I had just graduated from College and moved back home for a couple of months until I got set up with an apartment. The anhedonia of life in the family home was starting to overwhelm me. I missed my friends and my freedom. I felt altogether too big to be back in my old bedroom, like it wasn't a part of me anymore.
My wonderful mother was revelling in having her little boy back home and had stepped back in time about ten years, treating me as though I was unable to do a single thing for myself. The novelty of this had worn off after a day. There was too much fussing, something my dad simply rolled his eyes at and with a good-humoured smirk told me to go along with.
This theme had extended to a reunion dinner with old family friends, the son of whom I had been raised with. Both families were much too excited to have everyone back together, all grown up. I did not share their enthusiasm. This was sure to be a chore.
Our parents had been friends for years and we were pushed together as children, him a nervous entity that ran crying to his mother at any given opportunity. He was a year younger than me and by the time I was fourteen we had firmly established that there was no mutual ground with which to be friends. As their visits loomed I would find any excuse to escape and it seemed he caught on to the trick as he too gained his own liberation.
Christmas cheer had to be mustered from somewhere. I was sure he would be just as reticent. Maybe he would bring his comics and hide behind his mother's armchair reading as he used to. Ha. Maybe it would be interesting to see if he had changed.
The day they were due for dinner I was working. I had spent the morning fixing the Christmas tree after my dad had thrown it up, and chucked whatever glittery things he could find over it. My mom wanted it to be special and I wanted to help her out. It was as if the President was visiting. The house was immaculate, mom was up early to start the preparations for the meal and truthfully after a morning of chores I was glad to have the excuse of employment to bow out of this mad house.
I had taken a job at the local library to tide me over and to help out with the extra cost of having me at home, something my mother only grudgingly accepted.
It was a small town so the job was not a busy one and I spent my days reading penguin classics. The building was an old stone nook with a bell above the front door and ceiling high shelves with ladders to reach the top. I loved it here. There was a large fire that I would sit at as I read, curled up with an eye on the door.
It was from this vantage point that I watched the snow as it began to float in the sky. Content with my settings, I knew there wouldn't be any interruptions in this weather. I wrapped my scarf round me, saving my neck from the draught and cradled a cup of coffee in the fire's glow. I was the only one working today and it wasn't until my cell vibrated itself off the side table with my mother's call that I realised I had lost track of time. I should have been home an hour ago to help with the last minute preparations for tonight's dinner. I put out the embers that remained and made my way to the door to lock up as I apologised to her.
I trudged through the snow to my car and defrosted it as best I could before setting off for home. In the dark with the headlights on the snow was flying toward me, making it difficult to see the road. I wondered if they would be able to make the hour long drive over for dinner. As I pulled into the drive I saw their car and knew that they had made it.
I knew my parents would have wanted me to change into something smarter for our guests and I had to prepare myself mentally both for the stern looks from them as they clocked my sweater torn at the neck and for the prospect of having to make awkward conversation when I was once again pushed together with him.
Dinner was uneventful, filled mostly with questions about long term ambitions. His parents were utterly lovely and polite as always and he seemed overwhelmingly uncomfortable, saying very little and scrutinising everyone's facial expressions, looking towards his parents before each sentence he offered. Nothing had changed.
Before the apple pie had been served it had been decided that they would stay the night, the snow having continued heavily did not make for safe driving conditions.
After dinner our parents made their way to the lounge telling us not to worry, we were allowed to go do something else instead of "listening to the oldies wittering on". I glanced at him from the corner of my eye before breathing out a laugh and telling him to follow me to the den. It was always warm in there and the ratty old sofa was the comfiest place in the house.
I told him to have a look through the DVDs and see if anything took his fancy - it was that or board games, and I couldn't see us getting down to a serious game of twister or scrabble. While he was perusing the shelves I brought through a couple of glasses of mulled wine and curled up on the sofa.
It was pretty late when I opened my eyes to find I had fallen asleep watching the movie. He was asleep too, breathing deeply and evenly, his knee touching mine. I don't know why but I waited for five minutes to wake him. I took in every feature in detail while listening to the DVD menu music play on loop.
I could hear that our parents had already gone to bed and gave him a gentle nudge to wake him and lead him to his room for the night where I left him.
I got to my room and fell onto my bed, unable now to sleep. This was partly to do with the cold that had seeped into the upper floor of the house and something else I couldn't put my finger on.
The house was finally silent, it had creaked its last and settled for the night. I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling, smoking, the ashtray balanced on my chest. The night hadn't been as horrific as I had thought. I was relieved, almost, that I had seen them all again after so many years. Funny. They were all totally the same.
There was a noise in the hallway and then my door opened. He stumbled into my room, smiling to himself. "Fuck, why would someone leave a pile of books in the hall to fall over in the dark?" He walked over towards my bed, replying to my confused look by holding up a bottle of bourbon "This was supposed to be a coping mechanism for the horrors of tonight. No need apparently." He threw himself onto the end of my bed, turned his head towards me and grinned.
"What's this? Smoking? Tut tut, and I thought you were a good boy!" He lifted the cigarette out of my slack hand and took a draw.
I could only stare at him. What had happened to the shy and retiring kid that I had been reintroduced to?
I closed my gawking mouth as he turned to look at me, raising an eyebrow. He blew a smoke ring and laughed. "What?!" he asked, grinning.
I had nothing to say so I simply stole my cigarette back and let him come up with a reply to his own question.
"Oh, come on! I'm not still some little prude who won't open his mouth to anyone. I grew out of that a long time ago, you just didn't ever give me the chance to show you that!" he accused. There was no malice behind his accusation and I was thankful for that. He kept his air of surprising good humour about him as he laughed at me again.
