The following November arrived faster than I expected.
Eli was older now.
He was no longer the little boy who needed help climbing onto a dining chair.
He could carry his own backpack.
He could make his own breakfast if I left the cereal and bowl where he could reach them.
He had started understanding things that children shouldn't have to understand.
One evening, while I was folding laundry, he asked whether Lucy would be at Thanksgiving.
I told him she would.
He smiled.
"Good. I want to show her my new game."
I folded one of his shirts.
"She'll like that."
He went back to his room.
I stayed beside the laundry basket.
I knew what he hadn't asked.
He hadn't asked whether Danielle would be there.
But he already knew.
A few days later, Mom called.
She sounded cheerful.
She wanted to know whether we were coming.
I said I hadn't decided.
There was silence.
Then she asked what was stopping me.
I told her I didn't want another Thanksgiving like the previous ones.
Mom sighed.
"Danielle says she doesn't understand why you keep bringing up old arguments."
I almost laughed.
"Because they keep happening."
"She says she was joking."
"Mom, Eli is old enough to understand her."
"I know."
"Then why is nobody telling her to stop?"
Mom didn't answer.
Instead, she started talking about the food.
She asked whether I could bring a casserole.
I looked at the kitchen calendar.
I had already written Thanksgiving in the corner.
I hadn't crossed it out.
"Jenna?"
I heard her waiting.
"I'll think about it."
She thanked me.
Then she ended the call.
That evening, I sat on the edge of Eli's bed.
He was playing with his new game.
I asked whether he wanted to go to Grandma's house for Thanksgiving.
He shrugged.
"Will Lucy be there?"
"Yes."
He nodded.
I waited.
He looked at the game again.
"Will Aunt Danielle be there too?"
I didn't lie.
"Yes."
He moved one of the pieces.
"Okay."
That was all.
I wanted him to tell me what he was thinking.
I wanted him to say he didn't want to go.
Then I could have made the decision for both of us.
But he didn't.
He wanted to see Lucy.
He wanted to be part of the family.
And I couldn't blame him for that.
A week later, Mom called again.
This time, she sounded more serious.
She said Danielle had been told not to make comments about Eli.
I asked who had told her.
"Your father and I."
I sat down.
"And what did she say?"
"She said she understood."
I didn't believe it completely.
But I wanted to.
"She knows this is important to me?"
"Yes."
"She knows Eli can hear her?"
"Of course."
Mom paused.
"Please come, Jenna. It would mean a lot."
I looked toward Eli's bedroom.
He was drawing something at his desk.
I could hear the pencil moving across the paper.
"All right," I said.
Mom sounded relieved.
I told myself that perhaps this time would be different.
I told myself I was giving my parents one more chance.
And I told myself that Eli deserved the opportunity to spend Thanksgiving with Lucy without feeling that he had to choose between his cousin and his mother.
Looking back, I can see how much work I was doing to make one ordinary family gathering possible.
I was planning around Danielle's temper.
I was preparing Eli for a room full of adults.
I was hoping my mother would keep a promise.
And I was calling all of that family.
The week before Thanksgiving, I bought the ingredients for a sweet potato casserole.
Eli helped me carry the bags inside.
He put the marshmallows on the counter.
"Are these for the top?"
"Yes."
"Can I have some?"
I handed him a few.
He smiled.
The next morning, I made the casserole before work.
I covered it and put it in the refrigerator.
On Thanksgiving morning, I wrapped a folded towel around the baking dish.
Eli carried his jacket.
We drove to my parents' house.
The neighborhood looked the same as it always did.
Cars lined both sides of the street.
A few children were playing near a driveway.
Someone had placed a small American flag beside the front steps.
Mom opened the door before I knocked.
"There you are."
She hugged me.
Then she greeted Eli.
He asked where Lucy was.
"Upstairs, sweetheart."
He took off his shoes and went looking for her.
I carried the casserole into the kitchen.
Mom was already busy.
There were vegetables to prepare, dishes to arrange, and a counter full of things that needed to be moved.
She opened a cabinet.
"Could you get me another baking dish?"
I put the casserole down and followed her.
We spent several minutes arranging food.
Mom asked about my work.
I told her the office had been busy.
She asked whether Eli was doing well in school.
I said he was.
For a moment, it felt like an ordinary holiday.
Then Danielle walked into the kitchen.
She was wearing a nice blouse and had her hair arranged carefully.
She looked at the casserole.
"Did you make that?"
"Yes."
She nodded.
Nothing more.
I waited.
She asked Mom whether the turkey was ready.
Mom answered.
The conversation moved on.
I didn't know whether Danielle was trying to behave or simply waiting for another opportunity.
I decided not to look for trouble.
That was another mistake.
Because I had spent so many years preparing myself for the next insult that I had begun treating silence as progress.
By early afternoon, more relatives arrived.
The house became crowded.
People came in carrying desserts, bottles of drinks, and containers of food.
The living room filled with conversation.
Someone turned on the television.
Children moved between the upstairs bedrooms and the family room.
Dad brought extra chairs out of the den.
The dining room table was no longer enough.
He unfolded the extra table and positioned it near the fireplace.
Mom began arranging plates.
I helped her place napkins.
There were seventeen other relatives besides Danielle, Eli, and me.
Including my parents and Lucy, the room was full of people who knew exactly how our family worked.
Some knew about the old arguments.
Some had probably heard Danielle's version.
Others were simply there for dinner.
I didn't think anything terrible would happen.
Not after Mom's promise.
Not after the conversation with Dad.
Not after everything I had tried to do to keep the day peaceful.
Eli and Lucy were sitting together before dinner.
They had brought their game downstairs.
The red pieces were scattered across the carpet.
Lucy was explaining a new rule.
Eli listened carefully.
I watched them from the doorway.
For a moment, I felt relieved.
Then Mom called everyone to the table.
I picked up the serving dish.
And we all sat down.
Click here to continue reading: PART 4: Seventeen Relatives Heard My Sister Say What She Really Thought of My Son, and I Finally Stopped Protecting Her
I Kept Bringing My Son to a House Where His Own Aunt Made Him Feel Like He Didn’t Belong
Part 3 of 20
