16
TWO WEEKS BEFORE THANKSGIVING, ADAM AND Maggie were spending a quiet evening at his place, when out of the blue she brought up Thanksgiving. She hadn't thought about it before, but now that they were spending so much time together, she wanted to spend it with him, and wondered if he was going to be with his kids. She hadn't met either of them yet, and they had both agreed it was still too soon. They were together nearly every night, and he loved being with her, but as he told her, this was still the test drive, and they were taking their relationship out for a spin.
“Thanksgiving?” He looked at her blankly. “Why?”
“Are you going to be with your kids?”
“No, Rachel is taking them to her in-laws in Ohio. We alternate holidays. This is my off year.”
She smiled at him then. She hoped that meant good news for her. She hadn't had a real Thanksgiving, with people she cared about, in years. Not since she was a very little kid, if then. She'd cooked a turkey with her mother once, who had been too drunk to eat it and passed out before it was cooked. Maggie had wound up eating it at the kitchen table alone. But at least her mother was there, even if unconscious in the next room.
“Do you suppose we could spend it together?” she asked, cuddling up to him, and looking at him.
“No, we can't,” he said, looking grim.
“Why not?” She took it as an immediate rebuff. Things had been going really well between them, and the brusqueness of his answer took her by surprise and hurt her feelings.
“Because I have to go to my parents'. And I can't take you with me.” With a name like O'Malley, his mother would have a heart attack. Besides, who he was dating was none of her business.
“Why are you going there? I thought you had a terrible time on Yom Kippur.” What he was saying made no sense to her.
“I did. That has nothing to do with anything. In my family, you have to turn yourself in for holidays anyway. Like a warrant for your arrest. It's not about having a good time. It's about tradition and obligation. As much as they drive me nuts, I think family is important. Mine stinks, but I still feel I need to go and show respect. God knows why, but I feel I owe it to them. My parents are old, they're not going to change, so I suck it up and go. Don't you have somewhere to go?” He looked miserable when he asked her. He hated the reminder that he had to spend another rotten holiday with them again. He hated the holidays, and always had, because of that. His mother managed to ruin every single one of them for him. The only mercy was that his parents celebrated Chanukah and not Christmas, so he got to spend Christmas with his kids. That was fun at least. Holidays on Long Island never were. “Where are you going to be for Thanksgiving?”
“In my apartment, alone. The others are all going home.” And she, of course, had nowhere to go.
“Stop trying to make me feel guilty,” he nearly shouted at her. “I have enough of that with my mother as it is. Maggie, I'm really sorry you have nowhere to go, but I can't do anything about it. I have to go home.”
“I don't understand that,” she said unhappily. “They treat you like shit. You told me so. So why would you go home?”
“I feel like I should,” he said, looking stressed. He didn't want to defend his decisions to her. It was hard enough as it was. “I have no choice.”
“Yes, you do,” she insisted.
“No, I don't. I don't want to discuss this with you again. That's just the way it is. I'll be home that night. We can do something over the weekend.”
“That's not the point.” She was pushing, and he didn't like it. She was treading on dangerous ground with him. “If this is a relationship,” she pressed on at her own peril, “then I want to spend holidays with you. We've been together for two months.”
“Maggie, don't push me,” he warned her. “This isn't a relationship. We're dating. That's different.”
“Well, pardon me,” she said sarcastically. “Who died and made you king?”
“You knew the rules when we started. You lead your life. I lead mine. We meet in between when it works for both of us. Well, Thanksgiving doesn't work for me. I wish it did. Believe me, I wish it did. And I'd be happy to spend it with you if I could. But I can't. Thanksgiving with my parents is a command performance for me. I'll come home with a migraine, a stomachache, and a giant pain in the ass, but come hell or high water, they expect me to be there.”
“That sucks,” she said, pouting.
“Yes, it does,” he agreed. “For both of us.”
“And what was that bullshit about this not being a relationship? And all that meeting-in-the-middle crap?”
“That's what we've been doing. Not to mention the fact that I've been seeing you every weekend, which is a big deal.”
“Then that makes it a relationship, doesn't it?” She continued to push, missing all the danger signals from him, which was rare for her. But she was upset about Thanksgiving and not being with him. It made her braver about challenging him and his “rules.”
“A relationship is for people who eventually want to get married. I don't. I told you that. This is dating. It works for me.” She didn't say a word after that, and the next morning, she went back to her own place. He felt guilty all afternoon about what he'd said. It was a relationship. It had become one. He wasn't seeing anyone else, and as far as he knew, neither was she. He just didn't like admitting it, but he also didn't like hurting her feelings. And he hated not being with her on Thanksgiving. He hated all of it. And he felt like a shit. She was at work when he called her, and he left a loving message on her machine.
He never heard from her when she got off work. And she didn't turn up at the apartment. He called her that night, and she was out. After that, he called her every hour on the hour, until midnight. He thought she was playing games with him, until one of her roommates answered, and told him she was really out. The next time he called, they said she was asleep. She had never called him back. And by the following afternoon, he was beginning to steam. He finally decided to call her at work, which he rarely did.
“Where were you last night?” he asked her, trying to sound calmer than he felt.
“I thought this was only dating. Wasn't that the one where neither of us gets to ask questions? I'll have to look it up, but I think those were the rules, since this isn't a relationship.”
“Look, I'm sorry. That was stupid. I was just upset about Thanksgiving. I feel like a shit leaving you alone.”
“You are a shit for leaving me alone,” she corrected.
“Maggie, give me a break on this one. Please. I have to go to Long Island. Honest to God, I have no choice.”
“Yes, you do. I don't mind if you're with your kids. That, I understand. But stop going back to spend holidays with your parents, so they can punish you.”
“They're my parents. I have to. Look, come over tonight. I'll cook you dinner and we'll have a nice time.”
“I have something to do. I'll be there at nine.” She sounded cool.
“What are you doing?”
“Don't ask me questions. I'll get there as soon as I can.”
“What's that all about?”
“I have to go to the library,” she said as he fumed.
“That is the worst bullshit excuse I've ever heard. All right, I'll see you tonight. Get there whenever you want.” He hung up on her then, and wanted to tell her not to bother to come at all. But he wanted to see her, and he wanted to know what was going on. There were at least two nights a week when he called her and she wasn't home. If she was seeing someone else, he wanted to know. She was the first woman he had been faithful to in years. And he was beginning to wonder if she was cheating on him.