Page 117 of Perfect
“Seriously, things were fine. Nana and Boss were great, and they loved me even though I was a fucking handful.” Alex folds her arms over her chest and raises her eyebrows at me expectantly, and something tightens in my throat.
She shared, I can share.
“Um, I mean, I think they viewed me as a chance to fix whatever they thought they’d fucked up with Melissa, so they were super strict and expected a lot out of me. I felt like they wanted me to be someone I wasn’t. Nana tried really hard to fix my behavior, which made things between us difficult because I wanted to make her happy, but I couldn’t control my impulses or my emotions oranything.
"Boss expected me to take over the company, so he was on my ass to shadow him and learn the business, which I hadnointerest in. He pushed me to do well in school, which was hard because school was fucking boring, and then he pushed me to study business in college and work for the company during the summers, which Ihated. I wanted to make him happy, so I did all of it. I hated every fucking second of it, but I did it.”
“What did your grandma want for you?” I laugh and force myself not to look directly at Alex.
“She wanted me to find a nice girl, settle down, have a shit ton of kids, and be as normal as fucking possible.” Alex sips her wine slowly, not looking at me.
“What were you like in college?”
I shrug. “I dunno, I was mostly normal. I did well in school because there would be hell to pay if I didn’t, and I was better at socializing. Managing my impulses was easier, too. Not easy, necessarily, but easier. I also fucked around a lot.” Alex laughs a little too loudly, and I eye the almost empty wine bottle beside her. “Can you bring me that? I need to deglaze the pan.” She does, leaning against the counter next to me and sipping her wine quietly as I upend the bottle into the pan before pouring in the stock and seasoning the soup.
“Then what?” I laugh bitterly, shaking my head at her.
“ThenI met Ashley, and everything in my life was great for the first time ever, andthenshe left me, andthenI found out she was in love with my roommate, andthenI tried to kill him, andthenI went to prison. My grandparents hired great lawyers, but there’s still a mandatory minimum for what I did.
"I disappointed the ever-loving fuck out of Boss, whoneverforgave me for being the reason he had to sell his majority in the company instead of passing it down, and then he died.Nana forgave me, mostly because she thought I couldn’t help being such a fuck up, but then she got breast cancer, and I couldn’t be there for her or do anything to help her because I was in fucking prison.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, she died three months before I got out. Oh, andthenI had to deal withMelissa, who hates me even more than she used to. I had to pay off my own fucking mother to get her to leave me alone, which was awesome. Can Ipleasestop fucking sharing now?” I exhale hard, looking away from her. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“I know, baby,” she says, and she runs her hand run up and down my back. I stare at the simmering soup, breathing deeply and pushing everything back down. Alex picks up the wedge of cheese and inspects it for a long time before her arm snakes around my waist.
“My dad always used Gruyere when he made French onion soup. I’ve never had it with Comte, but they’re not really different, right?” I catch her eye and try to smile at her.
“They’re a little different, but they’re mostly the same.” She hums and sets the cheese back down. I wrap my arm around her shoulders, and we stand there quietly, embracing.
35
ALEX
FRIDAY, DECEMBER 22
Theo’s been cagey all week about our Christmas plans, and I don’t want to deal with it. He wasn’t even home last night, which was the first night I’ve spent without him in over a month. He seems excited when he picks me up from work, and the backseat of his car is full of a cooler, grocery bags, a small duffle bag, and a nice, brand new weekender bag.
I don’t even ask, I just raise my eyebrows.
He looks sheepish. “I thought we could do Christmas away.”
“Theo, IhateChristmas. I didn’t even get you anything.” He sighs as he opens the passenger door.
“Just get in the car, Alex.” I roll my eyes and get in.
At this point, I know there’s no fighting him on things.
He starts driving south down the coast, soft Christmas music filling the car, and he glances over at me as we pass through Seaside.
“Whydoyou hate Christmas?” he asks, and I groan, looking up at the roof of the car. I don’t want to talk about this, but we’ve been sharing so much more, and I like talking to him. It blurs the lines too much, but they’re already so blurry that I don’t think it matters anymore.
“I loved it as a kid. My parents and I had all these weird traditions.” I smile, thinking about my dad in his stupid running outfit. “And then there was Danny, and he and his family had all these insane expectations around Christmas. It was a huge production every year, with parties, and caroling, and gingerbread houses, and lights, and midnight Mass, and Christmas dinner, and there was this unspokenrightway to do everything. I hated it, but I had to fall in line and host and look the part and act the part,and everything had to beperfectevery fucking year. His aunt Mary was a controlling little tyrant about it, and the fucking bitch always saidsomethingthat made Danny mad at me," I say bitterly.
Talking about this stuff with Theo is easier now, but it’s still not easy to talk about. He gives me a minute to calm down, rubbing my leg soothingly.
“Tell me about what you did with your parents.” He’s looking at the road, and his voice is soft, and I cross my arms and look out the window at the dark ocean. I don't think I've talked about this with anyone in years.
