Page 31 of Falling Again
There were times, like now, that Anthony didn’t mind Steven’s knowledge. He needed a second opinion on the Main Street expansion, and his father would have a lot of useful insight. But there were other times, times that came more frequently recently, when Anthony bristled at his father’s intrusion, his insistence on knowing everything.
If Anthony had any other job, he wouldn’t have a shadow to live under. He wouldn’t constantly feel like he was letting his father down. Filling the shoes of someone like Steven Snyder was not for the faint of heart, and Anthony wondered if he was really up for the job.
“Can we please talk about something else?” Alice moaned after ten minutes of town talk. She reached over Anthony to snag a dumpling, nearly knocking over Madeline’s juice box. Rather than being annoyed, Madeline poked her aunt in the side with a chopstick, her head falling back in laughter when Alice yelped.
Natalie stifled a grin. “Maddie, what did we say about poking people?”
Madeline seemed bored with the question. “Not to do it.”
“That’s right. Now apologize to Aunt Alice. And where did you get those chopsticks?”
“Sorry, Aunt Alice,” Madeline said, her gaze down on her half-eaten bowl of rice. “Can me and Otis go watch more movies?”
Anthony was surprised when Natalie agreed, unlatching Otis from his seat and stepping back to watch them run away. They were both fans of limited screentime, but apparently all bets were off tonight.
“I’ll get my things,” Alice said as she stood. “I’ll crash with Mom and Dad.” She stalked into the living room and left the rest of the adults with the clean-up.
Anthony collected the kids’ dishes and met his mother at the sink. “Mom, we’ve got this,” he argued, hearing Natalie collecting the other dishes.
“Natalie, why don’t we go work on the logistics for the packing project?” Steven said, pulling himself to standing and extending a hand to Natalie. She looked to Donna and Anthony, but nodded and followed him into the living room. Anthony heard his father’s booming voice over the din of the children’s movie and Alice’s packing.
His mother filled the sink with soapy water and started scrubbing while Anthony cleared the table and joined her to dry. It was a familiar routine they mastered in his youth, but he still didn’t want to take advantage. “We can handle this, Mom.”
Donna reached out and patted her son’s cheek, her eyes bright and clear. “I know, but I want to help. I know your sister has been a handful, and you and Natalie have enough on your plates.”
The mention of Natalie made Anthony bristle. “We’re fine,” he lied, the words slipping off his tongue too quickly to sound genuine.
Donna Snyder was a politician’s wife and didn’t suffer fools. “Dear, you’re allowed to ask for help.” She kept her gaze focused on her work in the sink, but she continued, “Your father and I had our moments early on. Both of us were too busy to see what we were missing.”
Her words made Anthony frown, his hand frozen in mid-air as he reached for a clean plate. “What?”
Donna chuckled. “You two are trying to hide it, but it’s clear you’re both exhausted. I know it’s a lot of work having two small children, and that’s without two very demanding full-time jobs.” Lowering her voice even further, she turned to Anthony. “If you want to talk about it, you know I’m here.”
Anthony nearly lost his grip on the dish he was holding, hastily shoving it in the wrong cabinet to get it out of his way. “Talk?” he asked, like the notion was foreign to him. For someone who spoke with people every day, sometimes Anthony needed a refresher on basic human interaction.
His mother hummed a tune to herself for a moment, rinsing a glass a little longer than was necessary. When Anthony thought about it, he remembered other times like this—times when his mother knew he needed someone to lean on. Steven certainly wasn’t winning any awards for his compassion, but he’d been a good father, if a little too no-nonsense. Donna had the patience of a saint, and she could wait out her son if he wasn’t ready to spill the beans.
“Do you remember that first re-election celebration?” she asked out of nowhere, startling Anthony back to the present.
Of course he did; it was hard to forget one of the most hectic times of his childhood. Steven had run his first re-election campaign when Anthony was twelve, and what had started as a sure-fire victory took an eleventh-hour turn when someone else threw their hat in the ring. His father had been furious, convinced he’d lose it all and have to go back to practicing law, but his mother was calm, cool, and collected.
“It’s kind of hard to forget,” he chuckled. “You rounded up all the auxiliary groups in Buckeye Falls, and within three days the polls had Dad in the lead again. He won by a margin of 20%.”
The corner of Donna’s lips kicked up at the memory. “And do you remember what our homelife was like during those few weeks?”
Scrunching his nose, Anthony struggled to remember anything but his father’s mood swings. He and Alice had hidden in their rooms, content with library books and cable reruns to keep them company while their parents played the game of politics. “I know Alice and I ate a lot of takeout,” he said, wondering where this was going.
“That’s certainly true, but do you remember how tense things were with your father and I?” Anthony shook his head and waited for his mother to continue. “Well, that makes sense; we tried to hide everything from you kids. Our priorities were the re-election and you two, and I’m sorry to say we didn’t give each other much TLC during the more hectic times.” Her gaze never left the sudsy water in the sink, and Anthony appreciated the gesture. He knew if he made eye contact with his mother, he’d like cry like a baby and cling to her like a life raft.
Clearing past the lump in his throat, Anthony said, “That sounds a little familiar.”
Yanking the plug from the sink, Donna took a moment to dry her hands before turning to her son. She reached up and cupped his cheek, and Anthony had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop from blubbering. “Remember to give each other a little grace, okay? It’s so easy to fall into bland routines and forget about what really matters.”
What really matters. Anthony couldn’t remember a time when they weren’t focused on the bigger picture, not the little pieces that fill a day. Anthony could only nod and hope his mother didn’t see the glistening of unshed tears in his eyes.
Their mother-son bonding moment ended just in time for Steven to join them. “No wonder your wife started her own planning business. That woman could plan the allied invasion if you gave her a pad of paper and the time,” Steven praised. “I gave Natalie the details on what needs to be packed at the house. If it’s okay with your schedule, you could leave next week.”
Anthony knew Trudy had already cleared things up for him, so he simply nodded at his father and put away the last dish. When he knew the tears wouldn’t fall, he turned to face the group. “Thanks. We’ll take care of it.”
