Page 20 of Back Home For Christmas

“It’s dinner. I know you heard your brother calling,” Mom said, leaning in the doorway with her arms crossed, wearing one of her countless Christmas sweaters that could easily win the ugly contest. It was a familiar scene that she had assumed during so many of my talking-tos during high school. Why aren’t my grades better? Why don’t I take any honors classes? Why don’t I volunteer more? Why don’t I have ambitions like Darren? What are you going to do when you graduate? Photography won’t make you any money. Why can’t you be more practical like your brother? Seeing her like that only added to my anxiety. She only leaned like that when it was a conversation, I wanted to avoid.

“I’m not feeling great,” I said.

“Well, a good meal will help you feel better,” she said. “Come on.”

“I really don’t know if I am up for it,” I said.

“Catherine, you are only here for a week. You will eat dinner with your mother,” she said. I tried very hard not to revert back to a sixteen-year-old who slumped and whined and rolled my eyes, but it took all of my effort, and left me vulnerable to coercion. “Let’s go.” She invaded my space, grabbed my arm, and dragged me down the stairs. My vision spun a little with intoxication aided by anxiety, as I tried to prep for the disaster I was walking into, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t think clearly.

Dinner was at the dining room table, a mix of high-end fancy, Life and Style and quaint, rustic, Country Gardens. The end result meant your eyes didn’t have anywhere to settle at any given moment. Tall red candles in crystal holders sat in the middle around an elaborate poinsettia arrangement. The tablecloth was checkered red and green plaid with China plates covered in Christmas trees.

“Here we are,” mom announced cheerily as she took her seat at the head of the table.

All eyes turned to me when I walked in, and my cheeks grew warm. I kept my gaze down. There were two empty chairs. One next to Darren and one next to Jay. Pick your poison, I thought to myself. I decided on sitting next to Jay. That way I didn’t have to look him in the eye. My plan was to shovel food into my mouth as quickly as I could without barfing and run back upstairs to sleep for the rest of my life.

The scraping of my chair legs across worn out hard wood ground into my bones, giving everyone more reason to continue staring at me. Once I sat, I filled my plate with food and started sawing into the ham.

“Isn’t this nice?” mom said as she grabbed a scalloped potato dish and started passing.

“It’s very nice, mom,” Darren said.

“Thank you for cooking again, Mrs. Lane,” Jay said. “I keep saying that one of these days I am going to get you to let me cook a meal, so you can relax.”

I felt my face shifting to silently mock his words as I scooped potatoes onto my plate, despite my goal to fly under the radar. When I passed the potatoes onto Jay and looked up, Darren was shaking his head in disgust. I shrugged and mouthed, “What?”

“You know what?” he mouthed back. I rolled my eyes. Now I couldn’t even mock Jay? What was this world coming to?

“Don’t be silly. You are our guest. Besides, I enjoy cooking,” she said. Mom did not enjoy cooking. If you stepped foot into the kitchen at any point during her meal preparation, you would be screamed at and sent away. What she liked was the praise and recognition that came while everyone ate. She would never give that to Jay, no matter how much she liked him.

“Do any of you kids have a date for the Christmas party?” Dad asked and my wide eyes focused in on Darren, waiting to see what he would say anything. A moment of silence ticked by as I held my breath, willing Darren to say it so I could forget that Jay’s elbow kept touching mine every time he scooped food onto his plate. The delicate hairs running along my arm stood up every time we touched.

“Cat might be going with Steve,” Jay’s voice startled me so much that I choked on my water.

“What? No, I’m not,” I said at the same time Darren said, “Steve Miller?”

“Oh, he’s a nice boy,” Dad said, oblivious to the tension that pulled tight through three of the five people sitting at the table.

“I’m not going with Steve,” I said.

“He asked you and you said yes,” Jay said. As usual, I couldn’t read his tone. Was he making fun of me?

“No, he said maybe we could go,” I said. “I was just being nice.”

“I don’t think that’s how he heard that response,” Jay said.

“Wait, where did you guys run into, Steve?” Darren asked. I looked up. This was taking a turn that I didn’t want it to take.

“The Lobster Tail,” Jay said. Now I heard the smirk in his voice, clear as day. He was trying to embarrass me.

“Why were you two at The Lobster Tail together?” Darren asked. “Aren’t you guys supposed to be working on the booth?”

“We’ve got it under control,” I said. “You don’t need to keep checking up on us.”

“We were getting drinks,” Jay said. Jay’s words landed like a flash bang into the dining room, leaving everyone gapping in silence. Mom recovered first.

“Isn’t that nice? I’m glad you two are getting along. I knew the Christmas spirit would work its magic,” she said. Darren’s eyes narrowed.

“Why were you getting drinks?”

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