Destiny Plays

by Leslie Pike

  A collective Amen rises and hands are released.

  “Good one,” says Nash.

  “Thank you, Max! That was very sweet to include us,” Kate says.

  He gives her a smile in response.

  “Alright, everybody. Mangiare!!” my father orders.

  The table is crowded with the feast. Everyone had a hand in its day-long assembly, even Kate and me. Because of our lack of culinary skills, we chopped and stirred a lot. Anne helped set the table with Lana. Beautiful peonies she kindly brought my mother sit as centerpiece. The chocolates from Kate are for later.

  It’s noisy with conversation and the passing of bowls and plates. Alexander pours us all glasses of wine then takes his seat. Even the kids get a little taste.

  “I’d like to make a toast,” my father says, raising his glass. We follow his lead.

  “I see my life’s greatest treasures sitting here. Mi familia. Every day I thank God for sending each of you to us. And today we have two new friends at our table.”

  My mother nods her agreement across the table.

  “So, raise your glasses and drink to wonderful you! A la mi familia!”

  “Mi familia!” Fourteen voices and glasses lift with his.

  We begin the meal, and the conversation quiets for just a minute. Everybody wants to savor the first bites.

  Gregory downs his half goblet of wine. It doesn’t go unnoticed.

  “Slow down, Gregory. Savor the taste and the aroma. It’s not a Pepsi,” his grandfather says.

  Gregory gives an obligatory nod. Meanwhile, nobody’s noticed Max has almost done the same. But he wisely left a little behind. He sees me watching and laughs under his breath. He knows I’d never say anything. By his age Nash, Alexander and I were already stealing wine from the deli.

  “Remember when the little asshole ratted us out for taking the wine?” I say.

  That starts a whole conversation about Nikos’ dastardly deeds. I think he enjoys the reputation as much as we like retelling the stories. It’s especially fun when we have someone new to tell them to. Kate and Anne are a good audience.

  For the next hour and a half we laugh and eat and drink our way through the meal. Kate took two helpings of most dishes, and that alone makes her an honorary Santini. She’s happy here with us. It shows in her expression and in her eyes. She’s at ease. It’s easy to like her, and I can tell my family does. She’s a woman who listens when someone speaks to her. Really listens. When you have the undivided attention of your audience, it’s a compliment.

  “Little Thanks!” Max shouts over the voices.

  The whole table responds with claps and whistles and calls for Little Thanks. I use the distraction to slip my right hand under the tablecloth and onto Kate’s thigh. She tenses for a fraction of a second then relaxes. Her legs spread and I feel my cock twitch. I angle my body slightly towards her to hide what I’m up to. Then I feel her left hand under the cloth and around my hand. She brings it between her legs under her dress. I see the corners of Nikos’ mouth lift as he looks at us.

  Busted.

  “Okay! Okay!” says my mother holding up a palm. “Let’s explain ourselves to our guests.”

  Kate’s hand returns to her lap and mine retreats as well. In my haste to cover my tracks, I bang the underside of the table with the back of my hand. A fork crashes to the tile floor, and everyone looks my way. Nikos lets loose with a laugh.

  “Sorry. My bad,” I say picking up the utensil.

  “Get yourself another,” my mother says.

  I still have half a hard-on. I’m not going anywhere. “I’m good, Mom.”

  “Ladies, this is one of our traditions,” my father begins.

  Suddenly everybody has something to add, and it’s all aimed at Kate and Anne.

  “You can’t say anything big!” Max says.

  “It has to be something the person did for you,” Joseph adds.

  “Not necessarily. It could be what you like about them,” contradicts Alexander.

  “You’re making it too complicated. Just start it already,” says Nikos. “Christ.”

  “Everyone hold on! Let me explain,” hollers my father. But the chorus continues. He stands.

  We all shut the hell up when he bangs his two palms on the table for emphasis.

  “Alright. Now ladies, this is how it goes. We go around the table,” he says using his hands to demonstrate. “Each person tells the person to their left something they’re thankful for. Something that person they’re talking to did this year or said or whatever! Then that person turns to his or her left and does the same. And on and on. But it must be a little thing, a nicety.” He leans both hands on the table. “In other words, Little Thanks.”

  “No big things like loving or marrying, or any life-changing event. We’re looking for a detail,” says my mother.

  “Ha! You’re screwed!” Gregory says to Max, who sits next to Anne.

  “Gregory, watch your language.” Lana shoots him a look as she rocks a sleepy Boo.

  Max leans over to Nikos, and if I’m reading his body language right, flips Gregory off under the table.

  “Sounds like fun. I’m in,” Kate says.

  “Good!” My father looks around the table. “Who’s going first? Nash?”

  “Yeah. I’ll go.” He turns his chair towards Farrah and takes her hand. “Thank you my Farrah for your hair in my shower drain and your lipstick on the coffee cups. You leave little pieces of yourself all around the house. I like it.”

  She throws her arms around his neck and gives him a big kiss. Whistles and applause follow.

  “That was a nice one, brother,” Alexander says.

  Farrah gives Nash a final quick peck then turns her chair towards her father-in-law.

  “Thank you, Valentino, for something you said to me at the wedding reception. When we were dancing, you said you wished you would have known my parents because they raised such a fine woman. You said they must have been good themselves. And you were right. They were both so good. I was happy you knew that.”

  A tear streams down her face. “Oh no! I’m okay, I’m okay.”

  Nash takes her in his arms. My father looks kinda teary too. But it doesn’t take much for him.

  “See! This is beautiful!” he says, voice cracking. He turns to his left. “Oh! I have two. Lucky Papa. Lana, my beauty, thank you for being a confident woman. It speaks well of your mother and I.”

  Everyone laughs.

  “No, really. Any girl in a family of boys could have played the princess card. But that’s not you. You’re strong and not afraid to tell your father when he’s wrong. Just like you did last week. I like that about you.”

  He leans over and kisses the top of her head.

  “Thank you, Dad. Big thanks.” She blows him a kiss.

  “And Boo, you’re sleeping right now, but I thank you for that laugh you give me when I tickle you. You’re charming your papa.”

  “My turn,” says Lana. She angles her body towards her husband.

  “My Robert. Thank you for lying to me. After sixteen years working side by side in the deli, I know you smell salami and Gouda in my hair and on my skin every night. But you always tell me I smell like a flower.”

  Robert is smiling ear to ear, still under the spell my sister cast years ago.

  “You do smell like a flower. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  They kiss and then he turns to his son.

  “Gregory.”

  Gregory squirms in his seat. “Yeah?”

  “Thank you for all the times you roll your eyes at me and your mother.” Even Gregory laughs. “You know why I’m thanking you?”

  “No.”

  “Because it means we’re doing our job. We’re making you behave like a man should, with standards and rules. You don’t like it because you’re still part boy. But you’ll learn that the very things you’re annoyed with are what’s building character. So thank you and you’re welcome.”

&n
bsp; There’s applause from the entire family. Even Gregory is smiling as he says, “Whatever.”

  He turns to Nikos. “I’ve got a good one for you,” he says.

  “Here we go!” says Lana.

  “Thanks, Uncle Nikos, for that tip you gave me about girls and how to make them . . .” He looks around at the table and thinks twice about sharing the information. “Well, you know.”

  I can hear all thirteen of the gasps and annoyed comments.

  “Listen, mister man, you don’t make a girl do anything,” Lana says sharply.

  Nikos is just smiling. “That’s not true. I can make them do all kinds of fun things. They like it, I like it. It’s not like I’m forcing them.”

  I guess he does remember what his nephew’s talking about. No wonder they want to hang around him.

  “I want to know! Tell me,” Max says. But when he looks at Farrah’s face, he adds a caveat. “Later.”

  “I swear to God, Nikos, you need a muzzle,” Nash says.

  Nikos finds the entire conversation amusing. He turns to Max.

  “Okay, here it is. Next time you kiss a girl, put your . . .”

  He’s interrupted by the eleven other adults at the table who want to stuff a sock in his mouth.

  “Geez! Okay. You people need to calm down. These two aren’t kids anymore.” He turns to his nephew. “We’ll talk about it another time, Max. Let’s get back to the game. I’ve got a Little Thanks for you.” He puts a hand on Max’s shoulder. “Thanks for sending me all the pictures and videos of what’s happening in your life. It’s hard when you live away from family. A person can feel left out and a little lonely. But you’ve included me in it all. It means a lot.”

  Now we all love him again. The little asshole. It’s not often Nikos expresses the fact he misses us; Max responds with a wide smile.

  “My turn,” he says turning to Anne.

  She’s smiling at her young partner. “I don’t know what you could possibly say.”

  He thinks for a beat. “I got it.”

  He starts singing to her. “Row, row, row your boat. Gently down the stream . . .” He stops singing and holds out a hand towards her to continue.

  She pauses a few beats making sure she understands him. He prompts her with a pointed finger.

  “Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream,” Anne sings.

  “Little Thanks, Anne, for the duet,” he says. Then he breaks into laughter and so do the rest of us.

  We all applaud his quick thinking.

  “Clever!” says Nash, winking at his son.

  “You know what, Max? I think you have the soul of an entertainer,” Kate adds.

  “That’s so true,” Farrah says speaking to my father who nods in agreement.

  “Good one, kid,” says Nikos.

  “Now it’s my turn, but this one’s easy,” Anne says turning to Sophia. “Thank you, Sophia, for the most entertaining and delightful Thanksgiving I’ve had in years. I’m going to expect you and Valentino at next year’s Halloween party.”

  “My husband loves to dress in costume. We’ll be there.”

  “You wouldn’t believe the lengths she goes to, Mom. The decorations, food, everything,” Nash says. “What our family puts into Thanksgiving, Anne puts into Halloween.”

  Max raises his voice above the conversations. “I want to go!”

  “Us too,” says Alexander.

  “Everyone’s invited. I hope you all come,” Anne adds.

  “Okay. Now it’s to me. My dear Joseph,” Mom says taking his hand. “I can think of a hundred things to thank you for. I see the little things you do for my Alexander that maybe even he isn’t aware of. Only a person in love does that. So the Little Thanks I give today is for one of those things I happened to notice. Valentino and I watched the video of Alexander’s high school reunion. You danced all night long. But not once did I see you take the lead. And I know that’s a sticking point with you. But it’s also a thing for Alexander. I think you gave him that gift for his special night. Am I right?”

  “You are. We’re alike in that way, you and me. I’m learning from the best,” he says. They exchange cheek kisses.

  Then turning to my brother, “Little Thanks is my favorite holiday tradition thanks to the Santini family. So, out of the thousands of things I could thank you for, honey, I picked this. Little Thanks, Alexander, for all the last bites.”

  Alexander chuckles in recognition.

  “You always know which of your last bites I’m lusting after. It goes in this order. One. Your mother’s cannoli. Two. A peanut butter cup. Three. Rocky Road ice cream.”

  “My Valentino does that too.”

  “Of course I do, bella,” my father says.

  Alexander angles his chair to Kate and scoots it till he’s practically on top of her. He leans into her ear, but speaks in a loud enough whisper for all to hear. “We’ve got to talk.”

  All of us find this funny, including Kate. She plays along. “Lets.”

  “I’m not sure what you did to this one,” he says pointing in my direction, “but please keep doing it.”

  There’s laughter all around.

  “My Little Thanks to you is for whatever it is,” he says in air quotes, “Obviously, I’m unfamiliar with the female it, but apparently you’re in possession of it.”

  Everyone laughs.

  “And we’re so glad you have it because it’s brought the hermit back to us.”

  There’re comments from every person at the table. Each offers an addendum to my brother’s statement. I make my closing argument. “What’re you talking about?” I pretend.

  That brings another three minutes of rebuttal. In the end I just look into Kate’s emerald eyes and know Alexander’s made a compelling argument. In the course of one month she’s changed me, and it’s obvious to everyone here.

  There’s a sly smile of agreement on her face. She turns to me. “Mine is simple. Little Thanks to you, Christos, for reminding me what butterflies feel like.”

  I lift an eyebrow in acknowledgement of her statement then make eye contact with Alexander. “Trade seats with me,” I say getting up. There’s whistles and catcalls from every direction. Kate bites her bottom lip and smiles widely. Alexander follows my direction. Now Kate’s on my left.

  “And Little Thanks to you, Kate, for waiting all these years till I showed up.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I see Farrah’s hand go to her mouth and hear my mother’s intake of breath. Kate wraps her arms around me and holds tight.

  “I gladly give up my Little Thanks to hear you say that, brother,” Nash says.

  A late November evening spent under this veranda is a scene I’d like to find in the afterlife. I’d be happy if heaven included this exact setting. Looking out at dusk, the big Oak tree silhouetted against the backdrop of the deep purple Mayacama Mountains. Fluffy and OG lie against the trunk, their stomachs as full as ours. Nash tried to get us to stop feeding the dogs people food, but I saw at least five of us giving in to their pleading eyes.

  The women are here with me while all the men and boys are doing the cleanup. Lana says that’s her favorite Santini tradition. I lucked out this year. The women all fought for me to join them, and the men finally gave up when my father said, “Let the lovebirds be together.”

  Kate and I are curled up on the double chaise under a blanket, and our companions are stretched out on the couches and chairs. The steam from hot coffee and lattes rise from our cups.

  “While I’ve got you here, Christos, I want to pass something by you,” my mother says.

  When any of us Santinis hear my mother say ‘I want to pass something by you’, it means you’re about to be asked a favor. But rarely do any of us deny her requests. She’s done so much for us all.

  “What’s that?”

  “You know I’m a member of a book club, right?”

  “Yeah, you’ve mentioned it before.”

  “Every year at Christmas we chose a w
oman in crisis to help. Last year it was a victim of domestic violence.”

  “That’s great, Mom.”

  “This year we chose a low-income mother and child who are living in a motel for the time being.”

  I hear the sympathetic sounds all around me.

  “Where is this going?” I ask, already seeing the road ahead.

  “I want you to just give the mother some guidance. That’s all. I know you’re very busy. But they need someone who knows family law. The father walked away. She works in a minimum wage job while the thirteen-year-old girl stays by herself in the motel. Can you help?”

  Her heart is big, bigger than all the rest of ours put together. Over the years she’s taught us to be mindful of people who are less fortunate. But Sophia Santini outshines us all in that department. And I know my mother. Can you help means I expect it of you.

  “How awful,” Kate says.

  “I’m not asking you to do pro-bono legal assistance. Just talk with her. Her name’s Barbara.”

  There it is. She’s asking for me to represent this woman and her child, pro-bono.

  “Alright. I’ll talk to her,” I say knowing any other answer would be futile. Besides, maybe she’s right and I can help.

  “Thank you, darling. Big thanks.”

  I feel the squeeze of her hand.

  Farrah speaks up. “Kate, I’ve got a request too. But you can say no if you want. No pressure.”

  “I’ll do it if I can. What is it?”

  “Max’s drama class is going to be putting on A Midsummer Night’s Dream next May. Every year they perform for the parents and friends. He’s playing Puck.”

  “That’s awesome, Max!” Kate says turning to him. “I’m going to be sorry to miss that. I go back on tour for rehearsals at the end of December.”

  My stomach drops as her voice trails off. It’s not that I was unaware. It’s just the shock of hearing it voiced. I see the surprise on everyone’s faces.

  “Damn! I didn’t know. I was going to ask if you wanted to be involved. I thought maybe you could at least be a guest speaker,” Farrah says.

  “Is it a certainty you’re going?” my mother asks.