She ran her hands along the dining table. Her mother’s. A beautiful Mission style with two extra leaves she’d had restained after Adam moved out, when she repainted and rearranged and reupholstered what she could. She couldn’t get rid of this table, but she could change it, make it unrecognizable. That was what she’d done with everything from that time, physical and intangible: removed it, scrubbed it clean, pushed it far away from herself so it was as if it had happened to another person.
This old table. The place of that last dinner—the Last Supper, ha. A night so ridiculously dramatic that if such a script had shown up in playwriting workshop, she’d have shredded it for its overwrought screeching, its utter over-the-topness. She’d have asked, Do we believe these people? Do we believe this situation? She’d have counseled restraint, razoring the dialogue, slicing away sentimentality to reach sentiment. Perhaps that’s why the moment always returned to her as a play, something she could watch from a distance—something she could critique instead of relive. Something she could rewrite, retell, redo. But of course, she couldn’t change a thing.
She rubbed the table. She rubbed and rubbed.
The Last Thanksgiving
A Play in One Act
Setting
1991. Dining table that seats eight.
Characters
Adam Newell, 44
Rachel Fischer-Newell, 42
Dani Newell, 17
Iris Overton, 42
Paul Overton, 17
Jess Winters, 17
Maud Winters, 39
Act 1, Scene 1
Lights up on dining table. Behind it, sliding glass doors overlooking backyard. Carved turkey in center of table. Kitchen stage right, piled high with dishes. Pies cooling on sideboard stage left. Silverware clinks against china. ALL eating hungrily except PAUL, who toys with his food and watches JESS across from him. ADAM is at one end of table, RACHEL at the other.
MAUD: Delicious, Rachel.
ALL (speaking over each other): Yes, thank you, wonderful, delicious, I’m so full!
ADAM: Yes, lovely, honey.
(PAUL drops fork on plate with loud sigh.) RACHEL: Thank you. There’s plenty. Please.
DANI: God, I can’t move. I’m going to die, I’m so stuffed.
JESS (holding stomach): Me, too. So full.
PAUL (picking up fork and tilting it at JESS): Full of it.
IRIS: Paul.
JESS: What’s your problem?
PAUL: No problem.
JESS: You’ve been saying shit under your breath to me all day.
MAUD: Jess. Language.
DANI: Paul, what’s going on?
JESS: I don’t know what I did.
PAUL (laughing): You don’t know what you did. (Leans across table.) How about you, Adam? Do you know what she did? Do you have any idea?
(ADAM sets down fork and wipes mouth with napkin. Takes drink of water.) IRIS: Paul, for Pete’s sake.
RACHEL: I’m lost. What’s happening here?
DANI: Paul?
(PAUL stands up, leans over table, and grabs a roll from a basket. He remains standing and tears roll in half, squeezing it and then dropping it on his plate. He looks at ceiling.) PAUL: Adam, how’s it going up there in your studio? Did you get a lot of painting done last night after Rachel went to bed?
IRIS (tugging on PAUL’s shirt): Sit down. What are you doing?
ADAM: Some, yes.
PAUL: Some. (Laughs.)
ADAM (folding hands on table): Please don’t do this, son.
PAUL: I am not your son.
DANI: What is going on?
(JESS pushes back chair and stands, flapping her hands. MAUD sees this and stands, too. Her chair tips over, and she scrambles to pick it up.)
JESS: Paul, can I talk to you outside?
PAUL: Outside. Yes, you do like it outside, don’t you?
RACHEL: Can someone please tell me what is going on here?
MAUD: I don’t think she’s well. (Walks around table to JESS.) We should get going. Let’s get on home. Get your coat. Thank you for dinner, Rachel.
JESS: I need to talk to Paul first.
PAUL (still standing): Nope. I’m fine right here.
IRIS: Sit down, Paul. What in the world’s the matter with you?
(Adam stands, too, looking at JESS.)
ADAM: It’s okay.
RACHEL: Everyone should sit. Sit down, please. I’ll make some coffee.
DANI: No one wants coffee, Mom. Jesus. (To PAUL) Just say it. Tell me.
JESS: No. It’s over. It’s over.
MAUD (pulling on JESS’s arm): Get your coat. Now. We’re leaving now.
(PAUL picks up a butter knife and points it at ADAM.) PAUL: Are you going to tell them, or am I?
ADAM: Please. Not like this.
PAUL: Like what? You mean like this?
(PAUL throws butter knife against wall. He turns around, grabs a pie, and turns it upside down, shaking it over tablecloth.) IRIS (grabbing PAUL’s arm): What the hell are you doing?
MAUD: Now, Jess. Let’s go.
PAUL: Him (points at ADAM) and her (points at JESS). See? Get it? Your husband (points at RACHEL) and your father (points at DANI) is sneaking around the orchard in the middle of the night confessing his undying love to your daughter (points at MAUD). To your best friend (points at DANI). Kissing her against trees. That is the matter. Are we all clear now? Is everybody clear now about what the matter is?
(PAUL sits, slumping in chair. ADAM stands frozen. MAUD pulls on JESS, who is crying now.) JESS (to DANI): Nothing happened. I swear it.
(DANI scoots chair away from table, puts forehead on tablecloth, and retches onto carpet. RACHEL stays seated, looking at ruined pie.)
RACHEL: That was a beautiful pie. I was really proud of that pie. Lattice crust. (To ADAM) Is this true?
ADAM: Not exactly.
PAUL: You fucking liar. I saw you.
ADAM (to JESS): Go home now. It’s okay. This is mine to do.
(MAUD lets go of JESS and runs at ADAM. She pushes him, and he stumbles.) MAUD: You don’t tell her where to go. Who do you think you are? She’s mine. Don’t talk to her. Don’t even look at her.
RACHEL (To MAUD): Please get your daughter out of my house.
ADAM (pulling himself upright, straightening his collar): It’s true. I fell in love with her.
JESS: Wait. No, please—
RACHEL (laughing): You fell in love. Isn’t that sweet. Isn’t that a fairy tale.
ADAM: I’m sorry. It’s not what you think.
RACHEL: You sick, pathetic man. She could be your daughter.
JESS: I’m not his daughter.
DANI: I’m his daughter.
RACHEL (slowly): Get out of my house.
IRIS: Let’s go, Paul.
PAUL: Dani? (Touches her back.) Come on. Let’s go. Let’s get out of here.
(DANI stands up, wipes her eyes and mouth.) DANI (to PAUL): Don’t touch me.
JESS: Dani, please, wait. It’s not what you think.
DANI: What I think. (Laughs.) My father loves you? Are you, I mean, are you kidding me? What am I supposed to do with that?
ADAM: Dani, please. Listen.
JESS: I didn’t do anything. You have to believe me.
DANI: Well, I don’t. I don’t believe you.
(DANI exits.)
IRIS: Dani, wait.
RACHEL: Oh, shut up, Iris. Let her go. All of you, get the hell out of my house. Dinner’s over. It’s all over.
(MAUD grabs a red coat off rack and pulls JESS out door. IRIS and PAUL shuffle out behind them. ADAM sits next to RACHEL.) ADAM: I wasn’t looking for this. I wasn’t looking at all.
RACHEL: Is that supposed to make it okay? She’s seventeen years old.
ADAM: Nothing happened.
RACHEL: What does that mean, nothing happened? Clearly something happened. Clearly.
ADAM: I didn’t touch her. Not like that.
RACHEL: Like that. Like what? Like you didn’t fuck her? You didn’t stick your dick in a seventeen-year-old girl? You didn’t lick her little teenage cunt?