I know I’m not getting that money back. My dad would never allow it. But what do I have to lose? The worst is that I put on a fake act with my dad to avoid pissing him off and having a meal. I know I’m not getting my money back.
“Okay.” I sigh heavily. “Fine. What time?”
“Yay! Four sharp.”
“Alright.” I nod.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She jumps to her feet and shuffles over to give me a kiss on the top of my head. “See you tonight!”
As she rushes away, I regret my decision already.
Nothing good is going to come from tonight. I just know it.
As I walk up to the front steps of the house that gave me nothing but bad memories, I can’t shake the feeling of dread settling into the pit of my stomach.
It’s stupid for me to be here. Nothing good ever came when it had to do with my parents. But a part of me, the broken boy who craved his mom and dad to love him, to have him be enough, wants to see if maybe there’s a chance. That may be because I’m older and no longer their burden that things could be different.
The moment I lower my hand, after knocking on the door, my heart starts to race, my body breaking out in a sweat.
The door swings open, and I’m relieved to see it’s my mom. She smiles up at me with surprise.
“You actually came,” she says in disbelief.
“Ah, yeah. Did you not mean it? I can go if you want.”
“No, no.” She grabs my hand, pulling me inside the house. “Of course, I want you here. You’re the last to arrive.”
“Are other people here?"
Maybe having other people around might make this a lot less terrifying.
“We have the Jensons and the Markles.”
I take that back. Mr. Jenson is almost as bad as my dad. His wife is nice enough. I don’t remember the Markles as much, but from what I do, they didn’t seem too bad.
“Everyone!” Mom announces when she pulls me into the living room. “You all remember, Easton, our son.”
The back of my neck heats as everyone looks my way. “Hi.” I force a smile.
“Would you look at him?” A woman who looks to be in her forties with long blonde hair gets up and comes over to us. “He sure did turn into such a handsome young man.” She reaches up and pats my cheek. Why do people think they can just touch others without asking? I hate it.
“Our son?” The sound of my father’s voice has a chill shooting down my spine. “Forgot we had one of those. Seeing how he’s too good for his parents now that he’s gone to that fancy school.”
My stomach twists. Still as big of an asshole as always, I see.
“Stop that, Fred. It’s Christmas, can we please just have a good day? Supper is ready.”
Everyone files into the kitchen. It’s cramped and not enough people can fit at the table, but Mom made it work, finding a space between her and the blonde woman, whom she introduces as Karen, Mrs. Markle, when Mom introduced everyone else.
As conversation goes on around me, I pick at my food. It’s good. But I’m too nervous to eat much.
“So, Easton, how’s school going?” Mom asks.
“Oh.” I look up. “It’s good. Passing all my classes.”
“That’s amazing. I’m so proud of you.” She smiles, and for a second, I let that happy feeling that I did something right take over me.
“And football?” Dad grunts. “You still playing that?”