself with the military? I have set you up since infancy to take over this company. The oldest has greater responsibilities. How are you gonna walk out on all I’ve given you?”
The rumbling growl became a roar. Mom, clearly recognizing the storm invading her house, appeared in the door.
Without hesitation, Mom would take his side. He informed her of my announcement. My quarrel had nothing to do with her, and I didn’t want to hurt her.
“Jacqueline! How could you?” She cried.
If being female caused them to question my abilities, they might push me over the edge. My calming methods would not work indefinitely. Was I to leave now? I didn’t truly want to cut them off. I had hope of a normal relationship, but was he capable of such a thing?
“Pops, I have to go my own route. Can you respect my wish to build my own success?”
For once, I had silenced my father. Never could I recall a similar instance. His eyes lowered to the faded carpet beneath his boots.
The sounds drifting over me stunned me into hesitation. Were those sobs? I could not cave now.
He raised his head, preventing me from uttering anything else, for the sight of his sorrow halted my thoughts. “Alright, Jackie Kid. You got it. I built this from the ground up. You go cut a life out for yourself. I have squelched your creativity for too long. This is your time now. Go on, but you come back when you’re ready. I will welcome you with open arms.
In my peripheral vision, I observed Mom’s jaw had dropped along with my own. Could this be happening? Would I have my escape from his grasp? I hugged them both and booked it before he changed his mind. I shouted a farewell to my younger brother and sister and slammed out the door. Hoping the three steps to the sidewalk below, I jogged to the car. Relief had me weak and jittery. I crumbled into the driver’s seat, melting into weightlessness. Was this how it felt to be free of one’s jailer? The glorious sunset filled my car as I drove home, the gold and crimson reflecting across my mirrors. My rebirth had occurred; my life could begin. The honor of serving my country would soothe my battered memories of the past. New ones would be created, and new relationships formed. This end opened up a brand new beginning.
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