Claire LaZebnik - Knitting Under the Influence

“You've got to be kidding.”

“No, really, I was. Somewhere along the way, I got less responsible, I guess. But the twins are still cute. I don't know what that leaves me.”

“You have the biggest appetite of any girl I’ve ever seen,” Sam said. “That's something.”

“Does that mean I get more eggs?”

He stood up. “Come on. I’ll show you how to make them, so next time you'll do it yourself and let me eat in peace.”

“I don't want to learn how,” she said. “I want you to make them for me.”

“You're going to learn.” He grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet.

By the time she left his apartment, she could cook eggs three different ways. Sam said he'd teach her to do an omelet next, but added that he wasn't convinced it was within her capabilities.

Wow,” Lucy said as Sari's mother kissed her on the cheek. “You look great, Mrs. Hill.”

Lucy sounded sincere, so Sari squinted at her mother, trying to see her through someone else's eyes.

Eloise Hill was a small, pretty, well-groomed woman of fifty-nine. Her thick hair was dyed a streaky blond and cut in a neat bob, and had been for as long as Sari could remember. For Thanksgiving, she was dressed in precisely tailored khaki pants, a striped blue sweater, and a pair of dark brown loafers, all very neat and nautical. She looked, as she often did, as if she had wandered out of a Ralph Lauren family photo.

For a moment, Sari let herself believe her mother was as lovely and normal as she appeared and hugged her with real warmth. “I was so delighted when Sari called to tell us she'd be bringing you!” her mother said to Lucy over her shoulder. “It feels just like old times.” She released her daughter and stepped back. “I hope you two don't mind that I didn't cook the meal myself-I picked the whole meal up from Gelson's, right down to the stuffing and cranberries. It's a terrible cheat, I know.”

“Are you kidding?” Sari said. “We're both delighted you didn't cook.”

“Oh, you,” her mother said and pushed her arm affectionately.

Look at us, Sari thought. We're adorable. Maybe this time everything will be fine.

“Your father's watching football in the bedroom,” her mother said. “Actually, I think he fell asleep, or I know he would have come out to greet you. I’ll go tell him you're here.”

“Where's Charlie?”

“In the family room, watching one of his movies.” She turned to Lucy. “He'll be so happy to see you.” She smiled and the edges of her lips made neat little corners in her cheeks.

Sari and Kathleen went on into the family room, which hadn't changed in twenty years. Charlie sat on the faded brown leather sofa, watching TV. He was fatter than he'd been the last time Sari had seen him, fatter than he'd ever been, and he'd been pretty fat before. He didn't seem to notice when they entered the room.

“Shit,” Sari said, grabbing Lucy's arm. “Look at that.” She pointed to a pile of Balance Bars on the coffee table in front of him. There were a bunch of torn empty wrappers lying next to them. “We're about to eat Thanksgiving dinner and she goes and gives him a stack of Balance Bars. Just so he won't bother her.”

Lucy didn't say anything.

Sari sat down on the sofa next to her brother and took his hand. “Charlie?”

He glanced up. “Hi, Sari,” he said casually, as if it hadn't been over six months since they'd last seen each other.

She took his hand and squeezed it hard. He squeezed back. He didn't like to be hugged, so Sari always greeted him that way, and he always responded in kind. She was never sure whether it was an affectionate gesture on his part or just a learned response, but it felt affectionate to her.

“How've you been, mister?” she said.

“Good,” he said, still watching the TV. Star Wars was playing-the original one, with Mark Hamill.

Sari said, “Charlie. This is my friend Lucy. Do you remember her from high school?”

He shook his head.

“Please say hi to her, Charlie.”

“Hi,” he said, watching the TV.

“Hi,” Lucy said. “Nice to see you again.”

“Look at her, please,” Sari said. “Charlie, look at Lucy and shake her hand.”

Lucy extended her hand, and Charlie obligingly stuck out his own hand toward the TV set.

“No,” Sari said. “Not like that. Look at Lucy. Look at her, or I’ll turn the TV off.”

“Oh, leave him alone!” her mother said from the doorway, behind Lucy's back. Startled, Lucy dropped her hand as Eloise Hill came forward. “You know how I feel about this, Sari.” She turned to Lucy. “Sari likes to get Charlie all worked up.”

“He should know how to greet people,” Sari said.

“Stop it,” her mother said. “I want you to stop it now. It's not going to be like this, not this time. It's Thanksgiving. We are not going to ruin it by fighting.”

“Who's fighting?” Sari said. “I’m just trying to help him.”

“You're not trying to help him, you're trying to change him. Let him be himself. He is what he is. Why can't you accept that?”

“Because he could be better than this,” Sari said. “I’ve seen so many kids turn around, Mom. Adults, too. What Ellen does is amazing-”

Her mother made a noise of disgust. “Here we go again, with the amazing Ellen.”

“Please let me take him to see her. Please. I’m begging you.”

“He doesn't like to leave the house. It makes him nervous.”

“That's a reason to get him out more. Take him to do fun things, so he-”

“There was a time,” her mother said, “when you begged me to keep him at home all day long. When you said he shouldn't have to go to school, that he was better off at home, that you were better off with him at home. Or don't you remember?”

“I remember,” Sari said. “I was just a kid.”

“You said the other students were mean to him at school, even violent sometimes, and he needed to be somewhere safe. You begged me to send him to private school-remember? And when I said we couldn't afford it, you said, ‘Can't we just keep him at home then?’”

“I didn't know anything,” Sari said. “I know more now.”

“We had to send him to school then,” her mother said. “It was the law. But in a way you were right. He's always been happiest at home. I mean, look at him now. He's completely in the moment, just happy to be here.”

“That's because he doesn't know any better. You haven't let him see what else is out there, what he might be capable of. He could have friends, a job, interests outside of sitting on his ass watching movies-”

“Watch your language,” Sari's mother said, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “This is who Charlie is. And if you can't accept him the way he is, if all you can do is judge him without sympathy or kindness, then you have no right to sit there and hold his hand and claim that you love him.”

“Oh, for God's sake!” Sari flung her hand out. “Loving someone doesn't mean you leave him alone-loving someone means you want to make things better for him. It means you don't just leave him with a stack of Balance Bars and the TV turned on all day long because that's what's easy for you.”

“Oh, so now I’m a neglectful mother?” Sari's mother said. Her voice had gotten very high. “You come waltzing in here a couple times a year and accuse me of being some sort of ogre, but you know nothing about our lives. Just because you think Charlie's not a good enough brother for you-”

“Do you really think that's what I’m saying?”

“Let me tell you something: your brother is a kinder, gentler, far more spiritual being than you'll ever be-”