I was low on cigarettes, so once we arrived at the apartment, Jen and I walked to the local grocer, “Ralph’s,” to pick them up, along with items needed for Jen to make her infamous black bean dip for a party we were going to on Friday night.
We passed a homeless man on the way in, and while we did not acknowledge him as he begged to us, I was impressed to see Jen peruse through other aisles outside of the Mexican ingredients she needed. Picking up PB&J, a loaf of bread, Doritos and Chips Ahoy, along with napkins and flatware from the salad bar, she asked for them to be bagged separately from her bean dip needs. On the way out, she promptly laid the bag in front of the man, wishing him a good holiday. We continued across the parking lot as I looked at her with admiration. She stared back in wonder at me. “What?” she said, “I’m not THAT heartless. I just don’t give out money.” I chuckled, and soon she was tearing apart the kitchen, chopping up all kinds of ingredients while I blogged away to catch up as best I could.
After some time, we were pressed and dressed, and heading towards Laguna Niguel, a quiet community that Jen recalls gave her little to offer in terms of social life. Here I was about to meet the family tree. Complicated, but not incomprehensible. A new family – and it wasn’t mine. Soon enough, though, I would feel like it was.
Leonard and Carol Dufur reside in a lovely home up a hill in the region of Laguna Niguel, or thereabouts. Leonard is father to Sher and Don; Carol is his second wife. His first wife, Barbara Gray, is Jen’s mother, and Sher and Don’s. Jen’s father, Barbara’s second ex-husband, was enjoying Thanksgiving with the Italian Urbanos. Sher is married to Aaron Pai, of Asian descent, and they of 4 lovely children: Trevor, who should be a model, and is; Taylor, a quirky and fun, spritely surfer; Lindsay, recently married to Scottie, a faux red head (I can spot a bottle job in an instant); and Ashlyn, the quiet one, but eager to laugh when it’s warranted. Don was there with his younger set of children, Cody and Tessa. Their mother, Julie, and her new husband, Chris were also accounted for. Chris’ family was very much available by cel phone, as he spent a lot of time tuning in to them in this manner from the confines of the garage.
Both Carol and Leonard greeted me in their stocking feet and welcomed me with open arms. I instinctively embraced Sher but was cordial with Aaron, who was quiet and reserved like his daughter Ashlyn. Don extended a hearty handshake and his children were polite and well-mannered. Julie hugged me hard as if I hadn’t seen her in years…I rolled with it. No one blinked twice.
They were less enamored of the fact that I was Jen’s guest, for the true guest star of the day was Jen’s hair, which many had not yet seen in its current “Bernice Bobs Her Hair” exhibition. Jen with short hair is a novelty to say the least. I stood off to one side as the compliments flowed. In fact I stood off to one side in general, admiring the family dynamics of smiles and hugs, “in jokes” and sibling meddling (by generation of course)…there was a lot of love going on in that room. I tried to continue being a sponge.
The game on TV gave way to episodes of Family Guy, and I watched from the den as Trevor carved the turkey, with Cody in keen observance next to him, ultimately I suppose, learning the craft from his oldest cousin so that one day, he too may stand in those shoes. Tessa flitted back and forth doing a variety of taste tests before dishes made their way to the elongated table decked out across the living and dining room. Leonard, an artisan as well, had hand cut the plywood pieces and cinched together what had to be a 20’ makeshift table. Carol had decked it out with hand-plucked leaves of orange, gold and maroon. I don’t know where she got them from, but apparently, there are trees in California that change color each fall.
I sat with Don to my left at the foot of the table; he’s a lefty, and needs his space. Jen was to my right, and across from me were newlyweds Scottie and Lindsay. A traditional feast ensued, the only variance of which for me was cranberry mixed with pomegranate, a sweet and crunchy new taste to me.
There was simply no drama. Here I was among a blended family with general love and regard for one another. Leonard proposed a quiet toast, observing that the thing for which he was most grateful was his family, and may we all be together again soon. I was moved by his simplicity, then Cody said the blessing. I ate as well as I ever had; it was in fact my first home-cooked meal since I’d arrived.
Filled to the gills, everyone retired to various cliques of conversation in areas away from the table. I digested as quickly as possible, as the desserts were going fast. On my return to the table, I watched as Jen’s nieces and nephews (young adults, mind you) climbing on top of each other in pseudo-wrestling matches on the living room couch…Jen created miniature bouquets with Carol’s leaves, and her nieces played with the leaves over their eyes, urging Jen to do the same, as they made Chinese mockery of themselves with refrains of “Ching Chong!” to each other…they all laughed in spite of themselves.
Barbara was first to leave, after a few silly photos were taken, and before too long the feast had ended. On the ride home, Jen confided that I had survived the first Thanksgiving without “incident.” Every family has their dramas, but for some reason, I was spared, something for which SHE found herself grateful.
As for me, I was just happy to observe a different family dynamic; a California style Thanksgiving with mirth and laughter, cider and cinnamon, love…and another new memory. I look forward to growing in friendship with this family.
We were home around 8, and Jen continued her bean dip prep as I wrote more and more frenetically. Tomorrow was my last full day here; I planned to rest up for the party with her friends next evening.
The scent of Jen’s bean dip permeated the apartment as I looked at my suitcase…wondering what, if anything, I no longer would need out in this climate.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment