by Taryn Steele
JAMESON WAS THE PERFECT NURSE. He took me to the walk in clinic to have my hand checked out. The nurse took me in for an x-ray and nothing was fractured or broken. Doctor said I badly bruised my hand and two of my knuckles. He said I was doing everything right by keeping it propped up on a pillow with ice. He prescribed me some medicine for the pain and swelling.
My parents were cool, and kept their space. Jameson told them we were having an indoor camping vacation. They actually bought that story. He did a good job of keeping my hand hidden from them but they finally saw it. I told them I injured it goofing off at work in the warehouse. They believed it so I went with it. Jameson likes my parents and they like him so it wasn’t terrible hanging out with them at night watching television. I don’t know if it’s because it was my own house, or that I knew I didn’t have to worry about doing anything wrong like I do with Marcie, but I was relaxed for once. It was a nice change. Jameson seemed relaxed as well.
Thinking positive!
“You constantly disappoint me.”
November 14, 2002
IT’S A WEEK AWAY FROM THANKSGIVING and Marcie has been asking us about our plans for the day since October. A busy Thanksgiving day is a piece of cake to Jameson. His parents have been divorced for most of his life. He’s used to shuffling around all day long. I’m not used to this. This means we’ll have three different places to go. First, we’ll drive about seventy five minutes out to his mom’s side of the family, then about half an hour to go see his dad, and then just under an hour to finally be at my parents’. By then I’ll probably be ready for bed.
Thanksgiving Day
Marcie has been trying to convince us to drive together to her parent’s house. We constantly remind her about the other two places we have to go. I’m not sure if she is desperate to tag along with us or she is trying to prevent us from spending the day anywhere else. When she finally grasps the concept that we will not be driving together she tries to convince us to follow her to her parents’. The entire fifty mile drive consisted of us trying to out-drive Marcie. She thought Jameson was trying to race her. She would wave, call us to tell us what cool songs were on the radio, and make faces like a child. It was so annoying; we couldn’t have a conversation without her interrupting us in some way or another.
We stayed at Marcie’s parents’ house for two hours. That was the deal, two hours each house. When it was time for us to leave most people were finishing up eating dessert. When we got up from the table and started saying our goodbye’s Marcie dropped her fork on her plate so loudly everyone stopped what they were doing.
“You’re leaving now?” she said, with an extreme irritation in her voice to match the anger in her face. Her eyes were squinted tight, her jaw clenched. Jameson was very calm, trying not to add to the scene Marcie had already started.
“Yes, we are leaving. As discussed many times before we still have two other places to go.” Everyone else understood and told us how happy that we were able to come and have Thanksgiving lunch with them. Everyone but Marcie understood.
As much as I love Jameson’s grandparents I was relieved to leave. It had been at least a month since I had seen Rick, Jameson’s dad, and I couldn’t wait to give that man a big, squishy hug. He understood our busy day and our plan of two-hour increments. He didn’t make a scene, a face or shout explicits when we said we had to go. He said he was happy to see us, understood our busy day, long drive and said to say “hello” to my parents.
It was six o’clock in the evening by the time we arrived at my house to see my parents for the holiday. There were already a few cars in the driveway. My parent’s friends have always come over around dinner time to make soups and sandwiches with the leftovers. By now, we are ready for our second Thanksgiving helping. I laugh when I saw Jameson’s eyes practically pop out of his head when he saw the entire dining room table covered in food. That didn’t even include the dessert in the kitchen. It made me giggle. When I show him the dessert table in the kitchen I could swear I heard angels sing. His face glows, his eyes are wide and the biggest smile appears on his face.
Our Thanksgiving dinner was filled with good food and good laughs. So different from the unease at Jameson’s grandparent’s house. I had felt a lot of tension between Marcie and her brother John, and I overheard a big argument the two of them got in to and pushing was involved. One sister was on Marcie’s side, the other on John’s side, while the cousins were trying to stay out of it.
Too much drama under one little roof on Thanksgiving for me. I wish I could say I’m glad the day is over but my car is at Jameson’s. I just don’t want to get attitude from Marcie when we go back there. I know she’s going to ask how long we stayed at Rick’s and my parents. It’s not fair of her to ask. For the sake of the day and to not get in to a possible argument with Jameson I decide to bite my tongue. If Marcie says anything I will just walk away, go to Jameson’s room and close the door. Sometimes actions speak louder than words so if I need to, that is what I will do.
AS WE PULL INTO THE APARTMENT complex parking lot I look up to the corner sliding glass door of Marcie and Jameson’s apartment. The lights are on, so Marcie’s home. I make an unintentional loud sigh saying “shit” under my breath. Jameson heard me. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing. I’m just tired. Long day.” I tell him.
“I hear ya. I’m pretty beat too. That was a lot of driving. How about when we get inside we change in to something comfortable, and watch a movie?” He suggests.
“In your room or the living room?”
“Wherever you want.”
I give him a look that should tell him he knows I don’t mean the living room.
“You want to cuddle in bed and watch a movie with me?” He asks.
“Yes please.” I say, while badly batting my eyelashes trying to be cute. He shakes his head and laughs. I smack him on the arm and call him a jerk under my breath and get out of the car.
I’m saying a silent Hail Mary prayer to myself as we climb the three flights of stairs to the apartment. Jameson puts his key in to the lock, turns and pushes the door open. I can already see the cloud of cigarette smoke in the room. Even though I’m a smoker too, I would at least crack a window.
“Oh well, look who finally showed up!” She shouts, as we walk in.
“Jesus Christ” I mutter to myself. I fucking called it, and she didn’t even wait until we were completely in the room. Shit, I didn’t even close the door yet.
“Having some beer are ya mom?” Jameson asks.
“Yup, I sure am. This is what you do when you’re all alone on the holidays.” Wow! She is taking him for a trip. A guilt trip.
“No one told you to leave Grandma and Grandpas’, mom. You could have stayed there all day and night.”
She stabs out her cigarette in the ashtray and stands up from the couch marching to the kitchen with her empty beer can. “You left me there. What was the point in staying all night?”
Jameson drops his head shaking it back and forth already irritated. I take off my shoes and hang up my jacket muttering, “This is ridiculous” under my breath. I look at Jameson. “I’ll be damned if I am going to be made to feel guilty for spending time with my own damn family on Thanksgiving.”
I do what I told myself to do if this happened. I walked straight to Jameson’s bedroom and closed the door. I’m pacing the small room back and forth infuriated. I can only hear mumbled voices outside of the room. I don’t know what is being said, it’s not clear enough for me to understand. I’m almost tempted to grab my stuff and leave. I decide to wait until Jameson comes in and tells me what was said.
It’s been almost twenty minutes and Jameson is still out there. I’m getting anxious. I’m getting impatient. I’m on the verge of screaming. This is bullshit! I sit down on the bed and take a few deep breaths. Then it hits me. Christmas is a month away. What happens then? There are some traditions that I won’t give up, number one is Christmas Eve at Grandma and Grandpa Nowal’s
.
I won’t give that up. Christmas day I am willing to work around like I did today but not Christmas Eve. I remember Jameson mentioning that his favorite was Christmas Eve with his dad’s family as well, so we don’t have to worry about that. He’ll go to his family and I’ll go to mine. We will see each other on Christmas day. When and how long? God only knows what plans Marcie will have cooked up for that day.
Thinking back to earlier today with Jameson’s family, I remember his cousins talking about leaving early to go see other friends and family. At the time I thought they were joking but I realize now their conversation was very serious. They were talking about the two sisters of manipulation. They laughed about always having their bags packed for multiple guilt trips. They might have been laughing about it but now I realize how serious they really were.
I hear the door push open. I turn my head and see Jameson walking in. I can’t read him. His eyes look tired but that could be from the long day of driving. The vein on the right side of his forehead is throbbing. That usually means he’s stressed. He runs his hands over his face and sits down next to me on the bed then drops back, staring at the ceiling for a short moment then closes his eyes.
I don’t know what was said between him and Marcie, so I’m cautious with my approach. I lay back next to him, put my head next to his, lay a gentle kiss on his cheek, put my arm over his chest and just lay there with him. In a situation like this, sometimes saying nothing is the best approach.
Exhaustion took the best of us that night. Whether I wanted to go home or not my body spoke up and said ‘not gonna happen.’ Jameson and I fell asleep just as we were, in our clothes, hand in hand.
“I bet if I stand close enough to you, I can hear the ocean.”
December 10, 2002
CHRISTMAS IS RAPIDLY APPROACHING. A lot of my close family members said they wanted to get Jameson and I gifts for our future home. I was worried about saying yes, afraid to jinx anything but then Jameson reminded me that there was nothing to jinx. We hadn’t found ‘the one’ yet, nothing was on deposit so there was nothing to jinx.
Marcie was pressing us hard for our Christmas Day plans. She waited until three days after Thanksgiving to bring it up the first time. I was immediately irritated but I tried to be funny in my response, mentioning we had just recovered from Thanksgiving, and Christmas plans were the last thing on my mind, so she was just going to have to wait until I was good and ready. She didn’t say anything in response. I think I shocked her and I love that. It made Jameson smile to see me give it back to her, and it made me stand a little taller and prouder to have that support from him.
Jameson and I decided that since Christmas Eve night with our father’s families was very important to both of us, we would both keep our plans with them. When Jameson leaves his family he’ll come pick me up and we’ll spend the night at his apartment with Marcie. Christmas morning we’ll do all over again what we did on Thanksgiving. I wish I could convince Jameson to do the opposite but Marcie gave him a really hard time about going to his grandparents for lunch.
She didn’t give a shit about me missing lunch with my family. Her response was for me to stay home, and for her and Jameson to go without me. The same exact response she had when I told her my family did lunch on Thanksgiving. She didn’t care. She told me to stay home and I could see Jameson at night. A very serious pattern is forming here and it’s really pissing me off. I decided to be the bigger person in this situation, and agreed to another holiday of craziness and lots of driving. I told myself we would just change it around next year, it’s only fair. I foresee a battle in my future but I don’t care. Marcie needs to put on her big girl panties and deal with it. Fair is fair.
Just like last year I don’t know what to get Jameson for Christmas. My mom just said, “A good wife knows her husband like no one else does,” and then walked away. What does that mean? That because I don’t know what to get him, I’m not good wife material? I was furious.
Bevan, Lily, Jameson and I meet at Olive Garden that night for a double date. I enter the restaurant and immediately realize my dinner choices will not be easy.
I’ve been with Jameson for over a year now and I am still extremely self-conscious about my body and what I eat in front of him. It has been a constant battle for me. This is the Olive Garden, pasta central. It screams carbohydrates. I am completely indecisive. Jameson, Bevan and Lily and all talking about pasta and lasagna. I decide to order with chicken parmigiana. It at least has protein in it. I remind myself that I need to be comfortable in my own skin. The people at this table love me for me. I feel like I’m having a mini therapy session with my brain. The waitress, whose name tag reads CANDY, brings a large bowl of salad and breadsticks to the table.
“Would you ladies like some cheese or fresh black pepper on your salad?” She asks.
“No thank you.” Lily and I respond, simultaneously.
“Gentlemen, these buns are very hot. Handle with care. I mean breadsticks. The breadsticks are very hot.” She winks then giggles and walks away.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Lily says. I roll my eyes but laugh a little too.
“Oh come on. She’s just trying to get a big tip.” Bevan says.
“I’ll give her a tip. Wax your upper lip. Get a new lipstick shade that isn’t from the 80’s and if you thinking flirting with men at a table with their significant others is going to get you a bigger tip you are fucking clueless.” I state.
“I’m saying something to her.” Lily avows.
“Awww shit babe. I don’t want my food spat on.” Bevan pleads.
“He’s right Lil. If she continues and you want to say something can you at least wait until we are done with our meal and say it on our way out.” Jameson requests.
“Fine.” Lily utters.
And Candy did continue, the entire time we were there. Pathetic innuendos about the taste of the wine, the heat of the food, the sweetness of the desserts. I had never seen Lily’s face get so red. She looked like the tomato painted on the wall next to our table.
When it was time to pay the bill Candy attempted to hand it to Bevan but Lily snatched it right out of her hand. “Rule number one sweetie. Never assume the men are paying for the bill. Number two, never flirt with men while they are dining with their significant other. Number three, you aren’t getting shit for a tip for acting like a whore. This is the Olive Garden, not Hooters.”
Candy’s eyes were as wide as the moon. Her jaw was dropped to her chest. She was in disbelief at Lily’s words. Bevan and Jameson kept their heads down. I’m not sure if they were embarrassed or if they were trying to hide their amusement. I wasn’t trying to hide anything. My smile was huge and my laugh was loud. I waitressed when I was in high school. There are a lot of important people skills to learn and Candy needs a few more lessons.
Candy just stood there. She stared at us not moving, not saying a word. It was getting awkward.
“Why are you still standing here?” Lily barks at her. Candy shakes her head as if she is shaking her mind from a daydream and walks away.
“Holy shit, Lily! That was some serious shit you just laid on her,” I say.
“Well I’m sorry but she was completely out of line. I could see if we were dining at a strip club I would expect that behavior but this is a frickin’ family restaurant. Grow up.”
I couldn’t argue with her there. She opens up the bill and she tells us the total is $115.17 Jameson takes out his wallet. Bevan takes out his. Lily and I grab our purses, and we all start throwing twenties on the table. Jameson asks for the bill so he can see what exactly our meals and drinks costs to make sure we put out enough. Bevan counted up the money and said there was one hundred and twenty dollars.
“That’s more than enough for her. Seriously I don’t want to give her any more. Her attitude was disrespectful. Can you imagine her doing that to couples our parent’s age? It’s disgusting.” Lily states. “Let’s go. Seriously don’t put out any more money for he
r.”
Lily is getting fired up. The three of us are glaring at each other trying to telepathically tell each other to just go with it before her head explodes. As Lily stomps her way out of the Olive Garden we pass Candy walking back to the table. I silently give her an apology for the shitty tip but at the same time I feel like telling her “ya get what ya give.” You gave us shitty service, you get a shitty tip. Take the life lesson and learn from it.
I hope we have better luck at the mall.
JAMESON AND BEVAN ARE CURSING under their breath the craziness of the mall. I don’t know what they expected, it’s Christmas time. I don’t mind it as long as if you bump in to me you apologize. If you don’t I’m going call you an asshole. Manners can go a long way.
Lily and I have shopping for the guys to do and vice versa. We agree to go our separate ways and tell the guys we’ll meet back in an hour downstairs by the main escalator. They didn’t even give us a kiss good bye. No handshake, no high five, nothing. They just took off like a couple of adolescent kids at a Chuck-E-Cheese.
Our plan of action was to start with smaller gifts then hope Bevan can pull through for me on Jameson’s main gift. Lily and I went to Dick’s Sporting Goods first because we knew we could get the guys some skiing stuff. They like to do that once in a while. I found Jameson a great pair of North Face insulated gloves and hat and new goggles to go with it. Lily got Bevan a very expensive Burton’s Ripcord snowboard. I don’t know much about the sport, but when it comes to snow I just want to hop on a snowmobile. My parents didn’t take us out ice skating or skiing, but my dad took my brother and I ice fishing.