he did go out with women who looked like whores. So what? They were nicer to him than anyone in his family had ever been. And they didn't give him any shit. All they wanted was boob jobs and new noses, and a couple of shots at his charge cards. And Maggie didn't even want that. She wanted nothing except him. His father woke up then and looked around. He saw Adam standing in the middle of the room.
“What's happening? What's going on?” No one in the room was moving. They were all looking at Adam. He turned to speak to his father.
“I'm leaving. I can't do this anymore.”
“Sit down,” his mother said, the way she would have if he'd been five years old and stood up at the wrong time. This wasn't the wrong time. It was the right one. And it was long overdue. Maggie was right. He shouldn't have come. He should have stopped coming years ago. If they couldn't respect him, if they didn't care who he was, and didn't even see him, if they thought he deserved all the shit Rachel had put him through and still was, then maybe they weren't his family after all, or didn't deserve to be. He had his kids, that was all he wanted, and they weren't there anyway. These people were strangers to him, and always had been. And they wanted it that way. He no longer did. He was forty-one years old, and he had finally grown up. It was time.
“I'm sorry, Dad,” he said calmly. “I just can't do this again.”
“Do what?” His father looked confused. The cold pills had addled him a bit, but not as much as it looked. Adam sensed that he knew exactly what was going on, but wasn't going to deal with it. He never did. It was easier not to. Today was no different. “Where are you going?”
“I'm going home,” Adam said, looking around the room at the people who had never failed to make him miserable for years. They had never let him in. So now he was choosing to stay out.
“You're sick,” his mother said as Mae stood in the door, not sure whether to announce lunch or not. “You need a doctor. You need medication. You need a therapist, Adam. You're a very sick man.”
“Only when I come here, Mom. Every time I leave here, I have a knot in my stomach the size of my head. I don't need to come here and feel sick anymore. I'm not willing to do it. Happy Thanksgiving. Have a nice day,” he said then, turned, and walked out of the room. He didn't wait for further comment, or further abuse. He'd had enough. Mae caught his eye on his way out, and winked. No one tried to stop him, and no one said a word as he walked out the door. His nieces and nephews didn't know him. His family didn't care. And he didn't want to care anymore either, not for people who cared so little for him. He imagined that they sat staring at each other, as they heard the Ferrari drive away, and then they walked into the dining room. No one mentioned him again.
Adam gunned the car as he drove home. There was less traffic as he drove back into the city. He made good time, and was on the FDR Drive within half an hour, smiling to himself. For the first time in his life, he felt free. Truly free. He laughed out loud. Maybe his mother was right. Maybe he was nuts. But he had never felt less nuts in his life. And his stomach was feeling great. He was hungry. He was starving. And all he wanted now was Maggie.
He stopped at the supermarket on his way to her apartment. They had everything he needed. A prestuffed, precooked, prebasted, everything but pre-eaten turkey, with all the trimmings. He bought the whole shebang, cranberry jelly, sweet potatoes, biscuits that only needed to be warmed, mashed potatoes, peas, and pumpkin pie for dessert. For $49.99, he had everything he needed. Ten minutes later, he was ringing her doorbell. She answered in a cautious voice. She wasn't expecting anyone, and was stunned when she heard Adam. She buzzed him in immediately, and was wearing her nightgown when she opened the door to the apartment. She looked a mess, her hair wasn't combed, her face was streaked with mascara in patches. He could see that she'd