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Jan 18, 2024, 06:24AM

The Weight

Life has its burdens and family is there to lift you up.

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Neve opened the door and shouted “Family!” James and Travis the elderly dachshund followed. They arrived just as the food preparation ended. Jules hadn’t seen Neve in a few years and wanted a moment to just take her in and hold her. Neve didn’t enjoy long hugs, but she tolerated them from her grandpa. James took notice of Jules’ affection. He was relieved whenever he saw an older man able to resist stoic tendencies. Reva and Becca came over and joined the hug. Travis didn’t know what to do with himself. He stared up at James until James bent down and comforted him in these new environs.

“Everything smells delicious,” Neve announced. They made their way to the table.

“I can’t remember this table being so full. We might lose a plate off the side,” Jules declared, as they all took their seats around the oval. Reva had checked everything off her list: stuffing, potatoes, asparagus, turkey and a triple-berry pie. Becca had removed crescent rolls from the oven just a few minutes earlier. “Oh! The cranberry sauce!” Becca remembered. She removed the gelatinous cylinder of cranberry sauce from its can. Jules was the only one who liked it.

Reva asked if they would all hold hands. Neve tried not to groan, holding her mom’s hand on one side and James’ on the other. Becca found herself holding James’ huge hand, still stained with a bit of grease from the tire change, and the warm, wrinkled hand of Grandpa Jules on the other. Jules was sandwiched between Becca and Reva. Travis was under the table, his head resting on James’ boot.

Jules spoke first, slowly making eye contact with each of them. “I promise to keep it short,” he said. “Thank you all for making the effort to be here today. I don’t know how many Thanksgivings I’ve got left. Maybe five. Ten if I’m lucky. I’m genuinely thankful today. All the planning it took for you all to be here,” Jules added.

“I wouldn’t have missed it, Grandpa. More than five, I hope,” Becca squeezed his hand.

“Love that we’re all here, too, Dad,” Reva said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “And I’m saying 10 or 15 if we’re lucky.”

Neve found herself unexpectedly choked up. “I love you all. Missed you. At least 10, Grandpa!”

James whispered to Neve, “Should I speak?” Neve elbowed him and said, “Go ahead.”

“I’m honored to be with you all on this day of gratitude. Thank you for having me in your home, Jules. And thanks for inviting me, everyone.”

Reva put on a late-1960s playlist, mostly for Jules. As Jimi sang about castles made of sand, they dug in. Neve gave James and Becca a weed gummy. Reva worked her way through the bottle of Moscato. Jules was too busy filling his belly to notice. He sipped a glass of chardonnay.

As he speared the asparagus, it dawned on James that he was sober. He didn’t drink, and he didn’t want to be stoned. He just wanted Neve and her family to be happy. James was the rare human from a dysfunctional family that held no resentment toward the holidays. He genuinely wanted people to enjoy each other. He sensed how tense things had been for Neve, growing up with her mom and sister. How Neve would work herself up into a ball of dread and panic after a phone call with her Mom. How much Neve missed her dad, who lived somewhere in Europe now.

Becca was letting herself indulge in everything today. Her mom’s cooking was comforting. Or maybe it was the nature of a good stuffing, after a forkful of creamy cheesy potatoes and juicy turkey drumstick. The weed gummy may have taken effect.

Reva liked watching everyone eat the food she prepared. She enjoyed the crispy turkey skin and the lemony asparagus. She allowed herself one crescent roll and a small portion of stuffing.

Neve and James passed the vegetables and stuffing and rolls back and forth. James offered Travis a crescent roll and then made him a small plate of shredded turkey breast and stuffing, delivering it to the half-blind old fella under the table while Mick Jagger sang about beasts of burden.

After about an hour, everyone was ready for the couch. Becca and Neve cleared the dishes and James asked Jules if he wanted to join Travis for a short stroll. Reva fell asleep a minute after putting her feet up.

James helped Jules down the steps, carrying Travis under his arm like a football.

They ambled down the sidewalk in the late afternoon sunshine. James watched Jules’ steps. Jules was curious about James. “So, how long have you and Neve been together?”

“About a year and half,” James replied. “She’s the smartest girl I’ve ever been with. She’s a puzzle.”

Jules laughed. “Yes, she is. She’s always been internal. Like her dad. Did she tell you about her parents splitting?” Jules asked.

“Not much. Just that she was a junior in high school and he was already overseas. A war reporter, or something like that? James replied.

“Karl was in Darfur during the conflict in 2003. He was reporting from the front lines. A terrifying experience for him, no doubt. And a terrible one for the whole family,” Jules explained.

“Sounds awful for the girls, and for Reva,” James added.

“It was admirable. The courage it takes to do that work. But the way it effected Karl was… he had to kind of shut off emotion. He had medication to deal with the PTSD, but that numbed him even more. Reva had to take care of everything. Finally she gave him an ultimatum. He kept working overseas. I think he was addicted to the adrenaline,” Jules explained.

“Did you see Homeland?” James asked. “That show with Claire Danes?”

“I did. Yes, kind of like that. The terror and the fear. The way everyday life is like living on a different planet than Planet War Zone.” Jules reached his arm over James’ shoulder.

“It was an awful time when they were younger. What about your parents?” Jules asked as they turned another corner.

“Do you know where we are?” James asked, suddenly aware of how caught up they were in conversation. Jules looked up at the street sign. It was unfamiliar. “We’ve only taken rights at the end of the block, correct?” Jules asked.

James had no idea. He took out his phone. His battery was running low. He opened up the GPS. They were over a mile from the house. He texted Neve.

“Can you come and pick us up? We got turned around.”

Neve and Becca had been talking about Marisol and James, and their sleeping mother, on the opposite couch. “What? Where are you?” Neve asked.

“San Roque Park. Canon Drive,” James replied.

“Okay, there in five. He’s an old man!” Neve responded.

“Thanks, we were talking. We’re ok,” James texted back.

Neve picked them up, and was agitated her Grandpa was gone for so long. When they came back to the house, Reva woke up with a start. “Dad! How long were you gone?”

“We were just out walking, honey. No problem,” Jules shook his head.

Becca braced herself for the unnecessary commotion that was soon to follow. She texted her mom from 10 feet away, “Not now. Breathe. We’ll all talk tomorrow morning, okay? Just relax. Please.” Reva didn’t notice the text, so Becca called her Mom…from the bathroom.

Reva answered, “Why are you calling me? Aren’t you in the bathroom?”

Becca said, “Check your texts,” and hung up.

Reva read the text and walked over to the bathroom. Jules and James were now on the couch with some coffee. “How long was I asleep?” She asked Becca, speaking through the door.

“Little over an hour. As soon as you laid down,” Becca replied.

The Band’s “The Weight” played in the background. Robbie Robertson was suggesting that Fanny take a load off. Becca closed her eyes and imagined each of them and the loads they all carried. The idea that you can just take your overfilled suitcases of anxiety and fear and just dump them by the side of the bed.

Reva, Becca and Neve stayed up late talking—and not talking, avoiding those deep recesses of fear and lingering sensitivities, aspects of their lives they might never resolve. Still, they were all happy to be in the same room, feet curled up, sharing blankets draped over all three, with a bowl of popcorn between them. Jules snored away with satisfaction from his bed. James was on the guest bed, with Travis curled up beside him. He was writing a letter to his mom, about how much he missed her and how would visit her soon. As 11:59 became midnight, Neve went to bed.

Becca eased her mom’s worries, explaining that Jules had been considering the need for assistance around the house and that they’d talked a bit on the walk. That he’d probably be okay with someone coming over, but not living with him full-time.

Reva felt a wave of relief that she wouldn’t have to beg her dad to accept the help. Maybe two in-home aids, each working six hour shifts. They’d talk the next morning and make a plan.

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