Chapter 17: Jenny

Claire said that it was okay to invite Tracey over for Thanksgiving dinner. Tracey’s parents were both working tonight, so they were happy she was coming over to us for today. I was setting up the table with Claire when the doorbell rang. The boys were in their rooms. They tended to do that whenever it came to preparing the table, apart from Prent who would be in the kitchen cooking. But not tonight. Tonight, was my night. I said that I wanted to make dinner, especially seeing as it was Thanksgiving. He hesitated at first, but then he let me get to it.

I decided to opt for something simple, and besides, Tracey helped. I was told they weren’t in the mood for having the traditional turkey, and seeing as this was a different type of year, they wanted to do something special.

Shit, she was a natural in the kitchen. She reminded me of Prent compared to how I hesitated and looked at the recipe for the meatloaf, wondering if Martha Stewart’s was the best recipe to follow.

“I just hope they like it.” I sighed, wondering if I’d bought the right type of ground beef. I ignored my insecurities and started to combine the beef, egg, onion, milk and bread. Even the breadcrumbs, which I wanted to buy, but Tracey insisted we made from scratch which felt impossible at the time. Taking it out of the oven, I was in awe.

Tracey smiled and said, “They’re going to love it. Table’s all set. But maybe we need to set another plate?”

I moved the meatloaf from the oven to the side, making sure that I didn’t drop it. I was so damn nervous. I’d never cooked for anyone, let alone a whole family before.

Tracey had done the mashed potatoes with her grandma’s recipe, which consisted of butter and a bit of parsley. I didn’t see what was so special about it, but she had some herbs and refused to tell me what they were. I could tell by the way she sneezed as she added them, that they were a little peppery. I swear, everything she eats has pepper in it. I’d been to her house a couple of times, and everything always made my throat dry and made me drink milk with my meal, something I’d never done before.

Claire cleared her throat, surprising me, as I didn’t even hear her come in the kitchen.

“Mom!” I said, turning with my mouth wide open. My apron, which I was just about to take off, was half-way around my body, and my arms flopped to the side.

She wasn’t in her usual designer gear. If anything, she looked more natural. No more was her hair bleached or dyed. She wore no make-up and was in a shirt and jeans, something I never knew she possessed. She’d obviously had to change. Then again, we all had to after Dad had been arrested.

“I asked your mom to come to dinner. Seeing as it’s Thanksgiving. I thought it would be nice for us all to sit down together. No one should be alone during the holidays.”

I stood, unable to speak or move, a lump stuck in my throat. Three long months since I heard from or even spoken to her, and here she was in the kitchen as if nothing had happened. She broke the silence, and both Tracey and Claire walked away.

“I spoke to Claire a couple of weeks ago. She told me to settle down and then I should get in contact.”

I didn’t nod my head or move. Weeks? The tear which escaped my eye dropped uncontrollably before my other eye followed suit.

She left me at the table—no home, no clothes and nowhere to stay—and she’d only been in touch with Claire a couple of weeks ago?

“I was a mess when your father was arrested and…”

I spat out, “So was I! Your daughter. No clue what was going on, but I was sure you had an inkling of what might happen, and you just left me that day. No hesitation. You ran out of there as if the place was on fire. Then after that, you didn’t even come back. Auntie said she would call. She never did, and as for Uncle…”

She said, “Well, he’s your father’s brother. What did you expect?”

I shook my head. “I expected him to be concerned that his niece was out on the street.”

She waved her hand, the way she did whenever something was said that she didn’t like. I wasn’t about to let her sweep this under the rug, not by a long shot.

“That’s in the past,” she said as she drew nearer. “I want us to start again. I made a mistake. I mean, I’m only human. Besides, haven’t you been living with three hunks. You should see where I’m staying. Your aunt has been generous and all that, but we all know she’s not the best housekeeper.”

I chuckled. “And you are?”

She shook her head. “I knew this would be difficult, but I at least thought you would be happy to see me. I mean, I’m your mother and it’s the holidays. Wouldn’t you prefer to spend it with your mom, not Claire?”

She took my hand, and I snatched it back. “You left me on the street, and a total stranger took me in. She bought me clothes, a phone, gave me a place to stay… A lot more than you did.”

Maybe it was harsh, maybe, but I was so rattled up right now, I couldn’t get over how I was feeling. Lost. Confused.

“Russell has been helping your father, and it seems that maybe all charges will be dropped, and if so then we could go back to the way things were. The way they were before all this mess started. I made a mistake. One day when you’re a mother, you will understand it is not an easy job.”

She was stroking my face. Something my mom had never done before in her life. Maybe she’d done it when I was young, but she wasn’t Claire, not by a long shot. I’d seen the way Trent, Prent, and Brent would go up to their mom for no reason and kiss her on the cheek or hug her. I remembered at times feeling jealous about them having that type of relationship, wishing I could remember one time in my life when my mom had showed me that type of affection and drawing a complete blank.

She rambled on nervously. “And maybe you and Kurt could get back to the way you were before. Get married. Have a couple of kids and we can all put this nightmare behind us.” Her final statement she said while rolling her eyes.

Before she showed up, I was happy… something I never thought was possible, not after all I’d been through. I had put on a front, but deep down inside, Kurt still got to me.

I backed away, hearing his name, and the idea of us getting married make me sick to my stomach. “Kurt. He spat on me at school.”

She nodded her head. “I know, and he’s sorry about what he did. People do stupid things when they’re scared and nervous. He said he was sorry, and once it’s all cleared, he wants this to be a thing of the past too.”

She put her arms around me, and I didn’t return the embrace because I wondered for a split second if I’d heard her correctly.

Did she say she spoke to him?

“So, you went to see Kurt before me?”

I pulled away from her, trying to stop her dark eyes hypnotizing and confusing me.

“Your father, myself and his parents. We sat down with the lawyers trying to figure out how we can all sort out this mess. We all just want this thing to go away.”

“The things they said about Dad, they’re true, aren’t they? I’m not completely naive or stupid to believe that the FBI randomly made up these charges.”

She smiled as she stroked my face once again. Maybe one time I would have found it comforting, but right now it was annoying me, and the more she did it, the more I backed away from her.

“Oh my, you really have grown up in a short space of time. Does it matter, dear? Don’t you want things to go back to the way they were?”

I couldn’t answer her as I turned my back and faced the meatloaf. I remembered what I planned to do today, and I wanted us to sit down and eat as a family, but as she said, she was my mom. I’d forgotten my original plan, and the painful truth of it all hit me.

I turned to face her and smiled, saying, “Let’s eat.”

Maybe I didn’t just have a narcissistic ex-boyfriend, but parents too. I would play their game, make out I was stupid and naive and figure out if she really was telling the truth, because as much as she was smiling and telling me that everything was going to be okay, my gut feeling was telling me not to believe her.

* * *

The food wasn’t as nice as I’d hoped it would be. In fact, it wasn’t a complete disaster. I was seated at the head of the table. Claire was opposite me. Trent and Brent on either side, and Prent and Tracey were opposite each other. Mom was squeezed at the corner of the table. It was only meant for six people. She was a guest, and I could tell by the way she shifted in her chair, she didn’t like it one little bit, which was amusing in a way.

“It wasn’t that good, was it?” I asked, as everyone smiled and ate in silence. It was clear Mom’s presence had changed the way we normally chatted during a meal.

Prent offered, “I mean, it wasn’t that bad. I ate it. The mashed potatoes, they were to die for. Shit, I wish there was more.”

“Language!” Claire shouted out and we laughed, well, everyone apart from me.

“Tracey made that, and the salad which everyone finished quickly. The only thing I made was the meatloaf. And before you say anything, Brent, Tracey made the rice too.”

“It was only white rice. No need to be so dramatic, Jenny. It was no big deal.” Claire said, after wiping her mouth with her napkin.

She pointed to Trent. “Pass me the meatloaf. I want more. All the love and time you spent on it. Seriously, you did a good job.”

I smiled at her as Trent passed the meatloaf. Before doing so, he filled his plate. Pretty soon, everyone else was doing it and laughing. The meatloaf needed a little salt and could have done with whatever herbs and spices Tracey put in the mashed potatoes, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought. It wasn’t the best in the world, but with a little black pepper and salt, I think Martha Stewart would be proud.

As everyone ate, the table turned from being a quiet one to a chatty one, the type I was used to. Tracey was going to a barbecue to help raise money for the needy, and I wasn’t sure about making a plate of something, but with her confidence, I decided I would give it a chance.

“Well, maybe when we’re in New York for Christmas, you can make the same thing for your father,” Mom blurted out casually, and the table which was once chatty again, drew to a halt.

“New York? But he’s on bail. He can’t leave the state,” Claire said as she put down her fork. Mom shifted her eyes, avoiding the question.

“We’ll be leaving in just over two weeks. Claire, it has been nice of you to look after her, but she is our daughter. She needs to go home.”

Now, it was me asking the question. “Home?”

Mom smiled, and her eyes beamed as she said it. “Yes, home. Where your parents are. That’s the place you belong.”

Since when?

Claire excused not only herself, but Mom too, so they could have a chat in private. Mom was up to something, and I could tell with the way Mom shifted her weight and then nodded in my direction, she was going to have her own way. I was the center of her attention right now, and I would be leaving with her, whether I liked it or not.