{"id":479,"date":"2025-11-22T05:51:00","date_gmt":"2025-11-22T05:51:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/?page_id=479"},"modified":"2025-11-22T08:20:43","modified_gmt":"2025-11-22T08:20:43","slug":"a-family-thanksgiving","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/fiction\/a-family-thanksgiving\/","title":{"rendered":"A Family Thanksgiving"},"content":{"rendered":"

J. L. Higgs<\/span><\/p>\n

The dark clouds gathering where the sky met the highway added to Jon\u2019s uneasiness. It had been ten months since the night of the January blizzard, and this would be the first time he\u2019d returned to his parents\u2019 home. His parents, his brother Mike, and his youngest sister, Ava, would be there for Thanksgiving, but not Lily, Mike\u2019s Irish Twin. Shortly after graduating high school, she\u2019d escaped with the few items she owned in a battered backpack.<\/span><\/p>\n

When Ava called, inviting him to Thanksgiving dinner, Jon\u2019s initial response was silence. He couldn\u2019t help but wonder if somewhere in his subconscious mind, he\u2019d willed what had happened that January night.<\/span><\/p>\n

Sensing his hesitancy on the phone, Ava quickly said, \u201cNo one blames you. You did the best you could under the circumstances.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI know,\u201d he said without conviction, despite having revisited the decisions he\u2019d made countless times.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSaint Ava,\u201d as her brothers and sister called her, had always been the dutiful and <\/span>compliant daughter. Following the accident, she\u2019d put her life on hold, sacrificing her freedom, and returned home to be their father\u2019s primary caregiver.<\/span><\/p>\n

As the distance to the ever-darkening clouds decreased, Jon switched on his truck\u2019s headlights. He struggled to conjure up an image of the old man, paralyzed and unable to communicate. Growing up, his father\u2019s priority had been \u201cmaking his boys real men.\u201d In his own youth, he\u2019d won a couple of local boxing competitions, and been a champion swimmer. In fact, the only time Jon could recall his father seeming proud of him was when he passed the various tests required to get his certification as a lifeguard, something he\u2019d expressed a desire to be from the time he was a small boy.<\/span><\/p>\n

Unlike with the boys, his father showed no interest in the girls beyond demanding they respect his \u201cauthority\u201d and not give him any lip. When the siblings were young, Lily had parroted their father\u2019s views and opinions with their mother\u2019s approval. But upon entering high school, she began thinking for herself and became the family rebel. She constantly challenged their father\u2019s opinions, especially about the \u201cproper roles\u201d for girls versus boys. This resulted in his lingering anger over his frustrating, menial job and financial shortcomings boiling to the surface. And though he never laid a hand on Lily or Ava, the same was not true of the boys.<\/span><\/p>\n

***<\/span><\/p>\n

Like all families, everyone in Jon\u2019s had an unofficially assigned role. So, being the oldest, Lucy had called him the night of the blizzard. He immediately knew his mother had been drinking and wasn\u2019t surprised his parents had argued over something trivial, and his father had roared off on the snowmobile. After patiently assuring her the old man would return when he was ready, she started one of her drunken crying jags. Between sobs, she croaked out that he\u2019d been gone for over an hour. Then the sobbing abruptly ended, and in a voice as cold as steel, she demanded he come and look for his father.<\/span><\/p>\n

In his cold truck, Jon turned the ignition key while gripping the steering wheel <\/span>tight enough to shatter it had it been glass. The snowflakes reflecting light from the clouds made the nighttime bright, but the wind-driven snow was falling sideways, creating whiteout conditions. To keep the windshield from fogging and the wiper blades from icing, Jon turned the window defroster and the heat to maximum.<\/span><\/p>\n

At times, the four-wheel drive\u2019s tires spun almost helplessly, fighting to maintain traction in the deepening snow. Because of the treacherous conditions, the drive that would\u2019ve taken 50 minutes took two nerve-wracking hours.<\/span><\/p>\n

When Jon finally arrived, he saw that the overhead light in the kitchen was on. So he parked and went into the house.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHey, Momma,\u201d he said, seeing his mother at the kitchen table in her nightgown, bathrobe, and slippers.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat took you so long? Where have you been?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe roads are bad. I got here as fast as I could.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHumph! You want coffee?\u201d She picked up the mug on the table, took a sip, and then gestured toward the pot on the stove.<\/span><\/p>\n

Bear, the stray Newfoundland that Jon and his siblings had taken in years ago, wandered in. He walked over to Jon and nudged him with his snout.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHey buddy,\u201d said Jon, bending down to pet the dog.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cInstead of playing with that dog, you should get out there and look for your father!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m goin\u2019.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Turning the kitchen doorknob, Jon opened the door. Bear was right beside him.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s pretty cold and nasty out there,\u201d he said.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOh, just take the stupid damn dog,\u201d snapped his mother.<\/span><\/p>\n

Outside, the still-falling snow had erased the snowmobile\u2019s tracks. The drifts in the roadway separating the house from the pine forest were so high that snow slipped over the tops of Jon\u2019s LL Bean boots, slid down their insides, and melted on his thick wool socks.<\/span><\/p>\n

Among the pines, the trees deflected the roaring wind, so things seemed peaceful. The snow was shallow, and the moonlight filtering through the pine needles created a bluish hatch-like pattern on the ground.<\/span><\/p>\n

When they reached the far side of the forest, Jon and Bear were swept back into the storm. Sleet had replaced the snow, and its icy projectiles pelted them unmercifully. Then Jon spotted the snowmobile, its front smashed against the trunk of a pine. About 15 yards from there, barely visible in the crusting-over snow, was a swatch of red and black plaid.<\/span><\/p>\n

Jon tried to run, but the knee-deep snow hindered his progress. Finally, when he and Bear reached the spot, he cleared away a bit of snow and stood looking down. It was the old man, and there didn\u2019t appear to be any signs of life.<\/span><\/p>\n

Returning to the house and retrieving the old man\u2019s body after the storm ended seemed a reasonable thing to do. But something made Jon squat down and give the old man a hard shove. Believing he heard a groan, Jon repeated the shove and received definitive confirmation from <\/span>beneath the snow.<\/span><\/p>\n

Jon weighed his options. Going for help wasn\u2019t practical. And given the storm and his <\/span>current location, 911 responders were unlikely to find them. Resigned to his situation, Jon hawked the mucus gathered in his throat, hurled a loogie into the nearby snow, and began digging. With Bear\u2019s help, he uncovered the old man. His eyes then searched for something to transport his father on, but he only saw snow. So, he phoned his mother, said he\u2019d found the old man, and told her to call and request an ambulance come to the house.<\/span><\/p>\n

Ignoring the hammering sleet, Jon uncurled his father from a fetal position, slipped his arms beneath his father\u2019s armpits, and lifted him so he appeared to be sitting. Then he leaned his father against him and stood up. Sliding a leg between his father\u2019s, Jon grabbed hold of one of his arms and draped it across his shoulder. Then, clasping that same arm, he stooped, shifted his father\u2019s body across both his shoulders, and threaded an arm between his father\u2019s legs.<\/span><\/p>\n

With the old man in a fireman\u2019s carry, Jon began walking. Sleet crystals struck his face, melted, and refroze on his eyebrows and eyelashes. His knees began aching, and his legs started to shake. By the midpoint of the pine forest, sweat had saturated his clothing, and it clung to his skin. As his body grew cold, pain and fatigue gripped his stiffening arms and shoulders, but he continued walking. At times, sheer exhaustion caused Jon to stop to gather himself mentally and physically. Each time, following a quick break, he struggled on, following Bear.<\/span><\/p>\n

When Bear and Jon reached the house, an ambulance was there, waiting. The EMTs strapped Jon\u2019s father to a stretcher and began checking his vitals–pulse, blood pressure, respiration, etc\u2026<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHow bad is he?\u201d asked Jon, bent over at the waist, his hands on his knees.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cCan\u2019t say \u2018til we get him to emergency,\u201d said the EMT, securing an oxygen mask on his <\/span>father, while the other EMT checked his body temperature.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNormally, an injured person shouldn\u2019t be moved before an assessment. But you probably saved his life.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

They loaded the stretcher into the rear of the ambulance, and one EMT climbed in with Jon\u2019s father. The other scrambled into the driver\u2019s seat up front. With its siren screaming and lights flashing, the ambulance sped away. Jon then turned to go back to the house and saw his mother at the kitchen window.<\/span><\/p>\n

***<\/span><\/p>\n

Jon turned his truck onto the lonesome dirt road where he\u2019d grown up, then into his parents\u2019 driveway. Mike\u2019s baby blue Impala sat half astride the driveway gravel and the hard-packed yard dirt as if poised for a quick getaway.<\/span><\/p>\n

As he exited the truck, Jon checked the sky. It looked ominous. Walking toward the house, he saw its mottled mustard yellow and brown colors had faded. In some places, the nails in the clapboards had popped, exposing the plywood sheathing underneath. A raindrop struck Jon\u2019s shoulder, then another. As a light rain began falling, he jogged toward the kitchen door.<\/span><\/p>\n

The door swung open, and there stood Mike in a red flannel shirt and jeans.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMike,\u201d said Jon, nodding as he stepped past his brother and into the house.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cJon.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The kitchen\u2019s red and white check wallpaper, coffee-stained double sink, ancient gas <\/span>stove, refrigerator, tarnished silver canisters, toaster oven, and brown plastic dish rack were all <\/span>in their familiar places. Seeing them, Jon could practically hear the old man\u2019s voice.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re the oldest\u2026 not like that, like this\u2026 now, what\u2019d you do\u2026 what the hell\u2019s wrong <\/span>with you\u2026 you stupid or what?\u201d<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

There\u2019d been that night when he was a high school senior, and his parents were arguing. Though things had never gotten physical between them, that night they seemed about to cross the line, so Jon attempted to intervene. The old man had rushed at him, screaming, \u201cSo, you think you\u2019re a man now!\u201d<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

At that moment, a lifetime of caution and fear of his father disappeared. Pure hatred and blind rage had exploded within him, and Jon had stood his ground with fists balled while the rest of the family cowered. Then Bear jumped between father and son, separating them. Incensed, the old man then slammed his fist into the wall and stomped away, leaving Jon shaking.<\/span><\/p>\n

The sound of footsteps in the hallway that led upstairs drew Jon\u2019s attention. He saw Ava coming toward the kitchen. She was wearing a denim dress with white buttons up the front. A long braid of her hair hung over her right shoulder. She\u2019d gained a few pounds since he\u2019d last seen her and wondered if Lucy had finally ceased sniping, \u201cShe\u2019s so skinny, I don\u2019t know why any man would want her.\u201d<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHey, Jon,\u201d said Ava, smiling as she entered the kitchen with Bear following her.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHey.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She hugged him. \u201cYou look nice,\u201d she said, stepping back and eyeing his white Oxford shirt, light blue cardigan, and navy blue pants.<\/span><\/p>\n

He shrugged. \u201cHow\u2019s my boy?\u201d he asked, petting Bear\u2019s long neck hair. \u201cYou <\/span>cooking?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAin\u2019t nobody else gonna,\u201d replied Ava, bending down and peering through the oven door\u2019s window. \u201cTurkey will be done soon.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou boys should go set the table,\u201d she said, checking the pots atop the stove.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhere\u2019s Momma?\u201d asked Jon.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cUpstairs,\u201d said Mike, giving Jon a familiar look he recognized.<\/span><\/p>\n

Jon shook his head and opened the silverware drawer. She was up there sneaking a drink from some bottle she\u2019d hidden. For as long as he could remember, she\u2019d been self-medicating. While growing up, he\u2019d often poured out the contents of any bottle he found around the holidays and birthdays.<\/span><\/p>\n

Silverware in hand, Jon entered the dining room. Mike was there, placing the plates and napkins on the white plastic tablecloth.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou been by recently?\u201d Jon nodded toward the downstairs bedroom door.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNot so\u2019s I can help it,\u201d said Mike, shaking his head. \u201cYou can go in.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNah, that\u2019s alright.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Jon started laying out the silverware, but stopped when he noticed Mike staring at him.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou should\u2019ve let the son of a bitch die.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMike–\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cRemember when he was gonna teach us to fight \u2018cause he didn\u2019t want no sons of his to be pussies?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

An image of Mike crying in his arms and blood everywhere flashed in Jon\u2019s mind.<\/span><\/p>\n

Maintaining a neutral expression, he recalled trying to stanch the gushing blood while repeatedly <\/span>telling Mike he\u2019d be all right.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd stomped on my foot, pinning it to the floor because I kept backing away and wouldn\u2019t throw a punch?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThat was–\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThen hooked my lead arm and kept punching me in the face until he broke my nose? Well, if it\u2019d been me she called that night, I\u2019d of let the son of a bitch die.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMike–\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd then you… you lied to the folks at the hospital when they asked how my nose got broken.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Jon sighed and shook his head. \u201cI only said what he told me to say when we were on the way to the hospital\u2026 that we\u2019d been wrestling and it had been an accident.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, well, that was one hell of a goddamn lie.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did you want me to do? I was 14. Barely two years older than you? Telling what had actually happened would\u2019ve only led to more questions. Then the four of us would\u2019ve probably been split up and placed in foster care.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe that would\u2019ve been for the best.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe, but I didn\u2019t think so at the time.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cY\u2019know, when we got home, Lily asked me what happened, and I told her. I told her the whole darn truth.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Jon stared at Mike. He\u2019d always known his brother and sister were close, but had thought no one else in the family knew what had truly happened.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m gonna get Daddy ready,\u201d said Ava, bustling into the dining room. \u201cOne of you should go, roust Momma.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWell, go on,\u201d she said, waving her hand before entering the bedroom.<\/span><\/p>\n

From behind the closed door, she then shouted that someone needed to make the gravy. The brothers exchanged a quick look, then went into the kitchen.<\/span><\/p>\n

The turkey was on a platter on the kitchen counter. Jon grabbed a cooking spoon from the utensil holder and began heating and stirring the turkey grease in the blue and white speckled roasting pan on top of the stove. Left without a choice, Mike frowned and headed down the hallway toward the stairs.<\/span><\/p>\n

From the base of the stairwell, Mike called to his mother. She appeared at the top of the stairs dressed in a black top covered in rhinestones and black slacks. Holding her head queenlike, she placed a hand on the wooden railing and began to slowly descend.<\/span><\/p>\n

A third of the way down, she stumbled and pitched forward. Mike rushed to catch her, but she grabbed the handrail with one hand, holding up the other, signaling him to stop. She then re-assumed her regal posture and continued down the stairs. Mike, shaking his head, frowned, turned away, and started back toward the kitchen.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cJon, Jon,\u201d Lucy cried out upon seeing her eldest son. Jon froze, shocked by her appearance. She\u2019d always taken pride in her looks, but the years of self-abuse were now permanently etched on her haggard face.<\/span><\/p>\n

Floating over, she wrapped her arms around him and laid her head against his chest.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMomma,\u201d he said, standing stiffly in her embrace while turning his face away, repulsed <\/span>by the smell of alcohol enveloping her.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhere\u2019s your father?\u201d she asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAva\u2019s getting him ready,\u201d he said, extracting himself from her arms as the sound of the falling rain grew louder.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOh, good,\u201d she said, glancing toward the downstairs bedroom door. She then bestowed an exaggerated smile on her sons. \u201cI don\u2019t know what I\u2019d do without your father.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Mike, carrying a carafe of red wine and a pitcher of apple cider into the dining room, rolled his eyes as he shook his head and muttered, \u201cAlways the drama queen.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI saw that, Michael. If you\u2019ve got something to say, then say it.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFine,\u201d he said, setting the carafe and pitcher on the dining table and turning to face his mother. \u201cWho\u2019s gonna look after him when Ava moves out?\u201d Mike looked at Jon beseechingly. Despite agreeing with his brother, Jon remained silent.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhy would she do that? She just came back home. Did she say something to you?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhy! What do you think\u2026 that she\u2019s gonna play nursemaid to the two of you for the rest of her life?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThis is her home!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOh, please. Give me a break.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYour sister\u2019s a godsend, an angel. Hush now,\u201d she said as the bedroom door opened. \u201cI don\u2019t want you upsetting your father.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

A strained silence fell over the room as Ava entered, pushing the old man in <\/span>his wheelchair. She steered the skeletal, diaper-wearing, slumped-over shell, tethered to the wheelchair, over to the empty chair at the head of the dining room table.<\/span><\/p>\n

The rain was now hammering the exterior of the house. Torrents ran down the <\/span>windows, preventing any view to the outside.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s with you all?\u201d asked Ava as she walked over to the wall light switch and turned on the dining room\u2019s overhead light. \u201cDidn\u2019t you all notice how dark it\u2019s gotten?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

As Lucy walked over to the dining room table, Ava and Jon went into the kitchen. Lucy placed her palms on the tabletop to steady herself and then sat down opposite the chair at the head of the table. She unfolded her napkin and placed it in her lap, then picked up the carafe and filled her wineglass.<\/span><\/p>\n

Ava and Jon began bringing in the bowls, platters, and serving utensils while Bear wandered around the table. Finally, he lay down between the dining room and the kitchen. With the Thanksgiving meal fully laid out, Mike and Jon started to take their customary seats on each side of their father\u2019s chair.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhy don\u2019t you take your father\u2019s chair, Jon?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Jon paused and looked at the mute, head-lolling person with drool hanging from his <\/span>chin. That person bore no resemblance to the man they\u2019d all once feared, and Jonn realized there was nothing left worth hating.<\/span><\/p>\n

Taking a deep breath, Jon momentarily closed his eyes, then opened them and looked directly at Lucy. \u201cI\u2019m fine right here,\u201d he said, sitting down in his usual chair, <\/span>beside the empty one that was Lily\u2019s.<\/span><\/p>\n

A frown began forming on Lucy\u2019s face, but she caught herself and plastered on a smile. \u201cSuit yourself,\u201d she said, picking up her wineglass by its stem and taking a long drink.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019d better switch, Mike,\u201d said Ava, from where she was standing behind her brother\u2019s chair.<\/span><\/p>\n

Mike slid over onto her customary seat, picked up the bowl of mashed potatoes, and began spooning some onto his plate.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBefore we say grace and eat, I think we each should say at least one thing we\u2019re thankful for.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOh, for God\u2019s sake,\u201d said Mike. He slammed the bowl of mashed potatoes down, causing a bit of gravy to slosh over the edge of its boat. \u201cWhat are you thankful for?\u201d he asked, pointing at his father. \u201cThe living dead?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou watch your mouth,\u201d snarled Lucy. \u201cYour father\u2019s as alive as you and me!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah,\u201d muttered Mike. \u201cKeep telling yourself that, Momma.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cCan\u2019t we all just try to have a nice Thanksgiving for once?\u201d said Ava, sliding their father\u2019s chair closer to make it easier to feed him.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, like a normal family,\u201d said Mike sarcastically.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cC\u2019mon, Mike–\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo one\u2019s holding a gun to your head, Michael,\u201d said Lucy, glaring at him. \u201cYou <\/span>don\u2019t have to take part. In fact, no one\u2019s forcing you to even be here.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMomma!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMike\u2026\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFuck you, Jon. And fuck her too!\u201d Mike yelled, jumping to his feet, leaning, over the table toward his mother, his fists clenched upon the tabletop. \u201cY\u2019all want to know why Lily left? She\u2019d had enough of this family\u2019s, let\u2019s all pretend everything\u2019s wonderful, bullshit!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHow would you know why Lily left?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBecause I\u2019ve talked to her!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Silence momentarily filled the room.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhen? When did you speak to her?\u201d demanded Lucy.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cA while back.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cA while back, when?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cJesus Christ, who cares\u2026 a while back. I told her about the old man\u2019s accident, <\/span>hoping she might return.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd is she?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFigures. That girl was always selfish. Instead of coming home and helping your sister with your father, she\u2019d rather stay wherever she is, doing whatever.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve got a hell of a nerve–\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMike don\u2019t–\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you do to help Ava? Huh? You\u2019re the selfish one. Holding a pity party <\/span>for yourself and drinking when you should\u2019ve been protecting us from that maniac when <\/span>we were growing up.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not fair, Michael.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFair? There\u2019s no point in even talking to you. You\u2019re drunk as usual!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI am not!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Mike looked at Jon across the table, his eyes imploring his brother to speak, but Jon remained silent.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMike, please stop,\u201d said Ava, tears gathering in her eyes. \u201cCan\u2019t we stop dwelling on the past and just move forward?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, Mike. It\u2019s Thanksgiving. Let\u2019s all try–\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cTry what? Some other version of let\u2019s pretend? Fuck all of you.\u201d Mike rammed his chair against the table and stormed from the room.<\/span><\/p>\n

Jon got to his feet as the back door slammed. He looked at Ava, who was wiping away tears, then at his mother. Staring placidly ahead, Lucy lifted her wineglass and took a drink.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll get him,\u201d said Jon, crossing the room as Bear scrambled to his feet.<\/span><\/p>\n

Jon caught up with Mike as he was about to get into his car. \u201cCome back inside,\u201d <\/span>he shouted above the sound of the hammering rain. \u201cAva\u2019s right. Everything\u2019s changed. He\u2019s just a broken, pathetic old man.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, and she\u2019s still the same old drunk who doesn\u2019t give a shit about anyone but <\/span>herself,\u201d shouted Mike as the rain pounded the car\u2019s rooftop. \u201cShe was the adult. We were <\/span>kids. She could\u2019ve stopped it… left him… done something!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not saying we should forget or even forgive, but we can\u2019t blame her for the things he did.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s as guilty as him,\u201d said Mike, blinking rain mixed with tears from his eyes and wiping his face with his hands.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re not him. Don\u2019t let anger eat you up inside like it did him.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve tried, but I\u2019m not like you, Jon. The moment I saw him, I wanted to spit in his face, knock his sorry ass out of that wheelchair, and stomp on him!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Soaked to their skin by the pummeling rain, the brothers stared at one another. Water dripped from Jon\u2019s nose and chin, and he shook his head.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ve got to move on. He\u2019ll be like that for the rest of his life. Isn\u2019t that punishment enough?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNot for me!\u201d Mike yanked the car door open, slid into the driver\u2019s seat, and slammed the door shut.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMike\u2026 Mike,\u201d yelled Jon, banging his hands against the driver\u2019s side window.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t be like him!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Mike turned away and started the car\u2019s engine. He flicked on the wipers <\/span>and threw the car into gear. The engine roared as he made a U-turn around Jon and tore out of the driveway, tossing chunks of gravel.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMike\u2026 Mike,\u201d yelled Jon, chasing after the car, his desperate pleas being swallowed by the sound of the rain, the way the ocean pulls a drowning man under.<\/span><\/p>\n

As the car\u2019s taillights disappeared from view, he stopped running. He turned back toward the house, his shoulders slumping under the heavy weight of failure. When Jon and Bear entered the kitchen, Ava awaited them hopefully. Jon shook his head.<\/span><\/p>\n

From the dining room doorway, Jon and Ava watched Lucy drain the last of the wine from her glass and set it down. \u201cI don\u2019t know what\u2019s wrong with that boy,\u201d she said, staring at the old man sitting opposite her. Picking up the carafe, she poured herself some more wine. \u201cHe\u2019s always been so damn disagreeable\u2026 just like Lily.\u201d Slowly turning her head toward the kitchen, a look of total surprise came over her face. \u201cMy God, Jon, you\u2019re <\/span>soaking wet. Ava, honey, get your brother a towel.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\nJ. L. Higgs The dark clouds gathering where the sky met the highway added to Jon\u2019s uneasiness. It had been…\n<\/div>\n
Continue reading “A Family Thanksgiving”<\/span>…<\/a><\/div>\n","protected":false},"author":83,"featured_media":0,"parent":14,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-479","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry","entry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/479","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/83"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=479"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/479\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":515,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/479\/revisions\/515"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/14"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=479"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}