Their Thanksgiving the next day was perfect, thanks to Simon, who prepared a delicious meal. He made chestnut stuffing, cooked the turkey to a flawless golden brown, and made tiny vegetables. And his pies were an impeccable end to the meal. He had pecan pie, pumpkin, and the apple pie they had sampled on Wednesday night. And he and Blaise watched football in the afternoon, and screamed every time their team made a touchdown. She was an ardent fan, which amused him. And after dinner, he played the piano and Salima sang, and at the end, they all joined in. They all agreed that it was the best Thanksgiving they’d had in years.
“My mother has always been very dismissive about Thanksgiving,” he said to Blaise when they cleaned up. She had set a lovely table in the dining room they rarely used, with her best crystal and china, and a lace tablecloth that had been her mother’s from her trousseau. She only brought it out for holidays and special events.
“Thanksgiving isn’t important to her because she’s French. So she condescends to celebrate it every year, but she always got creative with the food. She doesn’t like turkey. So we had ortolans one year, tiny little birds you serve with the heads, and the eyes looking at you. My brother and I hated them. So she served lobster the next year. I think it’s her rebellious spirit. I don’t think I had a turkey for Thanksgiving until I was at college and went home with a friend, and they had a ‘real’ Thanksgiving, instead of the crazy ones my mother dreamed up. One year she served trout,” he said, reminiscing as they did the dishes, and Blaise laughed as he rolled his eyes. “You’ll see when you meet her. She’s one of a kind.”
“Our Thanksgivings were very traditional,” Blaise remembered. “My father always brought the turkey home from the butcher shop where he worked. It was always the best one, and way too big for our family of three. We ate turkey everything for a week.” She smiled, thinking about it. Once in a while she missed her parents—they had been dead for almost thirty years. Her life as it had evolved and was now would have been completely foreign to them. But she thought they would have been proud of her.
They sat in the living room and talked for a long time that night. Simon didn’t feel like an employee anymore. He felt like a friend, or a guest. And anytime they got together, they seemed to talk for hours. It was midnight when they said goodnight and went to bed. And Blaise was up early the next day. She was already in the kitchen, drinking coffee, when Simon got up. He always came to the kitchen dressed, even when he looked half asleep. He was respectful of her home. She had never seen him in pajamas or a bathrobe, even when she ran into him in the kitchen late at night. With Simon there, the kitchen had turned out to be the hub of the house. He was always cooking something, working on his computer, or Salima was hanging out. She enjoyed talking to Simon for hours too.
He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down, looking worried, and she could see that something was wrong. She wondered if it was Megan, but it wasn’t. “I wonder if I made a mistake inviting my parents. They can be so nuts. And if they’re having a bad day, you’ll hate them. I do regularly. I was always afraid to introduce them to my friends, for fear of what they’d do or say. And they haven’t improved with age. If anything, they’re worse, and think that age gives them the right to do and say anything they want, especially my mother. And now I’m nervous introducing them to you. I feel like a kid again. I called my father and told him yesterday, and he thinks I’m nuts. Maybe I am.”
“Don’t worry about it. They sound like fun. And parents are never embarrassing if they’re someone else’s. They’re not mine, so I’m sure I’ll enjoy them. Hell, look at the people I’ve interviewed in my life. Do you think they were all normal and polite? Some of them were really rude. A couple of them threatened to hit me. Some Mafioso pulled a gun on me once when he thought I had insulted his wife and insinuated she had an affair. I didn’t. I said he did. But whatever your parents do, it will be nothing compared to the people I’ve met. In fact, I can hardly wait.”