“I’m on my way home and I’ve got supper with me, so no worries.”
“Ah perfect. That’s just one of the many reasons you’re my best girl,” Mike said.
“Aww, you sweet talker.”
“I’m just trying to butter you up.”
“Let me guess, you want some sexy time later,” she said, speeding up to get around a slow-moving mini-van.
“That too, but um … my mom called and was hoping we could host Thanksgiving this year,” he said.
“What?” Jess asked, already completely irritated even though he hadn’t told her yet that he’d already said yes.
“Yeah, I guess Susan can’t do it because their contractor is behind on their new kitchen and my mom feels like her place is too small, now that the kids are all bigger.”
Jess rolled her eyes all the way to the back of her head. “As if the kids didn’t take up more room when they were toddlers and we had to bring half our house with us.”
“I know, it doesn’t make much sense, but you know how she is. She gets an idea in her head and there’s no talking her out of it.”
“So, you said yes.” Jess’s tone was unmistakably irked.
“I didn’t really feel like I had a choice,” he answered, immediately defensive. “But you don’t have to cook. I’ll take care of everything.”
Right.Hewas going to make a full turkey dinner with all the trimmings while Jess lounged around all day. Like that would ever happen. She’d never let it because, a) no one would be grateful for salmonella, and b) she’d go down in history as the laziest woman in the Halloway family. She let out a long sigh. “No, I wouldn’t expect you to do it on your own. We can do it together.”
“Great! It won’t be that bad, I promise. My mom said she’ll bring dessert and her sweet potato casserole, and Susan will bring a salad.”
“Okay, well that’s good at least. See you in a bit.”
“Be safe. I love you.”
“I will,” she said, then added, “Love you too.”
After she hung up, Jessica grumbled to herself while she flipped radio stations in search of something soothing. She gave up after a minute, finding everything irritating. She was going to have to host Thanksgiving for the third year in a row. Last year was supposed to be Susan and Tom’s turn but their oven broke a week before, which led to the reno from hell that was apparently still going on.
Lilian and Michael Halloway weren’t the worst in-laws Jess had heard of, but they weren’t exactly the best either. Michael Sr. (never Mike) was a typical white boomer with his old-fashioned views on the world, children, and women. Sexist, yes, but misogynist, no. Not knowingly anyway. He did exhibit those ‘micro-aggressions’ that Winnie liked to point out every time they left.Did you notice when Grandpa told Noah to look after his sister? Noah is achild. And as if I’m completely incapable of standing up for myself just because I’m a woman.
He also treated Jessica as though she might shrivel up and blow away like a sheet of paper lit on fire if anyone so much as looked at her the wrong way. As chivalrous as this was, Michael also chronically underestimated Jessica and conveniently forgot that she had her arts degree and that she had a job that paid real money that the family needed. Granted, it wasn’t much, but without her hours at the studio, her children wouldn’t have much of a college fund at all. Jess had socked away as much as she could for them, and each time she looked at the account, she felt a small sense of pride. But Michael Sr. wasn’t about to give her credit for that.
Lilian was one of those moms who believed her son was God’s gift to the world, and that no woman would ever be a suitable match for him—Jessica included. Even though Jess had been part of the family for nearly twenty years, Lilian still treated her like an outsider. But what was worse were the little digs she administered here and there. Nothing so nasty that anyone could call her out on them. Just subtle little ways she undermined her. “Oh Jess, I finally remembered to bring you that Comet cleaning powder I use to keep my sinks gleaming. You’re going to love it,” or “I wish I could take a page out of your book and stop caring so much about how I look.” She was also forever on the lookout for signs of rejection, and if she got even the tiniest hint of a no, she would immediately (and dramatically) cancel her proposed plan herself. Even the slightest hesitation before answering would cause it. And for that reason, she knew Mike had felt backed into a corner when his mother had called about Thanksgiving, so he would have said, “Yes, no problem, Mom,” simply to avoid the holiday getting completely blown up.
As much as she understood his reasoning, she was still filled with dread (and resentment) at the task that now had been laid at her feet. The planning and shopping and decorating. The getting up at the ass-crack of dawn to get the turkey in the oven so they could eat at three p.m. (Lilian and Michael’s preferred time for a big feast). The chopping, dicing, slicing, peeling, stirring, smashing, basting, and oh, the cleaning. The day before the entire house would get a good ‘going over,’ and the day of, it would be a steady stream of dishes until well into the evening. She’d drop onto the couch that night and groan at her achy feet, while Mike would wear a satisfied smile as he said, “That went really well, I think. You definitely outdid yourself again this year.”
And yes, she would have outdone herself, as in, done so much she wanted out.
* * *
Secret Journal Entry
October 9th
This will be my last entry. Then I’m throwing this book in the bottom of the trash can. Better yet, I’ll drop it in the dumpster behind 7-11. I’ve booked an appointment with a proper therapist who will help me sort out my shit. I’ll see him tomorrow morning, and with any luck, I can stop having these crazy fantasies that really aren’t helping me at all.
Having said that, today’s is too good not to write down. Somehow, I inherited the mansion belonging to the uber-rich grandma in Crazy Rich Asians. The one that’s surrounded by botanical gardens. Baxter adores Singapore. So do I. Especially when I pop over to the late-night open-air food market, where I sample new things. Everyone knows me there, on account of me being the richest woman in all of Singapore now. But they don’t just like me for my money. They love how down-to-earth I am. This was the life I was meant to live.
7
“I came. I saw. I made it awkward.”
