Steel, Danielle: The House On Hope Street

“It’s okay, Rachel, I’m not on call today,” he said with a warm smile, but she didn’t respond, and he went on talking to Jamie. Bill was certainly not drunk, but he’d had three glasses of wine by then and seemed comfortable and happy. He’d been talking to Jamie about football.

“Dad hated football.” Megan added insult to injury, she was goading him, and they all knew it.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Meg. It’s a great sport. I used to play in college.”

“Dad said only morons and brutes play football,” she said then, stepping over the line, and her mother was quick to stop her.

“Megan, that’s enough!”

“Yes, it is, Mom!” She threw down her napkin and stood up with tears in her eyes. “Why does he have to be here with us? He’s not our father, he’s just your boyfriend.”

The other children looked stunned, and Liz was shaking as she answered. “Bill’s our friend, and it’s Thanksgiving. That’s what Thanksgiving is about, friends joined around a table to give thanks, and to join hands in friendship.”

“Is that what you do with him? ‘Join hands’? I’ll bet you do a lot more than that, and I’ll bet Daddy hates you for it,” she said, and then ran up the stairs to her room and slammed the door, as Peter leaned over and apologized for her. But one by one, Rachel and Annie left the table too, as Jamie helped himself to a slice of apple pie while no one was looking. It looked too good to waste, and no one else could think about eating.

“So much for family holidays,” Bill said with a grim look, as Liz looked at him in devastation. She realized now that she had been ambitious in inviting him, and including him in the family wasn’t going to be as easy as he had hoped. In fact, she understood all too well now, it was going to be a nightmare.

“I’ll go up and talk to her,” Peter said, looking embarrassed for all of them, and then to Bill, “I’m sorry about my sisters.”

“Don’t worry about it. I understand.” But in fact, he didn’t. He was looking tense and grim when he glanced at Liz, dabbing at her eyes with her napkin.

“I guess this is harder for them than I thought.”

“It wasn’t exactly a picnic for me either, Liz,” he said bluntly. “The role of intruder isn’t one I wear very well, I’m afraid. They act like I’m an ax murderer, or as if I killed their father.” His ego was bruised, and his feelings had taken a beating at her children’s hands, and he had no one to take it out on but her. Everyone was angry at her. Bill, and three of her children. Only Jamie looked unconcerned as he kept on eating. There was no one else left at the table.

“You have to understand how hard this is for them. It’s their first Thanksgiving without their father.”

“I know that, Liz. But that’s not my fault.” He raised his voice to her as he said it, and Jamie looked at him in consternation.

“No one said it was, but you’re here and he’s not. This is all my fault. I probably shouldn’t have asked you,” Liz said, still crying, as Jamie watched them in silence.

“And what about next year? I’ll make sure to sign up for a seventy-two-hour stretch at the hospital over Thanksgiving. It’s obvious I won’t be welcome here, at least not till your kids leave home.” He was overwhelmed by his own anger.

“Are you coming for Thanksgiving next year?” Jamie asked with interest.

“I was planning to, but now I’m not so sure,” he snapped at the child and then hated himself for it. He reached out and touched Jamie’s hand, and lowered his voice again so he didn’t scare him. “I’m sorry … I’m just upset.”

“Megan was rude to Mom,” Jamie said matter-of-factly. “And so was Annie. Don’t they like you?” He looked sad for his friend, and Liz saw Bill’s jaw tense when he answered.

“I guess not. I guess that’s the crux of it, isn’t it?” He directed his question at Liz, who wanted desperately to reassure him. “I guess I’m persona non grata here, and I’m kidding myself if I think it’s ever going to be any different. As Megan said so succinctly at the beginning of the meal, I’m not their father, and I never will be.”

“No one’s expecting you to be,” Liz said in the calmest voice she could muster. “All you have to be is their friend. No one’s expecting you to fill Jack’s shoes,” she said softly, fighting back her own tears, as he glowered at her.

“Maybe I am, Liz. Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I was deluding myself that I could be important to you, and to them, instead of just an interloper, always playing second best to him. What was it Megan said, ‘a brute and a moron’?”

“She was just trying to provoke you.” Her loyalty was to her children, but to him too. It was a ghastly situation for her.

“Well, she succeeded very nicely. In fact,” he stood up and put his napkin down on the table, “I think I’ll give you all some relief, and myself. I think it’s time for me to go back to work.”

“I thought you weren’t working today,” she said, looking confused and upset. He had told her he was off for the holiday, which was how it had all started.

“I think I’ll go back anyway. At least I know what I’m doing there. I think family scenes, particularly on holidays, aren’t my strong suit.” In truth, he had done fine, but the deck had been stacked against him, and he knew it. It had been a no-win situation right from the beginning. He looked at Liz from where he stood, and neither of them moved, but she knew that something terrible was happening, and they were both afraid to say it. “Thanks for dinner, Liz. I’ll call you.” And without another word, he walked out the front door and slammed it behind him, as she sat staring at it.

Jamie looked up at her then, having finished his pie, and commented on the situation. “He forgot to say goodbye to me. Is he mad at me?”

“No, sweetheart. He’s mad at me. Your sisters were very rude to him.”

“Are you going to spank them?” She smiled at the question. She never had, and she wasn’t planning to start now at their age, but the suggestion was certainly tempting.

“No, but someone should.”

“Santa Claus is going to put coal in their stockings,” Jamie said with a solemn look, and Liz smiled sadly. Just thinking about Christmas made her shudder. It was the anniversary of Jack’s death, and she realized that under no circumstances could she include Bill in what they were doing. The Thanksgiving they had just experienced had taught her a painful lesson.

She and Jamie cleared the rest of the table then, and afterwards she went upstairs to talk to her daughters. Peter was sitting with all of them, and it was obvious that Megan had been crying.

“I hate him!” She spat at her mother, but Liz managed to stay calm in spite of the havoc she had caused. She knew what was behind it.

“I don’t think you do, Meg. What’s to hate? He’s a nice man, even if he did play football in college. What you hate is the fact that your father’s gone. So do I. But there’s nothing we can do about it. And it’s not Bill’s fault. I shouldn’t have invited him to join us today, and I’m sorry.”

Peter touched her arm with a gentle smile. He admired her so much, she was always straight with them, and he knew how much she loved them. She had been there for him in every possible way after his accident that summer. And he was sorry for her that their Thanksgiving had been such a disaster, and that Bill had been Megan’s scapegoat. Like Liz, he understood perfectly why it had happened. Better than Bill did. In his opinion, Bill had overreacted, and he said as much to his mother when he walked her back to her own room.

“I’m not sure I blame him. The kids hit pretty hard, and he’s not used to that. He doesn’t have kids, he hasn’t been married in a long time. I think his feelings were hurt. He feels like he can’t measure up to your father.”