Page 4 of Two Friends in Marriage
That’s fine.They don’t need to be paying close attention when I make my announcement.It’s not important news to them.
Evan is telling his family tomorrow, but I’m doing it on Christmas Eve, my first full day with my family in Calgary.Outside, it’s dark and miserable, but in here, it’s warm…though I can’t say it’s particularly cozy.
“I have something to tell you.”I look around the table at my father, my stepmother, and my teenage half-siblings.
My stepmother gestures for me to continue.
I’ve always called her Suzanne.Nobody has ever tried to make me call her anything else, which I appreciated.Nobody has ever expected us to be close.But maybe if we’d been closer, my dad wouldn’t have forgotten about me.He would have seen me as part of his new family, rather than an inconvenient reminder.
I don’t know.Our relationship had started disintegrating before then.
I take a deep breath.“I’m engaged.”
“Congratulations,” Suzanne says, and my father echoes her a moment later.
Kaden looks up from his phone.“You’re not wearing a ring.”
Peyton rolls her eyes.“You don’tneeda ring.When men get engaged, they aren’t expected to walk around with a symbol that they’re taken, but women are?”
This morphs into an argument about something else, but then Suzanne says, “Not now,” accompanied by a meaningful look, and Kaden returns to his phone.
“Congrats,” Peyton says to me.“When are you getting married?”
“This summer,” I reply.
Peyton is in her last year of high school.When she was born—before the move to Calgary—I was a year younger than she is now, and I wasn’t particularly interested in having a baby sister.As with Suzanne, we get along well enough, but I don’t feel like we’refamily.I’m the outsider here, the one who doesn’t belong.
“Who’s the man?”my father asks.
“His name’s Evan,” I say.“I’ve known him since university, but we only started dating this past summer.”
My father nods, his face impassive.
There are no comments about how I never told them I was seeing someone, how could I be in a relationship without them knowing?I’m not disappointed; it’s what I expected, even if it’s accompanied with a blank feeling that matches my father’s expression.After all, I’ve only talked to my father twice in the past six months.He didn’t even call or text on my birthday, which wasn’t a surprise—he never does.Yet a part of me had still hoped, especially since it was a rather significant birthday for me.
Evan and I discussed what to tell people, and we agreed to pretend we’ve been dating for a little while—not too long, though, because he and Graham broke up in June.Easier to pretend we’ve been in a relationship than to explain the situation to everyone.Where we live, young people don’t usually get married because they’ve given up on finding romantic love and don’t want to be lonely.
And I wouldn’t get marriedjustso I didn’t have to be alone.Better to be single than to tie yourself to the wrong person, but Evan and I are good friends, and I’ve thought about this rationally.
After we get up from the table, my father beckons me to his office, which is on the first floor.My family has lived in this house since they moved out west when I was eighteen.I know it well, but it will never feel like home to me, unlike the house we shared with my mother.
My father sits down at his desk and writes me a check.
A large postdated check.
I don’t have a checkbook, but my dad is old-fashioned in some ways.Peyton likes to tease him about it.
“For your wedding—or a down payment,” he says.“It’s dated for January because I need to make sure I have the money in the right account.”
I nod.“Thank you, Dad.This is very generous.”
And not unexpected, to be honest.My dad and I might not be close—not like we once were—but he paid for most of my schooling and gives me money every Christmas.It’s the only way he shows that he cares about me now.I feel like an obligation.
I put the check in my wallet, then help Suzanne in the kitchen.When we’re finished, I tell her that I’m going for a walk, and she seems a little puzzled as to why I’d willingly go out in this weather, but she doesn’t ask.
I head down the driveway, and the sting of the cold wind on my cheeks is a nice change.Inside that house, I just go through the motions.I’m not really myself.
I wonder when I’ll come back here for Christmas again.Maybe never.Evan will want to spend the holidays with his family, and to be honest, I’m looking forward to it.Some people dread dealing with in-laws, and I harbor no illusions that we’ll be super close.But I look forward to having family of some kind in the Toronto area, a mother-in-law and father-in-law who will occasionally invite us for dinner.
