Going home is always hard for me. This time, it was Friday evening, and I was driving into the town I grew up in for my dad's birthday dinner on Saturday. It was his 60th. He wanted "the whole family" here this year- me, my mom, my brother, his wife, and their toddler. This was oil on troubled waters; he and I had always had a rocky relationship when I was at home. It had only gotten better since I'd moved three hours away and only came home for family High Holy days: Christmas, Thanksgiving, and my parents' milestone birthdays. It really is better this way. At least we're all happy with the way things are.
As soon as I pulled into the driveway, my parents' dog ran out to greet me, baying at my Volkswagen. Dad's truck wasn't in, so he must have been at work. My mom came out onto the porch and hugged me. I grabbed my bag from the backseat of the car and was ushered inside.
Inside fifteen minutes, I'd unpacked and headed to the kitchen to help my mother make dinner. She had a big glass of wine and a pile of green beans that needed snapping. If that wasn't a calculated attempt to create an opportunity to talk about my love life, I don't know what is.
"So, Claire," she started. "Are you seeing anybody?" She was slicing potatoes and putting them in a casserole.
"No, Mom."
"Well, you should. It's not like you're getting any younger." She polished off the glass of wine and pours herself another.
"Well, it's not that simple."
"Oh, honey. I just want you to have somebody. You know, like your brother does."
"Well, Mom, it's not like I can accidentally knock up a girl like Aaron did. It's not even close to the same thing." I snapped the last green bean and dropped it into the steamer basket.
"Claire, honey, it's just been so long since you brought someone home to meet us. Not since, what was her name, Jenna?" My college girlfriend. "Two years ago?"
"Yeah. It was." I inhaled deeply and my eyes welled up a little. "Look, Mom, I've got to, um, go. Meet someone. I've got to go meet somebody. One of the girls from school." It didn't sound convincing but I got up and left anyway.
Not knowing what to do, I went for a walk. There was a bar a couple of blocks away on the main street, and I headed that way and went in. It smelled like old cigarettes and spilled beer. The lights were mercifully dim. In the corner nearest the door, a battered jukebox was playing early-90s Metallica. The bartender, Sonja, had been there since I was one of the pain-in-the-ass teenagers trying to sneak in to buy wine coolers. I walked over to the bar and ordered a rye and coke, and Sonja delivered. And that was when I saw her. Jennifer.
She was drinking alone, nursing a Budweiser, shredding the label and leaving it in a pile of shredded paper on the bar. I hadn't seen her in years, at least since Aaron had graduated and moved away. She hadn't changed much. She was hunched over the bar and her long, blonde hair spilled over her shoulders and over her eyes. She was still beautiful. I must have been staring too hard because she looked up at me and the most wonderful look of surprise came over her face. She came over as I knocked back my drink.
"It's been a long time, stranger," she said, a sly smile creeping across her face. She climbed up on the stool next to me and leaned in so that I could hear her over the plaintive strains of "Nothing Else Matters". I could smell some kind of exotic oil in her hair- ylang ylang, maybe- and I had to resist the urge to bury my face in her neck. "Do you want another drink?" She gestured with her eyebrows at my empty glass.
