Page 102 of Implode

“You have a theater room?” Claire asks, as we follow Penny down the stairs to the newly renovated basement.

“It was my dad’s DIY project over the winter. It wasn’t completed yet at Christmas, otherwise, we probably would have been watching family movies in it.”

She just nods as we make our way down the steps.

“Mom is a lover of all things holidays. She would have put on a sappy movie where the main characters don’t like Christmas, but then get stuck in the mountains in a little village where they learn the true meaning of the holiday.”

“And kiss during the first snow of the year,” Claire adds.

“See, you know exactly what type of movie we would have all had to endure,” I joke.

Claire allows me to hold her hand as we find a seat in the back row of leather recliners with Penny. Dad elevated each row, with the back being the highest row. Lights are built into the floor steps, and Mom purchased a popcorn machine to make it even more authentic. Framed movie posters fill the walls.

I relax into the recliner, kicking up my feet as the music starts and the first picture on the screen is of what I assume is Angie as a baby.

“Aww,” Claire coos.

Everyone laughs as Graham’s baby pictures are filtered in. Some are professional, while others are the embarrassing ones Mom always took of us kids. She would routinely remind us that she was saving her stash for when we planned to get married. She did not lie.

The show progresses with some family photos with Angie featuring her deceased mom and brother. Her dad must have helped to get the photos to the videographer who put the presentation together. Based on the sniffling coming from Angie, who is sitting right beside him in the front row, she was not expecting to see them.

“She looks just like her mom,” Claire whispers.

I am featured in some of Graham’s pictures, and while it is good to hear Claire laugh, I am shocked over the half nude ones of me warming up for high school wrestling practice that mom decided to include in the show. Graham and I would often train and compete together. I didn’t even know Mom took some of these. I can only imagine the others she has in her arsenal.

“You look like you were ready to hurt someone,” Claire mutters, leaning into me.

When I look over at her, I can see her biting her bottom lip even in the darkness of the room. I can smell the shampoo she washes her hair with, and I will never tire of breathing in her scent. She looks up at me and I wiggle my eyebrows, making her giggle.

“I had a lot of pent-up energy in my teenage years, and wrestling helped me channel it. Competing was better than me just going around hitting people just because they pissed me off.”

“What were you pissed off about?”

I shrug. “Probably nothing. Just the fact I was an immature teen, learning to deal with my fluctuating emotions. Wrestling gave me an outlet.”

Claire nods. “That was cheerleading for me,” she says softly. “If I was in a bad mood, I would find structure in the routine. I liked that cheering brought out my spirit, but what I really loved was putting my own spin on the movements. I could still be creative. Too bad…” She pauses and I now know why she had to quit.

“Tara was a fucking bitch?” I conclude.

“Yeah.”

I still can’t get over the irony that with over seven billion people on the planet, we would have the same person screw us over at completely different times in our lives.

“I’m sorry you went through that as a teenager, baby, and that there was no one in your life to lean on for support.”

Claire sucks her bottom lip back between her teeth again.

“For years I blamed her for ruining my life.”

Claire looks at me, while the slideshow plays in the background. “And now you don’t?”

I shake my headno. “If anything, Tara gave me the prime example of what I didn’t want in life, so that when I found the person I did want, it would be obvious. Claire, it’s obvious now. I struggled to find my way before, but I’m without doubt telling you that—”

“Nic…”

I need her to understand. I need her to give me—us—a chance to find our way again. “What if all of our pain was meant to be endured so we could get to this very moment in time?” I ask, completely ignoring the slideshow.

“What if all of these circumstances are just a bunch of coincidences?” she counters.

---