Malena Lott - Dating da Vinci

“Have you considered that he might be dating a very nice person? Mature, even?”

“Please. I'm not an idiot. I'm going to go take two Tylenol and see if I can sleep for a few hours before dinner. Sorry I can't help.”

I had slumped over and considered calling the whole thing off when the doorbell rang. The Evangamoms had arrived early, as usual, and I didn't even feel guilty that the house was still a mess. My mothers would go into turbo-drive and have the whole place in tip-top shape before the dinner bell clanged.

“Aren't you a sight for sore eyes,” my mother said as she gave me the up-down, pleased at my selection of a warm gold dress. My father kissed me hello and handed me a bouquet of fall flowers for the table. Judith air-kissed me and breathed, “Oh, my,” upon seeing the scattered toys and general clutter in the house. The boys had cleaned up without my even asking, another sign that something strange was going on, but I had to give my mothers something to do, so I tossed a few balls and robots and action figures around the place for good measure.

“Barb, it's time to roll up our sleeves.”

“When isn't it, dear?”

“What would she ever do without us?”

And I'd actually wondered that myself, but my mothers needed to be needed, so I couldn't get well too quickly.

Two hours later, the house was clean, the table set, and the food ready to be gobbled up, minus a couple of key figures. After a half-hour of trying, my mother coaxed Rachel out of my bed, into the shower, and down to the table, hair wet and sans makeup. A very pregnant Zoya arrived wearing a sexy, red fitted dress with a plunging neckline that revealed most of her swollen bosom, and Donald couldn't keep his eyes off of it. It took all of my dad's strength not to stare, too.

I asked William to fetch da Vinci for dinner, but he returned with a red face wet with tears, fogging up his glasses. The rest of us were already seated at the table, including Joel's framed photo on his plate in his usual seat-Judith's idea. We did it every Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter. I'm not sure what Joel thought of his symbolic inclusion, but I could feel his energy making a sarcastic remark about it.

“What in Heavens?” my mother said, scooting her chair back.

“Thanksgiving isn't an Italian holiday,” Judith said, as if that explained everything.

William glared at me. “It's all your fault!” He pointed an accusing finger. “Da Vinci's not coming to dinner because of you!”

“This is juicy,” Rachel said, taking a gulp of her wine. “Do tell.”

Williams' tiny shoulders shook. “All we wanted was for you to be happy again, and you had to go and ruin it! Tell him you're sorry!”

I hugged my son, but he wriggled away. “Honey, I'm sorry. It's a grown-up thing.”

“Tell me what we can do to make you love da Vinci.” He looked at his older brother, who was slumped in his seat. “It didn't work, Bradley.”

“What do you mean, sweetie? Bradley, what's he talking about?”

Bradley mumbled. “It was William's idea. To get da Vinci to fall in love with you.”

The dinner guests moaned an “awww,” and I could feel my hair stand on end.

“ What? ” I looked at both boys and saw the shame on their faces. “Tell me exactly what you did.”

William continued to cry. “I told da Vinci that you liked him and that he should take you to the vineyard. And then I told him he should tell you he loved you, and I moved his things into Daddy's closet.”

“You what?” Judith asked.

“You what? ” I asked, gripping his little arm. “Why would you do all that?”

“We could tell that when he was around, you weren't so sad anymore, so we thought if you fell in love and married him that we could have a whole family again.”

“Honey, da Vinci and I do care for each other. I still like him, but we're not going to get married.”

“But you're pinned now!” He stomped his foot.

“You're what? ” Rachel asked. “As in, fraternity pin?”

“That's absurd,” Judith said, with a laugh.

I shot them all a warning glance to stay out of it. “So the pin was your idea, too?”

Bradley pointed to his brother, and William bobbed his head. “I thought you would think it was romantic. A pin is a promise.”

Judith and Barbara had tears in their eyes. “Come here, you.” I opened my arms, and William walked into them. “And you, too, bud,” I said to Bradley, and he joined us. I was too amazed at their compassion to be mad at them. “Even though da Vinci won't be around here as much anymore, he still wants to be your friends, okay?”

“But will you still be happy?” William asked.

“Yes, baby. Mommy is getting happier by the day. Don't I look happy?” I flashed him a big and surprisingly genuine smile. The world was a big, messed-up place, but I was happy. My joy jar was filling up with each passing hour.

William's tiny shoulders lifted. “I guess so. But I can see Oprah's point about the makeup.”

My moms laughed. “Well, she is one smart cookie.”

Judith took another sip of wine. “I propose a toast, then. To makeup and joy, however we find it,” she said.

“I'll toast to the joy part,” my father said.

Rachel reluctantly joined in. We toasted and I drank the wine, relishing the plum aftertaste, remembering that da Vinci had picked out the bottle at the vineyard, saying we should drink it on a special occasion. I had so much to be thankful for, including the awakening brought on by his arrival into my classroom and my life.

My father stood to cut the turkey. “Let's eat this bird before he catches a cold.”

I kissed my sons on the cheek. After we had begun eating, the clank of silverware and china, a familiar symphony of family togetherness, was when the doorbell rang again. I tried not to think about the ramifications of my son's confession. What did it matter now? If da Vinci had been nudged along by tiny cupids, he hadn't gone kicking and screaming. He was a willing partner. Did I mind that he may have said a few things or done a few things in the name of keeping me on the hook a while longer? It wasn't as if he used me, exactly. In fact, I had used him just as much. We had leaned on each other, propped each other up, fledglings now ready to fly on our own.

The doorbell rang again, and I excused myself to answer it. Cortland stood on the porch with a pumpkin pie in his hands. I stepped outside and shut the door behind me.

“It's my mom's. It's not homemade, but don't tell your mother. She's got a rep to keep.”

“I'm sure it's delicious. But now's not a good time. Rachel's upset and da Vinci won't come for dinner and William's mad at me.”

“What would Thanksgiving be without a little dysfunction? At least your Uncle Louie didn't throw up on the new Persian rug.”

Cortland had a way of putting everything in perspective.

“Well, I can just come back later, then.”

Barbara came up behind me. “What's taking so long? Cortland! I'm so glad you could make it. Do come in.”

“Mom, I was just telling him that we got a late start.”

“Oh, we've got room.” She led him by the hand, and when Cortland saw Joel's picture on the plate at the only empty seat, he backed away. “I'll just go grab a chair from the kitchen.”

I held my breath. The crowd looked at me and then Judith, who stood and plucked the frame from the plate. “It's fine, darling. Joel wouldn't mind. In fact, I'm quite sure he would've liked you. Don't you agree, Ramona?”

Cortland held my gaze. I nodded, and he took Joel's seat. Rachel stuck her nose up in the air. I considered pulling my mother aside to tell her Rachel and Cortland had broken up, but thought it might make an even bigger scene.