"I wish Doug could have been here." Grandma addressed everyone, no one in particular. There was a little silence. I saw dad's jaw tense a little. He was debating with himself I could tell. Finally he spoke to his mother.
"Well mom...personally I'm a little tired of his disappearing games. It's time he stopped using his past as an excuse for these games. He's able to make decisions and be held accountable for them." I felt an immediate appreciation for dad. Like he had taken my 'side', unknowingly, against all things Doug. I tried not to look but gauge how the uncles reacted. I thought I perceived slight head nods.
"Neil that's no way to talk about Doug. He's had more to deal with than most of us put together." Grandma was literally tight lipped while she spoke her clipped words.
Grandpa was watching dad while grandma spoke. He and dad usually seemed to be on the same wave length. They were very much alike in their feelings and actions. I got a little nervous when he spoke. "You know Alice I hate to say it but I think I agree with Neil. You don't just abandon the people who care about you without telling them what's going on. There has always been something about Doug that bothered me when he pulls these disappearing tricks. Neil, I think you're right, he's not held accountable for much." Grandpa nodded as he spoke, he mostly spoke to his salad. I think to avoid looking at grandma's eyes.
"He isn't responsible for what happened to him." Grandma looked near tears.
I wanted to shout HE SHOULD BE FOR WHAT HE DOES NOW. "Maybe not Alice but he is responsible for what he does now." Coming from mom that was pretty strong. I got the feeling this had been a topic of discussion before and there were lines drawn. I knew where Grandma stood, she always made it clear how fond she was of Doug. Which I never could understand.
Why, and how, did they start talking about him now? And why did I have to listen to it? Mom must have senses something because she kept talking. "And honestly I think there are happier things to talk about now." Everyone took a keen interest in their salads. Mom smiled across the table at me. Everyone tried to relax, it seemed, except grandma.
Conversation returned, in bits, over the salad, to me. And now that the birthing story was past they headed into all of the cute things I had done and how I had always been a "pleasure" to them all. I was surprised at all they said and recounted. I never knew all the things they told me at lunch. They experienced a lot of firsts with me. First grandchild, first niece. They told me more stories and more feelings. Feelings and stories I don't remember until they tell me, then I do have that recall. I looked at my parent's faces, my grandparent's faces, and I saw time. I saw the time they spent loving me and me not even being conscious of it most of the time. I saw softness, concern and depth that I had not noticed or paid attention to.
Everything seemed so surface to me. Maybe that was me. Not them. I tried to focus on what they said, to remember the feelings of our family times as they remembered them. It was an exercise, to say the least. Some memories came easier than others. Some feelings felt natural, and some I felt obligated to feel even if I wasn't sure I felt it or not. Some things I could not feel like they seemed to be expressing them. Maybe I just couldn't express it the way they did. No, as I listened it wasn't the words that made it powerful. Or memorable. It was the look they gave each other. The look they gave me, the touch of a hand as they patted another hand and said "do you remember?" Or the way dad would lean back, point at Ted or Larry and say "what about...." with a laugh or wide eyes. And as soon as the crux of the story was out the others would start nodding their heads as they recalled the same memory.
It wasn't that I didn't remember the stories I should have been old enough to remember. I did remember some of them. I just didn't feel....like I was part of it.
I felt honored that they felt such happiness because of me. Only I didn't get it. How could I have made them so happy, and not know it, and not feel like I was part of it? They talked through our salads and into our main course. There was a little silence as we ate. And fun as they had to show me how to eat lobster.
"Oh I almost forgot Nicky..." Grandma pulled her purse from the floor and opened it. She stuck her hand in and pulled out some envelopes and handed them to me. "One of them is from Sandy."
"That was nice of Sandy". Dad was referring to the fact that Sandy had just divorced from Ted and the divorce wasn't pleasant. Ted just grinned at dad.
"Like Sandy said Neil, Sandy's problems were with Ted, not the rest of us." Grandma was still ticked about what had been said about Doug. Personally, I was with the others. Grandma wouldn't let it go. I bet Grandpa gets an ear full when they get home.
Since Grandma was handing me cards she was expecting me to take them and open them. I had to stop eating. Clean my hands and open them. Larry and Carol handed me a card, Ted handed me a card and made sure to turn far enough towards me while he was handing it to me to be able to roll his eyes so his mom would not see. I winked in appreciation of that.
I was thrilled at the money. Ted and Larry each gave me one hundred dollars and Sandy had given me fifty. "I guess this celebration is on you!" Dad laughed as he saw the money.
The rest of our meal was small talk. Grandma was pretty quiet. Which made everyone else somewhat uncomfortable. I think grandpa was getting mad at her. I would have liked to have shook her and screamed at her for defending him. What dad said wasn't even mean, it was just true, and that's not dad's fault. It's Doug's. How would she react if I ever told?
I let myself picture that. Telling grandma, in her house, where he had lived. I pictured her not believing me and defending him to me. I pictured myself screaming, yelling and demanding she believe me. I pictured her crying and saying no. It wasn't true. And I pictured him there. I pictured him staying, and me leaving.
I looked at grandma and was shocked at the feeling that washed over me as we sat there in that nice restaurant with the window by the garden. How could I? How could she? Would she? I looked at my plate so I wouldn't have to look at her. I was sure she would.
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