***
Sarah had given her classes a reprieve for the week of Thanksgiving. She had to have special consent from Dr. Knowling, the chair, as typically classes were required to meet the Monday and Tuesday before
Thanksgiving break. Thankfully, the extenuating circumstances of Sarah's mother facing surgery were compelling enough to sway him. Sarah cringed thinking about what was going to happen when she told him of her pregnancy and then needed more time off. At least I'm due in the summer, she thought gratefully. I should be able to start classes in the fall with no problem.
She wanted to let her thoughts carry her into a mental tirade about how unjustly Americans punished working mothers, both professionally and personally. She and Pawel had invested much time in discussing how mothers in Europe were granted generous paid maternity leave and were never threatened - real or imagined – they might lose their jobs just because they wanted to start families. But there was a knock on her door, one she was expecting, and it was the last obligation she needed to fulfill before she headed back to the hospital to see how her mother was faring post-surgery.
It was Esther Thompson, who had missed the previous week's appointment due to illness, so Sarah felt it was imperative they meet before Thanksgiving. The semester was winding down already and Esther had just completed her annotated bibliography. She was moving much more slowly than the rest of the class, who were finishing their observations and surveys and getting ready to start their final drafts.
Esther came in wearing a nearly floor-length black cotton maxi skirt, her top half bundled in a shearling coat. She took her usual seat and pulled off her seasonal accoutrements, placing them all on the little table beside Sarah's bookcase. The mid-Atlantic region was suffering from a stint of brutally cold air, unusual to see before the holidays. Esther blew her nose as if to express that she was still recovering from her recent illness.
"Feeling better?" Sarah was obligated to ask.
She nodded and began to pull a series of folders out of her denim bag, which had a green and gold cross embroidered on the front underscored by the initials ERT. Rebecca? Sarah guessed for her middle name. Ruth? Has to be something biblical. Maybe Rachel, she thought, the juxtaposition of Esther with her best friend Rachel causing a sudden onset of hilarity which she coughed to cover up.
Sarah looked through the files at the bibliography and the survey that Esther had developed. She planned to target undergraduate females to correlate their religious views and opinions on feminism. Sarah was surprised at how unbiased her wording was. "What do you expect to find?"
"Well, I expect to find a negative correlation between religion and feminism, but I personally feel there's no merit to it, as we discussed before."
Sarah saw that Esther had cited several academic studies. But it was hard for Sarah to wrap her head around Christianity meaning anything but oppression and misogyny. "Enlighten me," she said. "I want to understand where you're coming from."
Sarah watched a sly smile creep onto Esther's face, a most unexpected expression overwhelming her normally demure features. "Feminists don't get it. They want equality. They want to be equal with men, to downplay their femininity. But in my church we teach that women are to be celebrated."
"How so?" Sarah asked. She tried not to look at Esther as if she was some sort of alien. Poor disillusioned girl, she thought. She's been completely brainwashed by the antiquated patriarchal paradigm of the Church.
"Being a wife and mother is the highest calling a woman can aspire to," she answered. "Look at Mary. She was exalted among all humankind because she was chosen to bear God's only Son. Her purity and selflessness are still celebrated thousands of years after His birth."
"Don't you think that women have value beyond reproduction? Don't you think it's at least as high of a calling, if not higher, to be a doctor or a teacher? A position in which you can influence hundreds or even thousands of people over a lifetime instead of just a few?"
"I think it's fine for women to be whatever they want to be," Esther replied. "That's why I'm here, learning all this stuff in college. I don't know what I want to do for a living yet, but I am absolutely positive no matter what my eventual career, that my greatest legacy will be my children."
Sarah smiled. It was hard to argue with her sincerity, no matter how naïve. What if she can't have children? Sarah thought. Then what? Can she not attain God’s favor? She thought about the two babies growing inside her. She wondered how Esther would react if she told her she was pregnant with twins. Am I about to score a lot of points with The Man Upstairs? And then she wondered: Would she pray for me?
"We're from two different world, Esther," Sarah remarked, "but I admire you. I hope that being a wife and mother is everything you want it to be."
"Not my will,” she answered as if it was a response she was used to giving. “Not my will, but God’s.”
***
Abby tried not to let the jet lag grab ahold of her. She was exhausted from taking such a late flight and touching down at BWI before dawn pierced the skies hovering over the East Coast. It felt weird to be so near sea level now after being in the mountains for three months. Her lungs felt so full of air they might explode, and her head was pounding. Oxygen overload, she thought.
Nevertheless, she arrived at her grandmother's bedside as soon as she could. Sarah dropped her off so she could work on preparations for Thanksgiving Dinner, which would be at Rachel's house. Abby felt sad that her grandmother wouldn't be able to attend, but Dale had promised to keep her company. His adult children were going to their mother's house for the holiday.
Abby tiptoed into the room as if she was trying not to disturb a sleeping infant. But her grandmother was propped up on three fluffy white pillows, an open book fanned out on her lap. Her reading glasses were pushed to the end of her nose, and despite her skin looking pale, she had retained every ounce of sparkle in her eyes that she ever had. They lit up like fireworks when her granddaughter appeared in the doorway. "My beautiful Abigail!" she exclaimed, her voice cracking a bit from her surgery. "Come and sit!" She patted the edge of the bed.
Abby wasn't sure what she expected to see. Perhaps for the energetic force she'd known for her entire life to have somehow been subdued, wounded, bandaged. But with the exception of a tinge of hoarseness, Kathy Lynde seemed no worse for the wear. "How are you feeling?" Abby asked.
"Oh, like I want to get back outside and doing stuff, but otherwise great! Dale has been taking good care of me. Adam has been too. They're keepers, that's for sure!" she winked. Abby knew that her Uncle Adam was asleep in her grandmother's guest room, but she didn't want to disturb him. He'd always been a night owl who preferred sleeping in late.
Wisps of sunlight tried to sneak in through the tightly-closed blinds on the eastern-facing window. A small, antique brass lamp with a fringed shade illuminated half of the bed. Abby wondered how her grandmother could read in such low lighting. "Tell me all about school!" she urged.
"School is good," Abby replied without hesitation. It was a rehearsed response, but not inaccurate. She was weary from the grind of the semester, the peak of exams and papers always falling in the same week. She was thankful for the break, but wondering what Mia was doing in her absence. She had said she was going to pick up extra shifts at the restaurant to earn some cash for the holidays. Abby secretly hoped the windfall would enable her to travel to Maryland with her over winter break.
Kathy Lynde reached over to grab the water bottle at her bedside. As she slowly took a long sip, a wise expression rearranged her features. "You're missing someone," she observed.
The younger woman straightened her back, squared her shoulders as if she was about to get defensive. She felt some words stuck in her throat, but she knew her grandmother well enough to know there was no point in arguing, and besides, she was undoubtedly correct. She gathered her long hair into her fist and then placed it so it all streamed down one side of her neck like a honey-colored waterfall.
"Oh,
Grandma," she laughed. "I'm not missing my English Comp professor, I'll tell you that." Abby had learned the art of diffusing unwanted attention with humor from James. While her mother would just change the subject back to the "accuser," James would throw out a witty pun or a sarcastic quip.
And to further remove her from interrogation, Adam stumbled into the room. Right on cue, Abby thought. "I thought I heard my Abby-Boo!" he bellowed in his deep baritone. He'd been calling her Abby-Boo since she was an infant. He literally picked her up off the bed and squeezed her so hard that some of the vertebrae in her back popped.
"How's my college girl?" he asked when he finally released her. He smiled so broadly that Abby noticed how white is teeth were contrasted against his dark, mildly unruly beard.
"I'm good! How's Brandon?" she questioned, thinking about what a cute couple Adam and his partner made.
"He's awesome! He just got a promotion at work. And hey, I've got some news for you that I shared with my mom and your mom last night!"
"What's that?"
"We're getting married! I popped the question last week on his 30th birthday. I said he's a real adult now so it's about time we behaved like adults and settled down all proper-like. We're hoping to adopt!"
Abby threw her arms around him. "Oh my god! I was hoping you'd say that. When's the wedding?" She envisioned a huge multi-tiered cake with two handsome dark-haired groom figurines on top.
"Well, we were going to get married in the summer so that no one would have to take time off from school. My entire family is made up of either teachers or students!" he laughed. "But your mom having twins
in June is kinda putting a damper on that. So, I don't know. I wanted to elope but Brandon pretty much has his heart set on a huge freakin' party!"
"Well, you should have a huge freakin' party!" Kathy interrupted. "It's not every day that you get married! Hopefully, anyway!”
They all laughed and nodded, but Kathy's earlier observation about Abby was still hanging in the air around them like a dense fog hugging the ground after a summer rain. "So what's your social life like at school, Abby?" she pressed.
"Don't tell me you're in your room all the time studying," Adam interjected, shaking his head with mock disappointment. "I don't want you to miss out on the college experience."
She suddenly felt brave. Here were two of the most supportive and least judgmental people she knew. What did she have to fear? "I think I got enough of the 'college experience' at the party I went to with my friend Maddy earlier in the semester," she laughed.
"Oh, yeah, why do you say that?" Adam asked.
She made a face like she was vomiting accompanied by sound effects. Adam and Kathy laughed. "I learned my lesson early," she promised.
"So who is Maddy?" Kathy questioned.
"Just a girl who lives in my building. We usually eat meals together and hang out sometimes." She understood her grandmother’s angle, but she was barking up the wrong tree. She impulsively blurted out, "I do have a girlfriend though. And her name is Mia.
Abby scanned the faces of her relatives to gauge their shock as they processed her statement. But there wasn't any, just kind, happy eyes. Relief cradled her like a newborn. 'That's awesome. What's she like?"
Adam asked. She expected him to look at his mother to see her reaction, but he didn't. He maintained eye contact with his niece.
"She's smart and sarcastic and beautiful. She wants to be a math teacher, so she's helping me with my pre-calculus class and I'm helping her with English Comp. That's where we met."
"That's great!" Kathy smiled. "Does your mom know?" She said it as if she knew the answer was no. Because, naturally, she'd have known already if Sarah was aware of the situation.
Abby shook her head. "No... I..." She stopped herself before she tripped over her words. She let air fill her lungs and then be released back into the room before continuing. "I know Mom won't care. I'm more worried about telling James and telling my dad."
"Your mother will support you 100% NO MATTER WHAT," Adam assured her.
"I know." She felt emotion welling up in her like water filling a hose when the spigot is turned on. It had nowhere to go but out. She bit her lip and forced back all of the tears but one, even though her eyes remained wet and glassy. "I just don't want to disappoint anyone."
"Abby, you're so young. We all want you to get out in the world and live your truth. And be open to the idea that what your truth is right now when you're 18 is different than what it might be when you're 30.
You're figuring out who you are and what you want from life. And if anyone has a problem with that, then that's not love," Kathy said.
She still couldn't eradicate that mental block, the high stone wall she felt where her father was concerned. Because I just met him, she considered. I still feel like I have to be a version of myself he'd find acceptable.
"He's pretty religious," Abby explained. "And his new girlfriend...well, I just get the feeling she's a judgmental bitch. I know my dad loves me, but I don't think he's ready to hear I'm a lesbian yet. I'm afraid...I'm afraid he won't want me to be around my little sisters anymore."
And that -- that was the real truth of the matter. Abby had become attached to Emma and Elise, even if the former had a smart-aleck pre-teen mouth. She knew they both looked up to her. Elise worshipped the ground she walked on. How could she pop into their lives for but a moment and then be forced to disappear?
Adam gently placed his hand on Abby's back and started to massage her shoulders. "I get it, trust me. Brandon went through the same sort of conflicted feelings when he came out to his family. You just have to do what you think is best. But let me tell you this: you're never going to feel like you are really part of your dad's family as long as you aren't able to be your authentic self around them."
Abby nodded. This, she knew. She just had to weigh the two against each other, and right now it seemed more selfish to "live her truth" than to suck it up and be a big sister to Emma and Elise.
***
Sarah tried not to think about the fact that her mother wasn’t at the Thanksgiving table. Rachel’s dining room was gleaming with crystal, silver and smiles but Kathy Lynde’s wasn’t amongst the decorations. I honestly think this may be the first Thanksgiving in my entire life that my mother didn’t make her famous sweet potato pie and green bean casserole, Sarah sighed with a stabby ping of sadness. James locked eyes onto her from across the table as if he felt her pain.
I’m being silly, Sarah chided herself. I’m truly blessed that she’s alive. And she’s not alone. Dale is taking care of her today. She looked around the table at the rest of her family: her beloved James; her amazing children, Abby and Owen; her wonderfully supportive and loving brother, Adam; her best friend in the world, Rachel, and her awesome family Jack, Tom, Gia and baby Amethyst, who couldn’t wait to eat and had smeared peas and mashed potatoes everywhere but within a two-centimeter radius of her mouth.
“Thank you so much for hosting this year, Rachel,” Sarah said as Jack delivered the turkey to the table.
“It was my turn!” Rachel exclaimed. “And we’re happy to do it, especially now in our new house with this seriously huge dining room. It’s nice to have it full of people!”
“Can we just eat?” Owen snapped. His eyeballs were all over the food like sharks circling a wounded seal in the ocean. He already had a fork in his hand and was ready to dig in.
“Typically we go around the table and discuss what we’re thankful for, but I’m not sure the teenage boys are going to last any longer. So maybe we can break with tradition and do that after dinner instead?” Jack suggested.
“Alright!” Tom yelled and he and Owen began to shovel potatoes onto their plates and grab fistfuls of rolls.
“Boys, leave some food for everyone else,” James reprimanded them in his most authoritarian voice.
Sarah had been feeling queasy all morning. She wasn’t sure if it was morning sickness, which up until this point, she hadn’t truly b
een affected by, or if it was just nerves about her mother and having Adam and Abby both home. She spooned a few bites of everything onto her plate. She could scarcely imagine next year at Thanksgiving having two four-month-old babies needing her attention. I should probably enjoy eating meals uninterrupted now, she reflected. It may be several years before I get that luxury again.
She thought about all the sacrifices her mother had made for her and Adam as they were growing up. Their father left when Sarah was a young girl, and Kathy had single-handedly raised the two. For much of the time, she didn’t have her mother or other relatives living nearby to help, an advantage Sarah had. Once Sarah and Adam started school, Kathy went back to school too to finish her degree in elementary education. Then she went on to teach for twenty years while her children finished elementary school, high school and college. Once she retired, she followed Sarah to Maryland so she could help raise Abby and Owen.
Since finding out she was expecting twins, Sarah sometimes wondered if she was too old to start over again. She wondered if she had enough energy to chase after two rambunctious toddlers. But then she remembered that she had James, and she had her mother to help her. And her mother had been raising children since she was twenty-one years old. Even now that she was approaching sixty, she couldn’t wait to have baby duty again.
It seems a daunting task to gestate these babies for nine months and then nurse them and raise them for eighteen years, she thought. But looking at Abby and Owen across the table from her, she couldn’t help but feel some wistful jabs that they were so independent and grown. It’s true that one minute you’re holding this tiny baby, and then the next they’re driving and heading off to college. It just happens in a flash.
She remembered her mother chasing Owen through the park, pushing him in the swings and climbing up the ladder to the slide with him. She was only a little older than I’ll be when the twins are born, Sarah thought.
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