Thanksgiving 2017
In the few weeks since November began, sea changes had occurred in the Neally family.
First, Kerry Neally and Suzanne Nelson were officially engaged. Kerry had given Suzanne Eileen’s own, resized engagement ring when she popped the question and Suzanne almost never took it off. Suzanne, in turn, had taken Kerry to a small jewelry stall in the City’s diamond district, and they picked out a small ring for Kerry, small because of finances and because of Kerry’s own preference for subtlety.
Second, Eileen Neally and Tom Doyle were officially an item, and had been for all of five days when Thanksgiving came around.
Suddenly the Neally clan had expanded. Last Thanksgiving Suzanne and her Aunt Mary and Mary’s partner Betty and their two sons had joined Eileen and Kerry for Thanksgiving at the house in Yonkers. This Thanksgiving, that group, without the boys, would be joined in Tuckahoe by the Doyles: Tom, Andrea, James, and Jennie. Plus Suzanne’s best friend from California, Annie Baxter, with whom Suzanne shared an apartment in the City when she was still in school, would be taking the train up. The house was much smaller than Tom’s in Chappaqua, but it felt like a perfect size, with a leaf put into the dining-room table and people sitting and draped on the living-room furniture.
Tom and James, of course, felt a bit outnumbered by all of the women in the house but they took it in good spirits and did what they could to help. But it became clear that the too-many cooks were clustered in the too-small kitchen, till Eileen shooed everyone out except for Kerry and Suzanne, the three chopping and chatting like the oldest of friends, Kerry’s beloved WFUV—Fordham University Voice—playing softly in the background.
It was a bit awkward at first between the Nelsons and the Doyles—think Sally trying to set Harry up with Carrie Fisher—until Suzanne noticed and drafted Kerry, the bridge between the two, out to liaise and the awkwardness melted away.
Back in the kitchen, Suzanne got a “415” call. She looked at Kerry and looked at Eileen and looked at Kerry before rushing downstairs to Kerry’s study, a faint, questioning “hello” heard by the two who remained in the kitchen. Since Suzanne was due to pick up Annie at the train, Kerry decided to drive down. She got Andi to join her.
Kerry had just met Andi, and she instantly liked her. She was sweet and mischievous and not nearly as intense as Kerry expected of a resident. She would learn that “Doc,” as Kerry uniquely insisted on calling her, had a wicked sense of humor, but that would be later. Instead the two spoke briefly about their parents and how things progressed between them.
As they stood on the platform awaiting Annie’s arrival, Kerry said, “My Mom is head over heels about your dad,” and Andi replied, “And he over her. In no time at all. The heart knows what the heart knows.” At which point Kerry confessed that it was a long story she could only summarize while they waited, but she was particularly pleased because she had kept her heart’s knowledge about and for Suze secret for too long. “Hey, you’re happy now, right? That’s what counts. Me? I’m in no hurry. I’m in the work-hard/play-hard part of my life, which I know won’t last forever. I figure I’ll enjoy it while it lasts.”
Just then they saw the train’s lights as it came around the turn south of the Bronxville Station. Kerry had texted Annie that she was picking her up, and after they met and hugged and Kerry introduced Annie to Andi Kerry told Annie that Suze had gotten a call from California but that she did not know who it was.
Both being gabbers, Andi and Annie were off like long-lost friends. Kerry envied their ability to do that and left them to it until she pulled into the driveway at the house, with Kerry then introducing Annie to those who had not met her before.
Annie pulled Kerry aside, into the empty dining room, and asked what she thought was going on with Suzanne’s call. Kerry had no idea. That Suze took it meant it was probably not her parents. When Kerry was back in the kitchen with Annie and about to go downstairs to check, Suzanne came up, crying. In the kitchen she said it was Eric and she smiled and went out the backdoor. Kerry followed.
“Baby,” she began to Kerry when they were outside, “He plans on coming east.” They walked down the driveway and around the house so they could take a walk on the street, after Kerry popped her head into the kitchen and told her Mom that “everything is good” but that they were taking a short walk.
Eric was younger than Suzanne by six years. He was a senior in high school in Mill Valley, their hometown, and a gifted pianist. Suzanne had not spoken with him since she came to New York over a year before. They figured they’d see each other when she came home but she ended up never going home. Indeed, she no longer considered California “home.” Because she was increasingly estranged from her parents, she had put her California life behind her, and Eric was collateral damage to that decision.
In the call, he told her that he had applied early-admission to Yale, in part because she was in New York and because he wanted to re-connect with her. Things were pretty tense at home, he said, and he wanted the freedom he could get as Suzanne had gotten by coming east for law school. He did not want to follow his father and sister to Stanford. Grade-wise and test-score-wise, he figured he had a good shot of the early-admission and would let her know.
He’d truly grown up, Suzanne realized. He’d just finished sophomore year in high school when she last saw him. Now he was an adult. And he was reaching out to her. She found herself opening up to him as she opened to few people before, perhaps only Kerry and Mary, and he told her that he would only let their parents know what she wanted them to know.