by Julia Wolf
“I’m thankful for the way life has surprised me. I have more love and friendship than one person deserves, and I only hope I’m giving back as much as I’ve gotten from all of you.”
“We love you, Frannie!” exclaimed Laurel, with Rachel and Eliza nodding in agreement.
I grinned at James. “Your turn, fella!”
He cleared his throat and looked around the room nervously. “I’m really thankful Ryan dragged me out of that room months ago. The best parts of my life have happened since then.”
I squeezed James’ thigh and laid my head on his shoulder for a moment. For someone who claimed to be bad with words, he always knew the right things to say.
“I’d say we have a lot to be thankful for at this table. Let’s eat, friends!” Rachel held up her fork and scooped up a big forkful of mashed potatoes.
I filled myself to the brim with all the traditional Thanksgiving foods, which was good because I never went anywhere on the actual day. Eating turkey and stuffing was not enough of an incentive for me to pretend to make nice with my parents, and my brother usually went to his wife’s family. So, my Thanksgivings were spent at home watching the Macy’s parade and Westminster dog show and if I was feeling really fancy, I’d treat myself to a full turkey dinner for one from Whole Foods. My mother never let me eat anything with cream or butter, so my childhood Thanksgiving meals didn’t hold any fond memories.
“Rachel and Joe, everything is so delicious!” said Eliza.
Rachel waved her hand toward Laurel. “I made at least a hundred emergency phone calls to Laurel. Thankfully she has the patience of a saint and held my hand the whole way.”
Laurel scoffed. “A hundred, Rachel, really?”
“I said at least!” Rachel protested.
“Your sweet potatoes remind me of my mom’s,” James said to Rachel.
“Yeah, they do!” agreed Ryan.
“I hope that’s a compliment!” When they both nodded enthusiastically, she smiled. “Joe and I are going to his parents’ house next week. My mom’s flying in from Oregon. First meeting of the parental units.”
Joe brushed his fingers over her arm. “It’ll be perfect, Rach. Your mom will have my mom making protests signs in her craft room before we can blink.”
“Eliza and I will be joining both of our families at our club,” Edward said. He’d been quiet for so long, the whole table startled. It seemed we had all forgotten he was there.
I held back the eye roll that was yearning to come out.
“I’m making my semi-annual pilgrimage to my homeland. New Jersey,” Laurel announced. “I keep trying to convince Frannie to come with me, but no luck.”
“You know I have my Thanksgiving traditions! Can’t give those up,” I said playfully.
I felt James watching me. “What?” I asked quietly.
“What are you doing on Thanksgiving?” he asked.
I shrugged. “It’s not my favorite day. I usually just watch TV and veg.”
“Holy shit, that’s a gorgeous tattoo!” yelled Charlie. His eyes were on Eliza, who had pushed the sleeves of her cardigan up to her elbows.
Her cheeks blushed furiously when he grabbed her wrist and pulled it toward him to examine the tattoo more closely. He traced his fingertips over the Victorian-style shears with awe.
“Gorgeous,” Charlie repeated.
“We’re tattoo buddies,” I said. I lifted my hair up to show him my miniaturized version.
“Ha, that’s cute.” He looked back and forth between Eliza and me. “Did you guys plan your tattoos together?”
“Mine was completely spur of the moment,” I answered.
James rubbed the little shears with his big fingers. When he was behind me, he liked to bite and lick that spot now. I shivered just thinking of his mouth on my neck and what he was usually doing to me when he was in that position.
“And Eliza snuck around behind my back and deformed herself,” Edward interjected.
Eliza pulled her arm away from Charlie and pushed her sleeve down. Her eyes were glued to the table and I gaped at James helplessly. How could she let him talk to her like that?
“What the fuck, man? Who says shit like that about their girl? She has art on her skin.” Charlie looked pissed and I felt guilty because I, one of her best friends, should have been the one to say it. But we were all so used to Edward’s mistreatment of Eliza that we were lost for words.
“It’s low-class. Pray my mother doesn’t see it.” Edward seemed completely unruffled.
“And if she does?” I challenged.
He glanced at me and frowned. “Mother won’t like it.”
I sputtered. “E, really?” I stared at my friend, but she wouldn’t look up. She was twisting the corner of the tablecloth into a tight spiral.
“It’s okay,” she said quietly.
“It’s really not,” Rachel declared.
“I have tattoos, are you saying I’m low-class?” asked Charlie.
Edward narrowed his eyes. “If the shoe fits…”
Eliza scooted out her chair noisily and stood. “We have to go now. I’m sorry, everyone. Thank you for having us, Rachel and Joe. Congratulations again. I wish you all the happiness in the world.”
I started to stand to hug her, to beg her to stay and ditch Edward, to hold her and pat her hair and tell her everything would be okay, but she waved me away. With tears in her eyes, she shook her head and smiled sadly.
Edward stood without a word and walked out of the room. Eliza waved one more time and followed him.
“Jesus,” muttered Charlie.
“He keeps getting worse,” said Joe.
Rachel and I communicated wordlessly across the table. I knew her devastated expression reflected my own. How could we help our friend when she didn’t want it? We’d tried compassion, we’d tried staying out of it, maybe it was time for tough love.
I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “Well, that was a little too similar to my childhood for comfort. I’ve had more than enough uncomfortable Thanksgivings to last a lifetime.”
“Poor Eliza,” Laurel said.
“I am one hundred percent positive she wouldn’t want us analyzing what just happened. Frannie and I will talk with her in private soon. Hopefully she’ll be willing to listen this time.” Rachel reached her hand out to me across the table and I put mine in hers. She squeezed it and gave me a tight-lipped smile. I nodded. I know.
“I think we need pie. Pie always makes everything better,” Ryan declared.
Because the rest of us were kind of at a loss at how the lovely day had been derailed, we helped Joe and Rachel clean up, then the seven of us retreated into the living room with dessert plates in hand. James sat on their gray sectional while I found a comfy spot on the floor between his legs. The rest of the group was scattered around the room, some on the couch, some on the floor, and Charlie had found a seat on the piano bench. I thought he looked a little shell-shocked by everything.
“We’re usually much more fun than this,” I told him.
Charlie barked out a laugh. “That was some bullshit. How can you put up with that guy?”
Ryan held his hands up. “I’ve never met the man before, don’t look at me!”
“We love our friend. So, we keep trying with Edward, but I think I’m done now,” I said.
I glanced at Rachel and she seemed like she was in real pain. She’d told me in the past that Edward reminded her of her controlling ex, so I knew seeing him talk to Eliza the way he did upset her both for our friend and for her past self. Luckily, she had Joe, who was holding her close in his arms. I leaned my head against James’ knee and sighed when he stroked the top of my hair.
“When are you guys thinking of having the wedding?” James asked suddenly.
Rachel actually smiled and looked at Joe. Bless James for changing the subject to a much happier one.
“We want to have the wedding outside, so probably late spring or early summer,” answered Joe.
Rachel kissed her new fiancé’s cheek. “At first, I was thinking beach, but now I’m picturing either a garden or more of a rustic farm. I guess we’ll have to start looking soon.”
I glanced up at James when she said the word ‘farm’ and he grinned down at me.
“My parents own a farm really close by. You should come by to see it. They’ve actually had a couple weddings there before,” James said.
Rachel’s eyes widened. “No!” she said in disbelief.
He laughed and nodded. “Yep!” He took out his phone and scrolled through until he found a picture of one of the weddings the farm had hosted. He showed it to me, then passed it to Rachel.
She studied it closely, using two fingers to zoom in and out, then she looked up and clapped. “Joe! We can get married on James’ farm! Oh my god, I just know this is going to be perfect!”
Joe smiled and held her closer. “That’s awesome, James. Let us know when we can come see the place. I think we’d both love not to have to check out venue after venue.”
“Can I be the flower girl?” asked Laurel. Everyone laughed until we realize she was completely serious.
Rachel tapped her chin. “It’s unconventional…but I love it. Joe, Laurel’s the flower girl!”
“I know some guys who have a really cool band that do weddings. Want me to hook you up?” asked Charlie.
“Hell yeah, we do,” answered Rachel.
After that, we all ate our pie and talked about happy things like wedding plans and music. Friendsgiving had been saved, even though there was a giant pink elephant in a tutu dancing around in the corner we were all desperately trying to ignore.
When we were leaving, Rachel pulled me aside and whispered, “Intervention?”
“We have to say something. At this point I think we’re bad friends if we don’t. If Edward treats her like that in public, imagine what he must say when they’re alone.” I hugged her fiercely and we swayed together on the porch for a long moment. When we pulled back, I wiped the tear that was running down her cheek. “Look at you, Rachel. You’re getting married to your dream guy. You better bask in this, sister, or we’re going to have words. Got it?”
She sniffled-laughed. “Got it! Love you, Frannie.”
“Love you too, Rach.”
The car ride back to Baltimore was subdued. Ryan and Laurel kept up a steady quiet chatter in the backseat and I stared out my window, although I could feel James’ eyes on me.
Like Edward and Eliza, the love I knew my entire life had been conditional, with strings attached. If I didn’t do or say the exact right thing, that love was withheld.
The last time I saw my mother had been at my niece’s birthday party. She took one look at my short hair, said I’d cut off all my beauty, and then refused to speak to me for the rest of the party. I’d always wondered if that same ugliness was hiding inside me, just waiting for the right person to strangle with my conditional affection. I was scared down to my bones I’d end up like her.
I rubbed the dull ache radiating from the center of my chest. How could I let James fall in love with me if one day I’d hurt him like that? Would I snatch my love away from him if he did some inconsequential thing to piss me off? I panicked at the possibility.
We dropped Laurel off at our apartment and Ryan wandered off into the night to meet a guy, or friends, or something else far more fun than hanging out with his brother and his sad sack girlfriend.
When we stepped into James’ condo he pulled me tightly against him.
“Frannie…” he whispered into my hair.
“I fucking know, James.” I grabbed his beard with both hands and pulled his face to mine. I kissed him hard. I needed his mouth on me, his arms around me, his cock inside me. I didn’t need his useless words. So, he carried me into the bedroom and gave me exactly what I needed.
Twenty-Four
I wasn’t snooping. At least not on purpose. James had run out to pick up coffee and muffins before he had to work, and I embarked on my Monday adventures. It had been two days since Friendsgiving. I saw Eliza at work the next day, but she seemed to be purposely avoiding any kind of conversation by staying at the front desk when she was between clients. I finally cornered her and told her we were going to the wine bar after work Tuesday. She nodded but didn’t meet my eyes. It tore me up inside to see her so withdrawn.
The fear I’d uncovered two days ago still sat in my chest like a lead weight. Every time James was sweet and loving toward me, the weight grew heavier. I tried so hard to smile back and ignore the pressure building, but it was constant, and it felt real.
Trying to relax, I meandered through his condo, gliding my fingertips along the surfaces I passed. Ryan’s door was still closed and there weren’t any sounds coming from within, so I assumed he was still sleeping. I stopped to gaze out the windows overlooking the sparkling water, then continued my walk. I passed James’ bedroom then ventured into his office. I looked out the windows in there, which had the same view as the living room.
On my way out, I walked by his desk and noticed one of the drawers was slightly open, so I tried to push it shut, only it wouldn’t budge because something was in the way. Like in a horror movie, instead of following my instincts and running out of the room, I opened the drawer. On top was a framed picture…of me.
With shaking hands, I picked up the 5x7 frame and stared at the picture it held. It was as familiar as the back of my hand. I was in silhouette, leaping in front of a setting sun. I saw this picture all the time since it was the one hanging above my bed. Somehow James had a smaller version of it.
I sat down on the carpet with the picture in my lap. That day came back to me in a rush. Ryan had banged on my hotel room door until I opened it. He begged and pleaded with me until I finally agreed to join him and a few other dancers on a stroll along the beach. We’d taken turns leaping across the sand and splashing in the ocean. It was one of my happiest memories of that time because of the simplicity of it.
Holding the picture inches from my face, I searched for clues as to why James had a copy of it. When I suddenly remembered Ryan had been the one to take it, I gasped. He’d brought an extra fancy camera with him and taken pictures of all the dancers that day. Ryan emailed me a copy, but obviously he’d kept it for himself.
The weight in my chest had spread, holding me down on the floor. When I heard my name being called, I couldn’t move, couldn’t call out. I just sat there staring blindly at the picture and waited.
“Frannie? What are you doing in here?” James asked from the doorway. “Are you okay?”
He knelt in front of me, and I finally looked at him with tears in my eyes. “Why do you have this?”
He sat back on the floor and whooshed out a long breath. “Ryan sent it to me.”
“When?”
James shook his head. “A long time ago.”
“Why would he give you this?” I didn’t understand what was going on, but I was dreading my own questions and his answers. I wanted to rewind and never see that damn open drawer.
“I had a crush on a beautiful dancer I met when I was thirteen.” James looked down at the picture in my lap. He didn’t try to touch me. Even when his words made me wince.
“What?” I whispered.
He nodded. “I told you my parents and I went to all of Ryan’s performances. I guess it didn’t occur to you I saw you dance during those performances too.”
I shook my head violently, my hair slapping my cheeks. “No, it did not occur to me, James. And we met somehow?”
“I was a kid. We met backstage once. Even at thirteen I could see how sad you were, but you smiled through it and took the time to say hi to my parents and me. I’d never seen anyone more beautiful. I still haven’t.”
I raked my hands through my hair. “I don’t remember you.” I didn’t remember any of that.
His laugh sounded bitter. “Well, I didn’t exactly look like I do now. And I was a fucking weird kid, Frannie. It’s not like I actually spo
ke to you.”
I tried to picture James as a little kid, to remember meeting my only friend, Ryan’s family. But everything was a blur from those two years. The cities, the people, even the dancing all blended together because I had been too caught up in my own internal turmoil to really absorb anything. Now, ten years later I wished I could recall all the places I went to and people I met, but the memories had faded away into a haze in the back of my mind.
I gasped with sudden realization. “Did you recognize me at Bar Royal? Did you know I was the same dancer you’d had a crush on ten years ago?”
“Of course I did,” he murmured. He gingerly touched my shaking hand, like I was a wild animal and he was trying not to spook me. “I could never forget you. When you walked in the bar that night, all the air was sucked from my lungs. I couldn’t stop looking at you. And then you looked back at me, and you kept looking back at me every time you came in.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” My words were so weak, they barely came out as a whisper. The weight in my chest was suffocating me, but it felt like the only thing keeping me tethered to the ground. The rest of me wanted to float away. I didn’t want to do this. I wanted to love James, but I didn’t want to have to do any of this hard stuff.
“I could barely speak to you, Frannie. I’d only just been dragged out of this room by Ryan and in you walked with the most beautiful smile. This time it wasn’t a sad smile. I could tell you’d dragged yourself out of the prison you’d been in a decade ago. Plus, I knew you wouldn’t remember me and I never imagined we’d be where we are.”
“And that’s why you went home with me? To fulfill your adolescent fantasies?”
James cupped my cheeks and wiped away the tear rolling down my cheek with his thumb. “No, Frannie. I went home with you because I wanted you. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing, though, and I got completely overwhelmed. I never thought you’d let me touch you again after I fucked up like that.”
I started to lean against his hand on my cheek. “Well, thankfully you had a little more practice before we tried again.”