Given the history, I shouldn’t have been surprised by today’s events. And yet a tiny part of me hoped every year that things would be different. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
I struggled to get the sweat suit on, tugging the snug pants over my hips and fighting to pull the top’s zipper over my bosom. When I finally finished and peered in the mirror, I cringed. The red sweat suit had a white collar and cuffs. I looked like a pregnant Santa Claus.
“What’s taking so long, Gwen?” Mom called from the hall. “If you don’t come out right now, I’m just going to come in on my own.”
I opened the door, Mom sucked in her breath, and Becca burst out laughing.
“I’ll have to return it.” I gestured at the red nightmare. “It’s a bit tight.”
“Of course it’s tight.” Mom rolled her eyes. “How will you ever be encouraged to lose weight if you constantly wear fat clothes? That’s why I bought you a medium.”
Tears welled up in my eyes, but I wouldn’t let them flow.
Mom clapped her hands together. “That’s enough about you, Gwen. This is a holiday for the whole family, after all, and we have guests. Get dressed and come back and join everyone.”
“Wait.” Becca handed me another box. “This is from me and Joe. But you don’t have to model it now. I’m sure it’ll look great on you.”
Right. I closed the door and sank onto my old bed, the springs creaking. Sighing, I opened Becca’s gift. A royal blue sweater with horizontal white stripes. At least it was the right size, but stripes! It would look hideous on me. Of course it didn’t come as a surprise. Every year since we’d become adults, Becca had given me gifts that made me look bad. In return, every year I’d bought her gifts she wouldn’t like. Last year, a bargain-brand video camera. This year, a silver bracelet. Becca only wears gold.
I looked at my watch. How soon could I leave without Mom calling me rude? Whatever the time, it wouldn’t be soon enough.
* * * *
Two Saturdays later Hanukkah was set to begin, and once again, I had to deal with my family. Mom demanded we celebrate the first night at my place this year, which was unusual. Since Dad was the only real Jewish person in our immediate family—Becca and I had been raised Presbyterian, like Mom, but with a fine appreciation for the gift-oriented Jewish holidays—we always celebrated the first night of Hanukkah at Mom and Dad’s. Odder still was Mom’s insistence on coming over early in the afternoon. Hanukkah didn’t start until sundown, and I couldn’t imagine Mom really wanted to hang out for several hours in my rented townhouse in my “bad” neighborhood.
Still, shortly after lunch, Mom and Dad arrived. Mom made a beeline for my Christmas tree. She stood silent, arms folded, studying it. I had just strung up the colored lights and a few glittering ornaments the night before. It looked great.
“Honestly, Gwen,” Mom finally said. “Why must you pick the scruffiest, most pathetic tree every year? It’s like you try to embarrass me.” She walked over to the window and pulled the curtains closed so the neighbors wouldn’t have to suffer seeing my tree.
Stung, I went downstairs to take some deep breaths and dig out my menorah. I found no leftover candles. Fabulous! I could escape to the market to buy a box. I’d need two candles for tonight, three for tomorrow, and so on for the eight nights of Hanukkah. I always liked saying the prayers and lighting the candles. It made me feel peaceful.
Focusing on staying calm, I returned to the living room, and my eyes nearly bugged out. Mom was directing two delivery men to move my love seat to a corner and set a big box in its place.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Surprise!” Mom waved her hand at the box like the girls from The Price is Right do. “Happy Hanukkah.” She nodded at the workmen, and they pulled apart the box to reveal…oh, my Lord. A treadmill. “It’s for snowy days when you can’t get to the gym this winter,” she said.
I felt a major migraine coming on, and I never got migraines.
I stood dumbfounded while the workmen set up the treadmill. I still hadn’t said a word by the time they left.
“Don’t give me that look, Gwen,” Mom said. “Once I saw that sweat suit on you, I knew you wouldn’t wear it out of the house. Now you have no excuse not to put it on. Come, Henry, let’s go home and give Gwen a chance to try out her present.”
“What?” I shook my head. “What about lighting the candles tonight?”
Mom scrunched her eyebrows, confused. “We’re not actually going to do that here, Gwen. We’ll light the candles at home, as always. I’ll expect you before sundown.” She pushed Dad toward the door, then turned to look at the treadmill. “And by the way, you’re welcome.”
* * * *
The next night, after lighting the candles at home, I thought back to Thanksgiving and realized I now had something family-oriented to be thankful for. I wouldn’t have to see Mom or Becca for three whole weeks, when we’d all have Christmas Eve dinner at Becca’s.
I had twenty-one blissful, family-free days to look forward to. Happy, I wrote some holiday cards to old friends while a batch of sugar cookies baked in the oven.
My happiness didn’t last long. The next morning, Mom showed up at my school. She’d never expressed any interest in my job before. I had just finished meeting with a parent and was showing her out when Mom practically swaggered into the school office.
“Gwen,” she interrupted. “I have the most fantastic news!”
Please be moving to Florida.
Mom looked around until she was sure she had the attention of the secretaries, my vice-principal, and a student who was in the room, as well as the departing parent and myself. Then she clapped her hands together. “Your brother-in-law, the doctor,” she said, emphasizing the word, like I didn’t know Joe’s profession, “has been chosen to play a very prominent rebel in the next Patriots’ Day re-enactment.”
Wow. I had grown up in nearby Lexington, home of the American Revolution, and its Patriots’ Day re-enactment each April was a big deal around here. Being asked to play any important position was a great honor for Joe, who deserved it both for being a nice guy and for putting up with my sister.
Everyone oohed and ahhed appropriately. Mom beamed.
“Your sister certainly hit the jackpot with her husband,” she said, picking lint off my suit jacket. “It’s such a shame you don’t have a man in your life, darling. Or any prospects. Maybe if you actually used that treadmill…”
I looked for a hole in the floor to crawl into.
“Anyway,” Mom continued. “Becca is planning a family celebration at her home Friday night at eight. You’re expected to attend.”
With a quick nod, Mom walked out. Everyone in the office turned away, embarrassed, and I felt something in me break.
It was one thing for Mom to belittle me in front of friends and family. That I’d grown used to. But now she’d polluted my work environment. Undermined my authority. And thrown Becca in my face. Again.
Escaping my colleagues’ pitying glances, I went to my private office and paced.
Becca always got everything, yet she was such a witch. Joe and my nephew, Charlie, would be so much better off without her.
And Mom. She claimed to love me, but she only really loved herself—and Becca.
In a flash, a plan unfolded in my mind. So simple. I could kill both birds with one stone.
Well…I wouldn’t actually kill them both.
* * * *
As soon as school let out that afternoon, I