When the Thanksgiving Day Parade ended, Eleanor let the television run as background noise, while she worked on a 275-piece Whitman jigsaw puzzle that her father had sent her called Off to the Chase. It had a picture of a red-coated Englishman on a horse surrounded by hound dogs out on a hunt. Working a puzzle was a holiday tradition that she had shared with her father until she left for Howard, and as Eleanor’s fingers moved over the pieces, pressing them into place, she felt at peace.
The sun was long gone when Eleanor drew herself a hot lavender bath, and it wasn’t until she sank into the soapy water that her brain started clicking. It was as if the steam from the bath loosened the barrier she had constructed around her mind that blocked Theodore’s engagement party out.
Knowing Rose, Eleanor was sure the engagement party was taking place at the fanciest venue where Negroes were permitted. The table would be set with elaborate sprays of flowers, illuminated with white pillar candles. All the guests would be draped in their finest clothing, trendy hats, gold watches and sparkly jewels.
Theodore Pride, whom Eleanor had only met a handful of times because he lived in New York, would sit at the helm with his lovely bride-to-be smiling up at him, much to Rose Pride’s delight.
Her darling William would be wearing his navy morning suit that had been tailored just right. Greta would be seated across from him. Eleanor could picture it: Greta’s straight hair twirling off her shoulders and a sweetheart neckline boosting her cleavage. Whenever William made one of his jokes she would lean forward and giggle, giving him a peek of what she had to offer. All while her eyes conveyed: I am a much better lay than your wife. Let me show you.
All the families present at the party were rooted in similar histories. They had attended the same universities—Spelman, Morehouse, Hampton and Howard—and run in the same social circles and intermarried for generations.
As Eleanor scooped water over her face, she tried to keep from imagining the worst. William loved her and that was all that mattered. She had a beautiful roof over her head, and they were having a baby. It didn’t matter where it came from, the child would be theirs and they would love it. Nothing at that engagement dinner could change that, not even Greta.
On Friday, Eleanor ignored the turkey still in the fridge and made herself some Aunt Jemima pancakes. As she poured a dribble of warm syrup over her plate, she was startled by a knock at the back door. It was Bernie, peering through the glass. Eleanor hadn’t put on her stomach paddings, so she turned her back and hurried from the kitchen, hoping he wouldn’t get a glimpse of her flat belly through the sheer curtains. When she returned to let him in, she reminded herself to waddle.
“Bernie! I wasn’t expecting you today,” she said with too much glee in her voice, and she saw him blush under her attention.
“Sorry to disturb you. The boards for the shelving unit just came in and I wanted to make sure they fit while I had my friend’s truck.”
“Come on in, it’s freezing,” she said, closing the door behind him. “I was just having breakfast. Would you like some pancakes?”
He looked at her incredulously. They had become quite friendly over the past few weeks, chatting about music, his childhood in Grenada, her work at the library, but to eat together was too familiar. Eleanor bit her bottom lip, knowing that her loneliness had loosened her tongue.
“No, ma’am, I just ate. If it’s all right with you, I’m just going to get the boards from the truck and carry them up.”
Eleanor got out of the way and returned to her food at the kitchen table. Bernie hummed as he moved up the stairs, and the sound comforted her. After she wolfed down her pancakes and washed the dishes, she couldn’t help herself from going upstairs.
“Mind if I sit?” She pointed to the rocking chair that had been delivered a few days earlier.
Bernie had rolled up his sleeves, exposing his muscular mocha arms, and she wondered for the umpteenth time about his family. Where did he live? Was he married with children? Or alone.
“As long as your husband don’t mind,” he said, then called over his shoulder, “the fumes and all from the paint.”
“It’s dry by now.”
“It is but the smell lingers.”
“I’ll be fine. My husband went to New York for his brother’s engagement party. I couldn’t travel in my condition.”
“You spent Thanksgiving alone?” Bernie moved toward the window and opened it, letting in a sliver of fresh air.
“All my family lives in Ohio. But it wasn’t so bad,” she added. “How was yours?”
“Not a holiday that we celebrate. I just got together with some friends and played cricket.”
“Did you eat turkey and collard greens?” she chuckled.
“Naw. We had chicken, rice and peas. Few slices of avocado.”
“Avocado?”
“You never had one before?”
“No.”
“We’ll have to fix that,” he said with his singsong laugh.
As the minutes drifted into hours, they fell into an easy rhythm. Bernie sang his songs, and Eleanor handed him the screws, nails and hammer when he called for them. By late afternoon, all the shelving had been installed and the crib was nearly assembled.
Eleanor went downstairs as Bernie packed up, making trips out to the truck with his supplies. She was wondering how she’d spend the rest of the evening when Bernie returned through the back door with something in his hand.
“This is an avocado, ma’am.” He held the dark green oval-shaped object out to her. “All you have to do is slice it in half, scoop out the inside and mash it with a little salt.”
“Is it a vegetable or fruit?”
“Fruit. My mother always said, an avocado a day keeps the doctor away.”
“Mine would say an apple.” Eleanor brought the strange fruit to her nose.
“Well, since you brought it, I insist you share it with me before you go.” She went to the drawer and pulled out a knife, a spoon and a cutting board.
“Do you serve it with crackers?”
“You can. Or vegetables, like carrots or peppers.” He was a tall man, and his presence filled the space.
Eleanor reached into the icebox and pulled out a bunch of freshly chopped carrots. “My mother just told me that I needed to eat more vegetables.”
Bernie picked up the spoon and dished a little avocado onto each of their plates. They stood at the counter, dipping carrot sticks in the avocado. It was creamy and much more delicious than she had imagined.
“That is good.”
“Told you.” Bernie chewed.
“So, do you have family here?” she asked innocently.
“Something like that” was all he offered, and Eleanor wondered, a sister, a brother, a wife?
Just then, the back door creaked open and William walked in, carrying his traveling bag. Bernie stepped back from the counter as William looked from one of them to the other.
“Honey, you’re home early,” Eleanor said. “I thought you said Saturday.”
“Evening, Mr. Pride.” Bernie nodded toward William, and then he carried his plate to the sink. “I had better go.”
“Thanks for the avocado,” Eleanor called after him as a gush of wind blasted through the open door.
William dropped his bag and locked the back door. Then he turned his attention to Eleanor. “What was that?”
“What was what?” Eleanor took another bite of avocado and carrot.
“You eating with…”
“Bernie. His name is Bernie, and he was just sharing an avocado with me.”
“That all you do?”
“Are you serious?” She looked up at him, and when she realized that he was for real, her anger spiked quick as a hot flash. “You come in here accusing me when you’ve been off in New York doing God knows what?”
“I was at my brother’s engagement party.”
“With Greta,” she spat before she could stop herself.
“What does she have to do with anything?”
“Oh, give it a rest. I know she still has a thing for you. Your mother won’t let me forget it. I bet she was in your face all weekend, happy that you left your little pregnant wife at home.”
“Unlike you I have nothing to hide,” he said steely-eyed, and his meaning was not lost on Eleanor.
She hissed between clenched teeth, “And I was just being polite.”
“Standing around the kitchen sharing food like old pals is more than just polite, especially when I’m out of town. He shouldn’t have been here.”
“Jealousy doesn’t suit you.”
“Dishonesty doesn’t suit you,” he said, grabbing up his bag and heading for the stairs. “You should know better.”
It was crystal clear to Eleanor that this argument was about more than the avocado. She pushed her plate to the side and cut him off in the upstairs hallway.
“Have you ever spent a major holiday alone, William?”
“You knew what we were getting into when we started this.”
“We? More like me, William. I’m the one cooped up in this house day and night, hour after hour, while you are out having the time of your life.”
He unfastened the shirt buttons around his wrist, color rising in his face. “I spend my days and nights at the hospital so that I can become a doctor and support you. Plus, let’s not forget that this was your idea to hide out in the first place.”
“So as not to embarrass you!”
William stopped just beyond the doorway. Eleanor hadn’t made their bed that morning and William looked at her and shook his head. “I’m tired, it’s been a long day. Why don’t you go back and finish your avocado?”
Eleanor wanted to reach up and choke him, but instead she shouted, “Why don’t you take a long walk off a short pier!” then stormed out of the bedroom.