by Dara Girard
"But Mom. I've been invited."
Mrs. Olunlade did not look up from her list. She scribbled a note down. "And you can go another time. Thanksgiving is for family."
"But--"
She lifted her gaze and pointed her pen at Lewa. "And this time your grandmother will be able to join us. Would you want her to come all the way from Nigeria and not see you here?"
"She could see me on another day."
"She will see you on Thanksgiving." Mrs. Olunlade returned to her list, making it clear the discussion was finished.
Lewa sighed exasperated. Her mother could be as unmovable as a stone castle. "Then can we do something different this year?"
Mrs. Olunlade looked at her daughter suspicious. "Different?"
"Yes."
"Such as what?"
Lewa took a deep breath, then said in a rush. "Can we have a turkey?"
"For what?"
"To eat." Lewa tapped the table hoping to make her mother understand. "Mom, that's what people usually eat during Thanksgiving. A big delicious turkey. You've been here long enough to know that."
"But we always have curried trout and I thought you liked my seasonings."
"I do."
"And Aunty Elizabeth makes jollof rice."
"Yes."
"And Aunty Femi makes moi moi--"
"Mom, I know." Lewa sat forward and clasped her hands together, trying to show a piousness she didn't feel. "It's just that...just this once I'd like to have something different."
Mrs. Olunlade frowned. "I don't know how to cook a turkey."
"We could follow a recipe," Lewa said with a note of hope.
Mrs. Olunlade set her pen down and folded her arms. "Why are you worrying about food when you don't even have a husband to show your grandmother when she comes?"
Lewa fell back like a lead balloon. "You're changing the subject."
Mrs. Olunlade lifted her daughter's chin, her gaze softening. "You're so pretty and bright. What am I supposed to tell her?"
"You don't have to tell her anything."
"Mrs. Adeniyi has a son."
"No."
"You can't leave everything up to fate. The problem with you is that you haven't made it a priority and before you know it, it will be too late."
"I'm only thirty--"
Mrs. Olunlade quickly covered her daughter's mouth as if she'd said something foul. "Quiet. You don't look it and there's no reason to keep saying it. Do you think being over thirty and unmarried is a virtue?"
Lewa removed her mother's hand and kissed the back of her palm. "I'm sorry. I'll be more careful next time. Now, what about a turkey?"
Mrs. Olunlade's mouth quirked up in a quick grin, sensing her daughter's strategy to appease her. "I'll think it over. Go ask your father and see what he says."
"Dad, can we have a turkey for Thanksgiving this year?" She'd found him in the family room watching a NOVA special. She sat in the chair opposite him.
Mr. Olunlade was a large man with a soft spoken voice and his voice was even softer now. "What did your mother say?" he said with a note of caution.
"She told me to ask you."
He nodded then said, "How's work?"
"It's fine, now about the turkey--"
"Are you seeing anyone?"
Lewa blinked looking bored. "Dad."
"Does that mean no?"
Lewa shook her head. "No, I'm not seeing anyone, but I--"
"Why not? Why haven't you found someone to settle down with yet? You're a pretty woman and--" He pointed at her. "You must be doing something to scare them off. Do you tell them how much you make?"
Lewa affectionately squeeze her father's knee. "Dad, stop changing the subject. Can we have a turkey or not?"
He rubbed his chin, hesitant. "What did your mother say again?"
Lewa sighed, praying for patience. "She wanted to know your opinion."
A slow grin spread on his face. "That's rare. That means she's not sure. I say no. Let's stick with tradition."
"But that's my point. Jollof rice, moi moi and curried trout isn't traditional for Thanksgiving. Other people at least have a turkey."
"I don't care." He held up his hand like a feudal king making a decree. "It's the tradition for this house and it means a lot to our family. Do you know why we have jollof rice with curried trout?"
"No."
"Because trout was the first expensive meal I could afford. When I first came to this country I worked in a gas station. I hadn't met your mother yet and I stayed with Big Mummy's family. Finally I was able to get a promotion and the first thing I did was go to the local international store and purchase trout. So every Thanksgiving I buy that to remind me of how thankful I am."
"What did your father say?" Mrs. Olunlade said catching Lewa trying to sneak out of the house without saying goodbye.
"He told me a story about why we have jollof rice and trout."
"So his answer is no turkey?"
"Yes, he wants to keep our tradition."
Her mother beamed. "Good, but I've decided you're right. We should add something extra and I spoke to Femi and she's going to cook something you'll love."
"Really?" Lewa said clasping her hands together.
"Yes, she'll make samosas."
Lewa's hands fell to her sides. "But Mom that's Indian."
"Yes, exactly," her mother said pleased with her cleverness. "Didn't the English eat with the Indians?"
Lewa stood for a moment wondering if she should laugh or cry. "Yes...no...not East Indians. They ate with American Indians. Native Americans."
But her mother had stopped listening. She adjusted the collar of Lewa's coat. "She's excited because she knows it's one of your favorites. See, I do listen and can be flexible."
Lewa sighed. "Thanks Mom."
Mrs. Olunlade called the housegirl, Biti, and handed her the list. "I want only the best."
She bowed appropriately submissive. "Yes, ma'am." Although only nineteen, she looked ten years older and had stooped shoulders.
Lewa kissed her mother on the cheek then left.
Once she and Biti were both outside, Lewa gently slapped the younger woman in the back. "How many times do I have to tell you to stand up straight?"
"Sorry Aunty." She rubbed her hands together, and wrapped her scarf tighter. "I still have to get used to the cold."
Lewa glanced up at the red and yellow leaves clinging to the trees, feeling the crisp November air against her skin. "You weren't cold in the house, so stop lying."
"Sorry Aunty."
"Always stand tall." Lewa walked to her car.
"Aunty?"
She turned. "Yes?"
"Why do you want a turkey?" Biti asked making a face. "Isn't that just bland English food?"
Lewa laughed at the girl's expression, knowing she wouldn't understand. "Goodbye, Biti," she said then jumped in her car.
"Just forget about the damn turkey and eat what you're given," Lewa's friend Hannah Lee said as she, Lewa and Valerie changed in the gym locker after swimming. She'd known Hannah since they met at the university and could always depend on her for straight talk. "The holidays aren't meant to be enjoyed. If you're having fun, you're not doing it right. It's about family, fights and feasting. You just grin and bear it."
"I don't mind spending time with my family, and I don't mind them bothering me about a husband," Lewa said. "I've gotten used to it."
"You're braver than I am," Hannah said. "If I hadn't met my boyfriend in time I would have made him up."
"Yes, being single on the holidays is the worse," Valerie said.
Lewa rolled her eyes. "Thanks for your support."
"No, I don't mean you. I mean in general. It makes you an easy target."
"I can take being a target, if I could just get something different to eat. Is having a turkey so wrong?"
"It's not what they're used to," Hannah said. "We don't have mashed potatoes we have sticky rice."
Lewa rested her chin in
her hand. "At least you have a turkey."
So it was clear. Thanksgiving meant many different things to different people. To Hannah it was sticky rice and family fights. To Valerie, a warm family gathering and traditional American food. To her father, jollof rice and trout reminded him of all he was grateful for. Thanksgiving was a symbolic day of family and blessings. Her parents had no connection to the story of turkey and mashed potatoes, and maybe she was grasping at a story that wasn't hers either. She needed her own special dish.
A week before Thanksgiving she bought a turkey.
"So what are you going to do with it?" her younger sister Arielle asked while the two woman stared at the frozen bird on Lewa's kitchen counter. "It's huge."
"I know." Lewa poked it. "And I'm not sure what I'm going to do yet."
"Why do you want a turkey so bad anyway? You can have turkey any other day."
"It's not the same."
"And why are you making it so complicated? If you wanted turkey why not just buy a cooked one?"
"Because I want to do it myself."
"You could get burned."
Lewa looked at her sister curious. "How could I get burned?"
"It happens every year. People get burned trying to cook their turkeys."
"That's only if they're deep frying them," Lewa said playfully hitting her. "Stop being so negative. If you don't want to help, why did you come over?"
"I'm curious."
Lewa lifted the turkey and put it back in the freezer. "I'm curious about something too." She closed the freezer door and looked at her sister. "Are you ever going to tell Mom and Dad about the miscarriage?"
Arielle sat down at the kitchen table and tugged on one of her braids with nervous fingers. "Why would I?"
"Then they won't bother you about starting a family." Lewa sat in front of her. "I know it must get on your nerves."
"I don't want them to blame me," she said in a choked voice.
"Why would they blame you?" Lewa said surprised by her sister's worry. "At least they'll know you're trying and they may be more sensitive."
"The Aunts won't be."
Lewa sighed recognizing the truth of her sister's words. The Aunts would be harder to convince. "You will have your own family soon."
"Aunty Elizabeth will blame me for not eating the right foods, Mom will say it's because I'm too old and should have started sooner." Tears filled her eyes.
Lewa covered her sister's hand. "But we know that none of that is true," she said in a soft voice. "You haven't done anything wrong. And you and Stillman will be fine."
Arielle brushed away her tears and lowered her eyes. "It's caused a strain between us."
"Of course," Lewa said giving her sister's hand a reassuring squeeze. "It's a stressful time for many couples."
"No, I mean...he's not handling it well. He's getting pressure from his family too and I'm afraid he'll start blaming me as well."
Lewa stiffened and sat back. "He's supposed to be your support not your judge. Do you want me to talk to him?"
Arielle lifted her gaze, suddenly wary. "What would you say?"
"Treat my little sister right or I'll punch you in the face."
Arielle smiled then laughed. "You're so silly."
Lewa returned her smile glad she could lighten the mood. "You're good together. You're a great couple. I don't want this to pull you apart."
"You can't stop it, if it does."
"It won't. "
"But what if I can never carry a baby? Sheba is already on her third," she said referring to a cousin of theirs.
Lewa brushed the idea aside with a quick flick of her wrist. "It's too soon to think like that."
Arielle shook her head. "No, it's not. I asked him and he said that if I couldn't have a child then we wouldn't have a marriage."
"He didn't mean that."
"He did."
"What about adoption or surrogacy?"
"He doesn't want to adopt and we can't afford surrogacy. Unless..."
"Unless what?"
"We could find someone to help us," she said looking at her sister with a hopeful expression.
Lewa shook her head, resisting the urge to jump up and run out of the room. "No way. Don't look at me. I'm not ready for that."
"This may be your only chance," Arielle said suddenly eager. "You're older than me and we both know your prospects are slim."
"Thank you Mom," Lewa said in a sour tone.
"I just want you to consider it. If you could do this we'd both appreciate it."
Lewa let her sister's words hang in her mind. Having a baby was something Arielle really wanted and if it could help her marriage it would be worth it, right? But then part of Lewa was angry that her sister had to find another alternative. Couldn't Stillman be more patient? Couldn't they come up with something together? Would he really leave Arielle if she couldn't bare his children? Would a child really change all that? Did he love her sister or was she just an appendage to him? A status symbol?
Lewa had to find out for herself so she met her brother-in-law at his office and treated him to lunch.
Once they'd placed their orders she said, "Do you love my sister?"
Stillman looked at her surprised and baffled. "You know I do."
"Then why are you threatening to leave her?"
He paused then said, "I didn't say that."
"Then what did you say? I know about the problem between you two."
He glanced around as if afraid someone might overhear them. "Do we have to discuss this here?"
"No, we can go to your place and I can talk to you with Arielle there. Or I can wait until Thanksgiving and let the whole family give their opinions."
Stillman held up his hands in surrender. "All I said was that having my own children means a lot to me." He let his hands fall. "It's something I've always wanted and it's expected."
"Dreams can change."
"Not this one. Being a father to my own flesh and blood is what I want."
"She really wants to have children with you. But can you love her enough if she can't?"
"We are thinking about surrogacy."
"Yes, she told me. And that hasn't answered my question."
"I don't mind doing that," he said expertly avoiding a question he didn't want to answer. "If she can't do it herself." His gaze trailed the length of Lewa.
Lewa took a sip of her drink. "Take the thought out of your mind and bury it."
He shrugged. "It's been done before and it would really help us a lot."
"I'm older than her."
"But you're better built to carry children," he said making a curving motion with his hands.
Lewa held up her hand and pointed at him, unable to stop a smile. "Watch it."
He grinned. "It's a compliment. If I hadn't met your sister first, maybe--"
Lewa laughed. "I used to think that too, but now I know it wouldn't have worked."
He frowned. "What do you mean?"
She shook her head, knowing she wouldn't be able to explain it to him. She was only starting to understand it herself. "I'll see what I can do."
"Arielle told me you bought a turkey for Thanksgiving."
"I'm not sure what I'll do with it yet."
"You'll come up with something." He winked. "You always do."
That evening, Lewa sat in her kitchen and pondered her conversations with Stillman and Arielle. And as she thought, she discovered a truth about herself too. That she didn't really want her sister's husband, just the status he brought her. She didn't want to get married--at least not yet. She was enjoying her life and truly never thought about being a wife and mother the way other women did. Her former desire for a husband had been a way for her to fit in. A way to stop being so different. It was the same with the turkey. She wanted their home to have the same sights and smells as other homes, but for what purpose? Was it wrong to be different?
Lewa loved Stillman. He was a wonderful, generous man, but she now realized he was more
traditional than she'd thought--than she'd allowed herself to see. His values matched her sister's perfectly. Despite their easy conversation and ambitions, he would be a terrible match for her. She could only hope that the right man was out there. If not...her family would continue to feel sorry for her. She'd be a failure, a half person, but she didn't mind anymore because she had a private joy no one could take from her. A joy of being authentically herself. She didn't want her sister's private fears that she wasn't a complete woman if she couldn't bear children or Stillman's fears of how he'd be perceived. Even if they did have a child, Lewa knew it wouldn't be enough. They'd be expected to have at least two. To live others expectations could be exhausting and Lewa was ready to remove herself from that race.
Lewa called her sister. "Try for another year. If you're still having trouble, I'll pay for a surrogate."
"Thank you," Arielle said with tears in her voice.
"Just be prepared for the Aunts this year."
"I am. What are you going to do about the turkey? I think you should donate it."
"I could, but I'm not going to. We're having turkey this year one way or another. I'll see you Thursday." Lewa hung up then opened her freezer and stared at her frozen turkey with renewed determination. Authenticity, that would be her contribution to this year's holiday dinner.
Lewa went online and looked at different recipes and spent many hours looking at cooking clips. But she still didn't find anything that would suit her family. She decided to go to the store and stood in the baking section staring at the deep fryers, beakers and thermometers. She knew cooking was a science, but she felt like a novice in the lab of a genius. Even if she got the turkey right she didn't know anything about stuffing or glazing. She wanted to create something her family would eat, something familiar yet a little different. Unfortunately, she didn't know what.
"Can I help you?" a sales associate said. He looked like a college student and had shaggy red hair he kept having to push back from his eyes.
"No, I'm just looking."
"Okay," he said then started to turn.
"Wait," Lewa said before he left. "What do you do for Thanksgiving?"
He shrugged. "Watch football and eat turkey."
"Right," Lewa said. Just like millions.
"But that's not my favorite part," he said with a shy grin as if hesitant to share.