She has been cooking all day and she doesn’t want Wracks underfoot in her kitchen. The turkey is in the oven and she likes to cook it for an hour at 425 degrees to sear and seal the skin and then turn the oven down to cook the poultry for the rest of the time. In a sauce pot are turkey necks and giblets, basil and parsley, garlic and onion because a broth brews for three hours to make gravy and then sauce for Italian dinners tomorrow and the next day. The classic green beans steam in a cauldron with crushed garlic and more crushed garlic adorned with sea salt. A large soup pot holds a myriad of potatoes, boiling happily to become mashed potatoes and the Wracks wait expectantly to mash them.
Wracks, don’t let me overshoot the cooking time. The turkey has to cool for at least thirty minutes before carving. I won’t Mom, says the Wracks
The doorbell rings a ding doing. The grandparents are here to share a holiday meal. Grandpa and Grandma show up bearing sacks of food to feed the Wracks. Outside a Ford Fairlane deluxe town coupé in alabaster white parks, it soon will be converted by the Fonz into a rolling brothel but the Wracks is too young to understand. All he understands is that he has family and they are here together on the holidays and everything is so special. Grandma walks over to him and gently kisses him on the forehead and says Happy Thanksgiving. She is small and has reddish blond hair and green eyes just like him. Grandpa is here, he has been sick all his adult life and had to leave Australia and then Northern California to come here. Wherever someone goes, it is all the same. It is to run from money. He sits down and vegetates. Father Wracks hands him the daily newspaper and he reads it the Wracks sit with his grandmother on the sofa and wait for dinner.
Come mash the potatoes says Mother. Dinner is ready.
Everyone assembles the convertible dining room table to the dining room table lengthened for the holidays. The Fonz appears from the bedroom, he leaves through the window and doesn’t think anyone knows and sees the girl next door. The Fonz sits opposite the Wracks on the side next to Mother and Grandpa and Father sits at the head of the table. The food stands on the walkthrough, ready to be served and eaten. A fresh bottle of wine opens, it is a Johannesburg Riesling and the Wracks gets a quarter glass of wine mixed with water as it is a European custom to serve the children water and wine on holidays. Father Wracker pours wine, passes it around, and then says, let’s say our prayer. Everyone crosses hands and thanks the Lord for this meal and then father says “Manja” which is the Italian word for eat and everyone gets in line to mound their holiday dish with luxurious gourmet cooked food. The Wracks gets a wing and a leg if he wants it, this is the way his parents want it, tons of mashed potatoes and gravy and a log cabin of garlic and parsley steamed green beans. After everyone cannot eat anymore, Mom says, I have a pumpkin and cherry pie from Marie Calendars.
The Wracks go inside the kitchen and bring the dessert plates, the serving utensils, and the two pies and set them on the table next to Mother. She asks everyone what pie they prefer and finally, when she gets to the Wracks, he says; both. Evening coffee perks in the automatic coffee percolator and the Wracks pours the fresh coffee into the decanter and brings it to the table. Coffee cups are already there for the grownups. The Wracks bring all the dishes from the table to the kitchen, because they are English china, they have to be scoured before being put on rinse hold in the automatic dishwasher or they will chip. The sterling silver cutlery, that Mom received at her wedding, has to be washed by hand and then dried. Grandma helps the Wracks clean the kitchen, removes the China from the dishwasher, places it in the pots and pans, and then starts another load. The Wracks load the remaining food into storage containers wrap the turkey in aluminum foil and place it into the Whirlpool refrigerator.
Grandfather moves to the reclining chair, sits down, and lights up a huge Roi tan cigar. He prefers Roi tan to Cuban hand-rolled blends. The house fills with smoke, father opens up the sliding glass door and turns the thermostat up and Grandfather puffs away with a big smile on his face. The other adults’ station in the living room with light green shag carpeting in French chairs given to them by the grandparents. They each have a glass of cognac or aperitif wine. Time passes in sublime happiness. The family is all here, all together for the holidays.
Finally, the grandparents say they have to leave because they don’t like to drive when it is late, and the Wracks fetch their overcoats from the hall closet and present them to them. Even the Fonz is here and the Wracker family waves goodbye to the grandparents as they roll away in the Ford Fairlane. Father is now sitting in the recliner smokes a Pall Mall cigarette and watches television on the color set brought to them by the grandparents. The Wracks goes and puts away things and straightens things and clears the table as is his custom and constant task. The Fonz always disappears, he goes and visits the neighbors and will never admit to visiting them. The Wracks moves to his bedroom which will soon be his grandmother’s bedroom, takes off his pants and shirt, puts on pajamas goes to bed watches as the stars twinkle through the transparent shutters that shroud his room, and finally falls asleep.
This is one of many to be had, a long time ago, with important people doing important things, and the past slowly slips away. The Wracks thanks the maker he had a family to live with and have a somewhat normal life. Many of our beautiful children don’t. Like our forefathers, who hunted turkey because their crops failed, and the Indians who brought corn and beans to the first Thanksgiving, and lived in harmony with the European colonists, the Wracks want to thank everyone who made his Thanksgiving possible and hope all children will have a good thanksgiving, like he had. Like water under the bridge, it is all gone now, and what we have are beautiful memories, to share with our offspring. Happy Thanksgiving.