by Blair Holden
And I can’t be mad at him anymore because honestly, his behavior, as childish and as ridiculous as it’d been, comes from a place of love. For a girl who’s seen enough indifference to last a lifetime, the fact that Cole cares and cares so much somehow means the world.
That still doesn’t mean that he can get away with acting like a petulant child, and so I plot my revenge, after we get back to my room as soon as possible, though.
***
Being in your parents’ house, in the town you grew up in with the people who’d been there to witness it all, is a little strange. I haven’t really lived here for a long stretch of time for what seems like years. Summers in college were spent interning and squeezing in short holidays with Cole and with my friends whenever we could. Sure, I’d come home for the holidays and go see my mom when the occasion called for it, but it’s been a while since I’ve been in Farrow Hills for a while or considered it home. Even now, knowing that I’ll be gone by Sunday, the feeling of being here is still odd, and it doesn’t help that Dad has invited the Stones over for Thanksgiving dinner tonight before everyone has distant family over during the weekend.
I’m a grown woman, or so I like to think. At twenty-two, I work for a reputable magazine, although half the time I question what on earth I’m even doing there; I live on my own, even if it’s in a place that constantly reports my whereabouts to my father. I even manage to stock my fridge with more than just chocolate and deep-frozen chicken nuggets. That, I can attest, is the true sign of having developed into an adult successfully, as some would argue.
So the fact that I’m sulking into my plate, with my bottom lip practically quivering, watching the so-called adults at the table attempt to have a civil conversation really sets me back.
“Cole’s been doing really well in school,” Cassandra proudly claims.
The sheriff is preoccupied with his food but he nods. “Yeah, we’re hearing great things.”
“I’ve only been there for two months, guys, nothing pretty pathbreaking has happened yet.”
I snort.
“But honey, we’re all so proud of how focused you are right now.” Cassandra is sitting directly opposite me and I can feel her gaze rest on my face for a second before she moves on to Cole. He knows this isn’t easy for me and even now, he senses that the next couple of words to come out of his stepmother’s mouth won’t be kind to me, so he slips his hand into mine, where it’s clenched on my thigh beneath the table, and grips it tightly.
“We knew you’d do so well when there were no distractions.”
It’s a dig at me, you’d need to have the IQ of a flea to not understand that, but it still hurts. I’m not the only person who’s taken aback by such a direct attack because the sheriff’s fork clatters noisily onto his plate. Dad, who sits at the head of the table, opens his mouth to speak at the same time.
“Now Cass...”
“I just meant that, I’m happy that the two of them are focusing on their careers right now, that’s all. I read your recent article, Tessa, who knew there were so many different kinds of eyeshadows out there right now?”
It’s been one jab after another, and I might actually leave this dinner table with physical bruises after all the insults she’s been hurling at me. I get it, she thinks my job is stupid, and even though I’ve never quite fit in at my workplace, I’m still proud of myself for working hard and for not giving up even though I found myself in untested waters. But I know what she’s insinuating, and I won’t lie and say that it doesn’t affect me. The fact that my job involves writing about makeup and that Cole’s putting himself through law school has never bothered me before, but now I see it from step monster’s perspective. She thinks he could do better, find a nice lawyer girl to have nice lawyer babies with. I can see the disdain dripping off of her. Apparently, Cassandra has a lot to say about my career choices, and belittling me seems to have become her newfound hobby. I don’t take the bait though, because I’d rather this dinner go over smoothly and that, more importantly, Thanksgiving and the engagement party don’t take place under hostile conditions.
“Mom...” Jay warns, surprising me. He’s been sitting quietly minding his own business so far, but he must have seen the storm brewing inside Cole. There’s a hint of barely restrained anger in his voice. It seems as though he’s had enough as well.
She raises her hands, palms up as though that’ll excuse her behavior. “I meant no harm. I’m just curious about what Tessa does. A beauty magazine? Is that what you really wanted to do with your degree?”
“Venus is a top-selling magazine, Cassandra, and I happen to be very proud of my daughter for all that she’s doing there.” Dad uses his mayor voice, the kind that dares people to retaliate and argue with him. It demands a certain respect and carries a sense of authority, so Cassandra’s forced to shut it for the rest of dinner. My dad’s definitely risen to the role of being my hero these days, even if it’s later in life. I wish that his girlfriend, Danielle, were here, just so that he’d have someone to back him up, but she’s gone to New Haven to visit her family. I decided that the moment she comes back, I’ll lock the two in a room and force Dad to finally ask her that one question he’s really been wanting to.
Do I want a double wedding in the family? No, but what I do want is for my dad to not be all alone anymore.
The Stones refuse dessert and rush out. I know the sheriff is embarrassed by his wife’s behavior and does try to apologize on her behalf but I wave it off. I’m past the point of letting pettiness get to me, or so I think. After seeing his parents off, Cole comes back to me looking all kinds of guilty.
“Stop it, you didn’t do anything.” The poor guy looks tormented.
“She promised me that she wouldn’t pull stunts like that again. I never would have brought her to your home if I knew...”
I wonder if I should tell him about the little trip she paid me while I was lying on my deathbed but I decide against it.
I rest my head against his chest and let him hold me. “I don’t want to cause your family problems.”
“You’re not.”
“I’ll also keeping hanging out with Jay because it’s comfortable and sometimes I need a friend.”
He’s quiet for what feels like a really long time.
Then, a weighed sigh escapes him and it’s as though he’s waving a white flag. “Fine, I won’t kill him for knowing where you keep your fine china.”
“That sounds dirty.”
“Believe me, I did not want it to.”
“Would you like to see my fine china, though?”
And that’s when my dad chooses to announce his entrance into the room with a rather loud cough.
Little did I know that worrying about Jay’s life would be the least of my problems this holiday break.
Chapter Eleven: Let a Higher Power Take the Wheel and Drive My Car off a Cliff
It’s official.
I have now reverted back to being a teenager who has severe confidence issues and hides away in her bedroom before the start of every holiday. I can smell the turkey and the gravy and the pie, but my destination of choice this morning is hiding beneath a fort of blankets.
Why, you ask, am I channeling the Tessa of TNE or “The Nicole Era,” as I like to call it, well, it’s because I’ve got not one but both of my parents.
Under the same roof.
As Carrie Underwood likes to say, let higher powers take the wheel and drive my car off a cliff.
Mom wasn’t supposed to show up until Saturday, the day of the engagement party, and even when she did, she’d be staying in a very nice hotel that I’d personally ensured she’d gotten a room in. Heck, the way that I’d planned it all out, she and my dad wouldn’t even have to make eye contact if they navigated the space around them extremely carefully. I’d considered drawing Dad a map so that he could be aware of where Mom would be at all times. The less they saw one another, the less the chances of my becoming an orphan right before the holiday season officially kicked
off. Alas, you might as well hand me a bowl of porridge and call me Oliver Twist right now.
It’s the yelling that wakes me up, and I’m glad that I kicked Cole out before Mother Dearest arrived. He’s got his own family drama to take care of, and the last thing I want is for Cassandra to be sulking about Cole not spending the day with them. Ah, the Mother Stone is yet another thing that I need to worry about. I think it’s time the two of us had a conversation where I politely tell her to stop treating me like I’m some kind of a gold-digging succubus who’s going to turn her son’s life into a void of pain and misery.
Dramatic, but surely, that’s what she thinks, given the way she’s acting. If she chooses to not change how she feels toward me and my eyeshadow journalistic masterpieces, then I will happily remove her from my life, because with Leila and Amy, there’s literally no room in my life for terrorizing female figures of authority.
Back to the one woman who I can’t extract from my life that easily...
I hear the sound of glass shattering and, given that the two of them are now likely throwing sharp, pointed glass objects at one another, it’s time for me to intervene.
Nothing to worry about, folks, just another regular holiday weekend at the O’Connell residence.
***
I delay the inevitable by running myself an unnecessary bath and taking my time getting ready. I’ve also enlisted reinforcements and don’t even feel a little guilty for interrupting Travis and Beth’s love fest. They were supposed to come for dinner anyway, so they’ll just have to arrive a little earlier so that we’ve got both parents alive and well for his wedding.
“It can’t be that bad,” he tries to placate me over the phone, and I can hear Beth singing in the background. Singing! I’ve always loved my brother for what he’s been able to do for Beth and the happiness he’s brought to her life. But since the engagement, that happiness has been on a whole other level. Beth positively radiates with joy and it’s infectious being around her, also dangerous because now that she’s engaged, she thinks it’s okay to drag me into Tiffany’s to look at rings.
Nope, not ready.
Besides, I already have a ring that I still haven’t told anyone about.
“Oh, but it is bad,” I return to the conversation, “Ray isn’t even here yet and Dad’s made ten jokes about Cougar Town. One more and Mom’s going to blow a gasket.”
“Okay then, why don’t you stop hiding in your room like I know you are and try to get them to act civil? They promised they wouldn’t pull a stunt this weekend.” In a much lower voice he adds, “You know I want things to be special for Beth, right?”
“Of course I do, and I’d never let them do anything to take away from your special day, but just...please get here soon. I don’t think I can wrestle both of them to the ground at the same time.”
He laughs because he thinks I’m kidding.
I’m not.
I walk into the living room prepared to find utter carnage, but what I see instead is definitely more eerie. You know how with psychopaths and serial killers, the scariest part is that they can act so normal at times that you don’t really expect it when they chop your head off and stuff you into the trunk of their car? I mean, at least if you’re a normal, everyday criminal, you publicly exhibit tendencies that ward people off. The kind of people that I’m talking about? Yeah, you’ll never see it coming, and the next thing you know, you’re dead and likely to end up in said psychopath’s basement as a trophy.
That’s how my parents are acting.
They’re sitting on opposite sides of the room. Dad in an old armchair and Mom seated on the edge of the couch, daintily sipping her tea. The vibe of the room is definitely off, like they heard me coming and stopped mid-attack. But both of them look composed, not a hair out of place, absolutely pristine. I inspect the place for damage and find none.
“I’m sure I heard something shattering a while ago.” I eye them suspiciously. Mom continues to drink her tea as though she’s dining with the Queen of England, and Dad averts his eyes, pretending to check the time on the watch he’s forgotten to wear.
No wonder I’m such a horrible liar, these are the people I come from.
“I think you’ve started hearing things, Tess. Maybe it’s all the quiet after coming back from that maddening city with all that noise. Noise pollution can be really detrimental to your health,” Mom says with all seriousness, and I don’t even have words for how bizarre this situation is.
“Are you two okay?”
“Sure.”
“We’re fine.”
“Uh huh. Well, I’m going to go to the other room and make sure everything’s set for dinner. I’ll be right there, just a few feet away. Remember that, okay?”
“Oh, for God’s sake, we’re not barbarians, Tessa.” She rolls her eyes and Dad coughs.
“The last time I left the two of you alone, I came back to find Dad drenched in tequila and your hand wrapped so tightly around his neck, I thought he was already dead.”
True story, and to add to the utter embarrassment of the night, it’d also been a funeral for my great-great Aunt Cindy and, suffice it to say, my parents had diverted the attention from the dead lady.
I can’t let them do that to Travis and Beth.
“Those were extenuating circumstances, honey. I forgot that your mother doesn’t take kindly to being reminded that she still needs to pay me back for all the medical bills of hers that I’ve covered recently. Plus, she doesn’t even want to discuss that the term medical is a bit loosely used, because I wouldn’t call augmentation of one’s brea—”
“Dad, stop!” I cover my ears. “Let’s not get into that right now.” I glance at Mom and of course she’s glowering in her seat while subtly tugging at her silk blouse. The fact that she’s gotten a ton of work done since the divorce isn’t the problem, it’s the fact that my dad loves to remind her of it and that she’s not the twenty-something she’s been trying so hard to convince everyone that she is. It doesn’t help that Danielle is much younger than Mom and so the entire situation has turned into a shit show.
“Travis and Beth will be here any minute, and you know how hard we’re all trying to make sure this weekend is the happiest one of their lives yet. So please, behave yourselves.” It’s lucky I went on a Harry Potter binge-watch a few days ago because I feel very Umbridge and uppity right now. Maybe that’s what prompted me to put on a pink dress today.
Like two thoroughly scolded toddlers, my parents retreat to their respective spaces that I’ve cordoned off for them and I make sure that the catering company is on schedule with our meals.
Today is not the day I allow any member of this family to be in the vicinity of fire.
“Mom.” I find her in the backyard, glancing longingly at the flowers she’d planted and looked after so carefully in the years before the divorce. Kudos to my dad for making sure that the gardener still took good care of them, because I think Mom nearly sheds a tear as she runs her hand across the lilies. I let her have her moment before approaching her.
“Hey, you okay?” She nods but doesn’t meet my eyes. Since her unexpected arrival this morning, I’ve suspected that something’s wrong, but of course I’d been so preoccupied with making sure that I have a living, breathing set of parents that I haven’t even asked her what’s wrong.
So I do.
She smoothes the imaginary creases off of her on-trend wide-leg pants and rests her fingers on the diamond necklace around her neck. She’s adorned from head to toe in what appears to be thousands of dollars, and yet from the look on her face, you’d think she’d lost everything in a fire. I don’t pretend to understand what exactly it is that makes my mother happy. She certainly made it clear that family wasn’t a priority when she left my dad and thought that it meant ridding herself of any responsibility toward her kids as well. She’s dated a lot of men since, mostly younger, but she’s not stuck with one for longer than a few months. Then she met Ray, who’d ideally be the perfect m
an for her, but sometimes I get the feeling that even now, even when she’s being ridiculously spoilt by the man of her bank account’s dreams, she’s still not happy.
“Yes,” she forces a smile, “silly me, just being sentimental, that’s all. It’s so hard to believe that my little boy’s engaged and we’re actually hosting his engagement party soon. I guess it just made me think about you two growing up and this house. There are so many memories here.”
I stay quiet because it’s what seems appropriate. “I know I don’t say it nearly enough, Tessa, but I’m...I’m so proud of who you’ve grown up to be.” She touches my cheek and I feel like I’ve been sucked into a black hole and transported into a universe where my mother is actually motherly and Cassandra Stone is the she devil.
Wait, that universe is this one. How weird, and something my seventeen-year-old self would have never believed.
“Mom...is everything okay between you and Ray?”
She withdraws her hand and turns away. Oh no, not a good sign, but I can’t stop talking. “He was supposed to come here with you...did you guys fight?”
She laughs as though that is such an endearingly stupid question.
“Ray and I, we don’t fight, because he doesn’t have the time and I don’t have the energy,” she explains as we start walking back to the house. My watch tells me that Travis will be here any minute, and I’m hoping that whatever it is that’s making Mom act so weird, she’ll be able to get it off her chest before he arrives.
“When you’re my age and still single, you start looking for different things in a partner and in a relationship. With Ray, I had none of the expectations I had from your father and which he miserably failed to meet. Today, for example, is all about celebrating your brother, and Ray wasn’t very comfortable with the idea that he’d be participating in the festivities involving my very grown son.”
I hate men, someone needs to wipe out the entire gender from the planet. Well, maybe all except one.
The fact that Ray likes to pretend that his girlfriend isn’t the mother of two people in their twenties isn’t new to me. I took one look at the guy and knew that he wanted to show off my mother, parade her around like she’s the latest model of an Audi and that he’s the sole owner. Of course he wouldn’t want it to be common knowledge that she’s got a son and a daughter who’re perhaps closer in age to him than he thinks. Still, knowing that he’s making her feel guilty and worse, bad about herself, makes my blood boil. All the surgeries and procedures start making sense. How many men has she dated that make her doubt herself, stunning as she is, and force her to change herself for their pleasure?
