Chapter Twenty-Six
Lila
“Mom, I love you, but for Christ’s sake, could you please not use your hands to serve yourself mashed potatoes?” Dad shouts as Maren and Will argue over whose half of the wishbone is actually bigger.
“Do not use that term at the Thanksgiving table,” Mom now yells at Dad, while Grandma continues scooping potatoes onto her plate—with her hand.
Cookie is barking under the table, and Trixie is lapping up milk from a saucer at the dining room table. Grandma Claire had a meltdown when Mom suggested the elderly cat should not be given a seat at the table. Grandma is convinced it may be Trixie’s last Thanksgiving—as we all are—so she demanded the cat have a seat at the table.
Oliver holds my hand, giving it a squeeze, as Mom and Dad continue to fight about religion and Will and Maren continue to argue about the damn wishbone. It’s chaos, sheer chaos, and I know any second Oliver’s going to get in his Mustang and hightail it to Maine, to a probably normal, quiet holiday.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“For what?” Oliver asks, squeezing my hand again.
“This,” I reply, gesturing to the chaos that is the family.
In the middle of the table, the turkey, scorched to a crisp, sits waiting to be served. I’m suddenly feeling very vegan. There’s also a pie on the table that is clearly the kind you buy in the freezer section, as evidenced by its flimsy pan and the fact it still looks frosty.
At least Mom tried, just like she does every year.
When the fighting calms down to a mere murmur, I speak up. “Guys, can we please just eat?”
Everyone turns to me, seemingly remembering that we have a new guest, Oliver. When Luke was around, he was used to all this. Now, though, Maren smooths out her shirt and Mom plasters on her company smile, remembering Oliver isn’t completely used to the Morrow family chaos.
“Who wants mashed potatoes?” Grandma Claire asks, holding up a palmful. We all stare, not sure how to handle it.
Then Oliver does the unthinkable. He shrugs and passes Grandma his plate. She proceeds to plop a glob on his plate with her hands. Maren starts laughing, and I shake my head, taking a huge gulp of wine, knowing I’ll need it.
“Shouldn’t we like, say what we’re thankful for or something?” Maren asks, apparently trying to keep up the appearance that we’re somewhat normal for Oliver.
I think that boat sank a long time ago.
“I’m thankful for hot pizza men and that Lila found a new man.” Grandma Claire winks at me, and I feel my face redden. I guess it could’ve been worse.
“Although,” Grandma Claire begins, and I know something awful is coming. “I do miss Luke. He had nice curls. They were so scrumptious.”
I look across the table, blinking. This is a disaster.
But thankfully, Maren turns the conversation as Oliver awkwardly takes a sip of wine.
“Well, I think we have a lot to be thankful for. Our family is growing, and we’re all finding happiness. And we’ve got some big news to share. Lila?”
Oh shit. The moving out part. Well, things are already messy, so…
“I have a new apartment. I’m moving in the first of December.”
Mom stares at me. “I didn’t know you two were moving in already. That was fast.” She smiles as if to say “gotcha.”
“Oh no, we’re not… it’s just me,” I fumble.
“Congratulations,” Oliver says, kissing me on the cheek. He leans in, “Although moving in isn’t something I’d be opposed to, just so you know.”
My cheeks are definitely burning now.
“Oh, good. Can I come with you, Lila? Your mom is such a stick-in-the-mud. Plus, it’ll be easier for us to get to the casino on Thursdays.”
“What casino?” Mom asks.
“Nothing, Mom. It’s all good,” I say, biting my lip.
“Well, anyway, we’re happy for you, Lila. It’s going to be great,” Maren says, raising her glass of water in cheers.
“I don’t know why you’re in a hurry to move out. It’s not like you have it so bad here,” Mom argues, her anger making itself known. I practically choke.
“Anyway, that’s not the only announcement. Will and I have an announcement of our own.”
I look up now, giving my sister a glance. I knew something was up. I knew it. I feel a grin forming, but I wait to hear the words.
“We’re having a baby,” Will says. “We just found out.”
“I’m pregnant!” Maren says, and I scream, leaping to my feet and racing around the table to give her a hug.
“That was fast,” Mom says. “You’ve only been married….”
“Mom, really? We were living together, for Christ’s sake. Do you think we were chaste that whole time?”
“Do not use the Lord’s name in vain,” Mom argues as she, too, rises to give Maren a hug after scowling a bit.
“A baby. A grandchild. This is great,” Dad says, heading over to shake Will’s hand. The table erupts into sheer chaos again, only Oliver and Grandma Claire in their seats.
There’s discussion of due dates and baby showers and sheer joy. This is amazing news.
“Wow, this guy here must be pretty fertile,” Grandma Claire says, nudging Will when he passes her. Of course, she knows how to make a moment awkward.
“Well, now that the food is probably cold, I suppose we should eat. Looks like it’s going to be a big year of changes again for the Morrow family,” Mom says, and for once, I don’t hear a tinge of judgment or regret or anything but… love. Just love.
We all raise our glasses in a final toast before we dig into the burnt turkey and fondled mashed potatoes.
It’s not quite the perfect Thanksgiving dinner of the movies, but I don’t think anything in this family is.
After we’ve eaten dinner and cleared the table, I’m on the front porch seeking a moment of quiet with Oliver, staring at the stars in the chilly autumn wind.
“It was a great night,” Oliver says.
I smile, looking at him, glancing back through the window at my family. They’re gathered around in the living room now, arguing over who should venture to the attic to get the tree and bring it down. I’m glad I’ve escaped that argument.
“It was,” I agree. Oliver takes a step toward me, pulling me to him. His lips find mine, and we kiss under the stars. I feel the electricity between us, the mutual attraction.
I’m glad he’s here, I really am.
“I’m sorry for what my grandma said,” I say when he pulls back, hoping I don’t blow the moment but feeling like I need to acknowledge it.
“It’s okay,” Oliver says, sounding like he means it. “I know he was a huge part of your life. I get that. But I also know he’s your past. And I know I’d like to continue being your future. I know this might have started as a rebound,” he says.
I open my mouth to protest, but he shushes me. “It’s okay. I get it. But the thing is, Lila, I think we’ve grown into something more. I know we need to take it slow and see where this goes. But being here tonight with your family, with you, it just felt… right. You know?”
“I do,” I say, smiling up at him. He pulls me into a tight hug, and for the first time in a long time, I feel content. I feel safe in his arms.
I look back through the window, where Will is trudging up the stairs, apparently nominated to go digging in the attic for the tree. Mom is yelling at Grandma about something with Trixie, and Cookie is nipping at Maren. Dad is holding his head in the recliner, probably asking God for a little sanity.
They’re a crazy crew, an exhausting family unit. But they’re mine.
And looking at them, standing here in Oliver’s arms, I’m glad.
Standing here, I know now that this is what I want. I want the whole lot—the crazy family, the love that Maren and Will have, the excitement of a son or daughter coming my way. I want big family dinners and burnt turkeys at Thanksgiving and exciting news being shared.
Standing here in Oliver’s arms looking in from a different vantage point, I realize that maybe it’s all been in reach all along.
My family, the love, the connection—it’s been here this whole time. I thought I had to get a promise and a ring to have that feeling, to experience that love. Standing here tonight, though, watching Will and Maren smile over their unexpected miracle on his or her way, I realize you just can’t plan life.
This is not the future I imagined for myself last year at this time.
Last year, I stood here, in this spot, looking in as Luke held me, talking about pumpkin pies and the thrill of Christmas coming up. We stood here with no real plan for the future, with no certainty about where we were going or the next step.
Last year, Maren stood here, not knowing what was coming up around the bend, that in one year, she’d be expecting her first baby with her new husband.
Life is a constant, changing road—and as much as I want to plan for every second of it, I can’t. I can’t predict where it’s going to go, and I can’t expect to make time stipulations for what is going to happen next.
Life’s about rolling with the changes and learning to find simple joy in every stage, in every unexpected turn, and in every moment.
Standing here tonight, I’m the same Lila I was last year—but I’m also a little bit different. We’re all a little different.
And it feels… okay. It all feels okay.