Chapter Thirty-Seven
A few weeks ago, when I imagined my firstThanksgiving in America, I didn’t imagine my sister wouldn’t be speaking to me. I didn’t imagine Davi would no longer be my boyfriend or that things between me and my mom would be so tense, I could hardly look her in the eyes. I didn’t imagine my first Thanksgiving in America would also be my last.
My entire family is around the table in the formal dining room. Today, the main house doesn’t seem too big. That’s because we’re all together, including my cousin Naomi, who’s home from college. Thanksgiving is her favorite holiday, and when she got home last night, she instantly went into preparation mode. That meant going over the extensive Thanksgiving menu, rearranging the fall-themed decorations her mom already put out and assigning me, Esosa, and Adrian to our specific Thanksgiving prep duties. The girl is not only meticulous, she’s an impressive multitasker too. Today, she woke everyone at the crack of dawn, and between bossing us around and ensuring things stayed on schedule, she baked four pies—sweet potato, pecan, pumpkin, and apple. With her excitement, I didn’t have the heart to tell her I don’t like pie. When the time comes, I’ll likely have to smile while forcing a piece down my throat. Until then, I’ll enjoy the fried dumplings and herb stuffing I can’t get enough of.
The impressive spread on the table is a combination of American, Japanese, and Nigerian food. Briefly, I wonder what Davi’s Thanksgiving table might look like. Then I push the thought away.
“Please pass the jollof,” Adrian says with a big grin.
“I’m scared if I do, there’ll be none left for the rest of us,” Esosa says.
“Well, it’s not like we’re short on food, so come on. Hand it over.”
After rolling her eyes, Esosa extends the dish of rice to him.
Dinner continues with the adults speaking among themselves and Naomi interjecting, assertively expressing the brilliance she’s gained from three months in college. Esosa isn’t talking to me and doesn’t say much these days anyway, not even to Adrian. Her eyes shift between her plate and her phone, while Adrian’s eyes shift around the table in search of what to eat next. The only reason he’s not speaking is because his mouth is full to the brim.
When dinner is over, Naomi and I sprawl out on the couch in the living room and watch highlights of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Esosa is upstairs in Adrian’s room, while the adults are having tea in the den. I avoided eating my slice of pie by telling Naomi I was too full. But knowing my cousin, she’ll likely hold me down and try to shove a piece into my mouth before the day ends.
“Hey.” She turns to me, and I’m scared the time for pie has finally come. “I’m really sorry you’re leaving,” she says instead. She sits up and tousles her long, curly hair. “It’s really messed up.”
I try to hold a neutral expression like I do whenever someone brings up the topic. “My mom thinks it’s for the best.” It’s the response I’ve learned to recite.
“Yeah, but it still sucks. With me being at college, we haven’t really had much time together. But I at least thought we had all the time in the world. I thought maybe you could come down to Cambridge one weekend. To visit. None of my friends believe Enore Enchanted is my cousin.” She rolls her eyes. “Oh, that reminds me.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket and presses her face against mine. “Come on. Smile.”
When she tickles me, I laugh for the first time in days. It’s forced— prompted by Naomi’s wriggling fingers rather than emotions—but it feels good regardless.
“Ahh. There you go.” She takes a few selfies, then swipes through each. “This one’s my favorite.” She shows me a picture where we’re both laughing with our mouths open. When she looks up, she watches me for a long while, then sighs. “I’m sorry you have to go. But we’ll stay in touch, right? We’ll talk, and I’ll come visit. I promise.”
I don’t know my cousin very well. She visited Nigeria with her family once, years ago. And for the two weeks, we got along well. Then when my family and I moved to America, she had to go to college. She texted a few times while away, but our conversations were usually brief. All our lives, our interactions have been brief. Now I wonder if we’ll ever get to build a relationship. I think if given the chance, an extensive period to know each other, we could be more than cousins. We already have one thing in common.
“I love your movies,” I tell her.
“My movies?”
“Yeah. The collection of teen movies.”
“Ahh.” She smiles. “You found the box.”
“Adrian gave it to me. They helped.”
“Helped? With what?”
“High school.”
She squints and nods slowly. “Yeah. I could see how. Would you like to take some with you when you… leave? Maybe some of your favorites?”
“No. That’s okay. I won’t need them there.”
We go back to watching highlights from the parade. The Santa Claus float appears just as Uncle Davis enters the room. He clears his throat while standing over me and Naomi.
“Um… hey, guys.” He glances at the television and then back at us. “Naomi, can I please have a moment with your cousin?”
Naomi looks between me and her father and then stands. “Sure. I’m due for another slice of pie, anyway.”
When she leaves the room, Uncle Davis sits beside me. With his thumbs twiddling, he gives me sidelong glances while keeping his head straight, toward the TV. I’ve never seen my uncle so uncomfortable. Is he preparing to deliver bad news, trying to find the guts to say something difficult?
“Uncle? Is everything okay?”
He turns to me slowly and sighs. “Enore, I feel like I have failed you and Esosa.”
“Huh? What are you talking about?”
After a long pause, he continues. “I never thought things would end up like this—with your mother deciding to return to Nigeria. To me, the decision is absurd. I’ve spoken to her extensively, tried to make her change her mind, but…” He runs his hand over his face and huffs. “She’s set on leaving.”
“That isn’t your fault, Uncle. I’m the one who pushed her to that decision.” Me and only me. “I lied to her—so many times.”
“Enore, you did not always make the right decisions. But maybe you would have with some guidance from me. I should have been more present as you adjusted to everything, especially school.”
“You have been present. You pick me up from choir practice. And on Sundays, we always go out for frozen yogurt.”
“But I’ve been tiptoeing around you and Esosa, afraid to say the wrong things. You two have already been through so much. I just wanted to find ways to make you both happy.”
“And you have.”
“I should have done more, especially since I knew the real reason your father wanted you to come to America.”
“The real reason?” I shuffle closer to my uncle. “What do you mean?”
“Do you know how long I begged your father to move to America? Years. He was always opposed to the idea. I think moving, especially at his age, frightened him. Your mother was a doctor at a top hospital, your father loved his job and had other thriving side businesses. He was comfortable in Nigeria and scared moving to another country would mean starting all over again. He wasn’t ready for that.”
“But then he agreed to move,” I say.
“Yes, because of you.”
“Me?”
My uncle nods. “He thought you had an exceptional talent. He thought America would provide the resources to nurture that talent and give you a broad range of career choices. That’s why he wanted to come. For you.”
I’m not sure how to process that information. My father was willing to give up everything, including his comfortable and stable life, for me. I’m shocked by his selflessness and even more shocked by how much he believed in me. I didn’t truly understand the extent of it until now.
“Enore.” Uncle Davis holds my hands. “I’m sorry I didn’t do enough to fulfill his wishes. Maybe if I had been more involved, more present, you would have confided in me—told me about the musical and Juilliard. If I had known about everything, we would have navigated things together. I would have spoken to your mother and tried to help her understand your choices. Maybe things would be different right now.”
Maybes aren’t certainties. They’re imaginary realities.
This is my first and last Thanksgiving in America. My mother is disappointed in me. My sister isn’t speaking to me. I am no longer in the school musical. I will never attend Juilliard. Davi is no longer my boyfriend. These are the facts, my reality.
I can’t entertain anything else.