by Lori L. Otto
“It’s not fair that they can be alone and we can’t,” I plead with him. In the bright light of the dining room, I can see through Jon’s dress shirt. He’s wearing a sleeveless white undershirt beneath it, which means part of his tattoo is visible in the light. I touch it softly.
“If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep,” he says as he checks out some of the dark bottles. He glances over his shoulder and puckers his lips, ready for a kiss. I give him a quick peck.
“I can see it.”
“Good.”
“That means my parents might see it.”
“That’s fine. It’s a part of me. For life.” He laughs, shrugging. “Do you like raspberries?”
“I do. We have some fresh ones in the refrigerator.”
“Perfect. One faux kir, coming up. Go grab a few raspberries,” he says. I go back into the kitchen where my aunt and uncle are grazing on appetizers, then open the refrigerator in search of the fruit.
“Where’s your mom?” Chris asks.
“Upstairs, I think.”
“She asked for some time alone,” my dad says as he follows Camille and Finn into the kitchen. “She’s been up there for at least an hour.” Finn starts picking at food. Camille’s cheeks are still flushed in embarrassment. She smiles weakly at me.
“Should you check on her?” Anna asks.
“I’m giving her space,” he says. “She’ll come down when she’s ready.”
“I’ll go check on her,” Chris suggests. My uncle pops an olive into his mouth on his way out.
“How’s he been today?” Dad asks my aunt.
“Good,” Anna says. “Can you believe it was fifteen years ago?”
My dad pours more liquor into his glass, swirling it around thoughtfully. He just shakes his head. Normally Dad is the strong one, but today he seems more affected than normal.
“Are you okay?” Anna asks.
“It’s weird,” he says as he takes a sip. Jon comes into the kitchen and stands beside me, holding the red drink out to me. I put a raspberry in mine, and look at his drink, deciding his doesn’t require the sweet fruit. “She hasn’t said much about him today. She seems okay, but I can’t stop thinking about seeing her on that stretcher,” Dad explains. He takes another drink. “I had a nightmare about it last night. She didn’t live.” He swallows hard, not meeting our eyes.
I squeeze Jon’s hand, trying to focus on him to keep myself from following my dad down his sad, reflective path. He rarely gets like this, and I don’t like seeing him this way. Anna meets my gaze and makes a subtle nod, suggesting I comfort him. I look away quickly, pretending I don’t see her. She walks around the island and puts her hand on Dad’s back, rubbing lightly.
“She did live,” Anna says.
“Where’d you get your drinks?” Finn asks Jon.
“The bar.” Finn takes Camille’s hand and drags her toward the formal dining room.
“No alcohol, Finn,” my dad says, snapping out of his daze.
“I’m not getting alcohol,” he says.
“Right,” Dad sighs.
“Well, I couldn’t find her,” Chris says. Dad looks worried and tense, setting his drink down loudly. Anna looks concerned, too. From my vantage point, though, I can see my mom waiting in the hallway outside the kitchen. Dad can’t see her yet. She has chosen a short, pale greenish-blue dress that brings out the color of her eyes perfectly. Her makeup is simple and natural, her hair curled. She’s wearing a rather extravagant diamond necklace that my dad gave her for their wedding, which I’ve only seen her wear a handful of times. She looks beautiful. “There’s no mourning sister up there, but I did find this lovely woman.”
She smiles at me and mouths the word “beautiful” to me, pointing at my outfit.
“You, too,” I form the words back at her.
“Where is she?” Dad says, looking confused and starting toward the doorway.
“Who?” Mom asks cheerfully, stepping into his path.
His back to me, I can’t see Dad’s expression, but I can tell from my mother’s that he is pleased. “Look at you,” he says, putting his hands on her waist. His shoulders relax as she runs her fingers through his hair. “I think I just fell in love with you all over again,” I hear him say softly. This makes my mother smile even more.
“We are going out tonight.” I hadn’t taken her seriously earlier in the day. In past years, she had considered going out, but my dad had stopped getting his hopes up a long time ago. I always enjoyed these evenings at home with my mom. We would often openly reflect on Nate. I learned a lot about him on the anniversaries of his death.
My dad doesn’t have a verbal response for her, though. He just leans over, holding her tight, and kisses her firmly. I look away, giving them privacy. Sometimes their kisses seem to get a little out of hand. I glance at Jon uncomfortably as the embrace between my parents continues.
“So what are you drinking?” I ask him quietly to get his attention.
“They’re in love, aren’t they?” Jon teases, not answering my question. I roll my eyes. “It’s better than parents who fight.”
My uncle finally clears his throat. “So we’re going out,” Chris repeats my mom’s earlier statement. “Are we all on board with that?”
Dad finally pulls back. “I’m not sure I’m in any shape to go out.” He laughs as he motions to his nearly empty glass.
“I just thought we’d walk up the street to Rick’s restaurant,” Mom says. “No driving. Not this year. But let’s go keep that New Year’s date I made you break our first year together.”
My dad laughs and kisses her again. “Wait, we can’t go out. We can’t leave Tessa and Finn here.” All of the adults look at me and Jon. “Well, we know we can’t trust Finn here, anyway,” he adds with a wink in my direction. “Where’d that kid go now?”
“He’s fixing a drink, remember?” My dad goes to the formal dining room to see what Steven’s nephew is up to now.
“Lexi should be here any minute,” Anna says.
“We don’t need a sitter,” I protest, not realizing that was why Lexi was coming over. “We’re old enough to take care of ourselves.”
“She’s not a sitter,” my mom says. “You’re friends. She wanted somewhere to celebrate, too. It works out well this way. It’s not that we don’t trust you.” I glare at her, though, knowing that they don’t.
“Right. Wait, Granna’s coming, too?”
“No, I told her my plans. She was going to stay in with James tonight.”
“Was she upset?” I feel like we’re abandoning her. She spends most of these anniversaries with us.
“No,” my mom says. “She was very encouraging of it. She’s meeting us for dinner on the second, so we’ll still have some time together.”
I nod in her general direction, taking in the new plans for the evening. My dad once again follows Finn and my best friend into the kitchen. They both have small, colorful drinks in hand. This time, neither of them looks guilty of anything my dad wouldn’t approve of.
“I guess I need to get ready,” Dad says as he takes a final swig of his scotch.
I knew this year would be different, having Jon here, but I expected to spend some of the evening memorializing Nate. I looked forward to this night every year, and this one was especially important since I’d received the sketch book and was able to have a better idea of who this man was.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell Jon, releasing his hand and going downstairs to the basement. I grab the leather book and bring it upstairs with me, setting it in plain sight on the coffee table. I intend to keep his spirit alive tonight, in some way. I sit down in the living room, alone. My boyfriend eventually brings me my drink and sits down next to me. Camille and Finn are tasting one another’s drinks when they join us. Camille cringes when she takes a sip of Finn’s.
“What’d you put in there?” she asks. He simply nudges her in the side to keep her quiet.
“Finn, you’re gonna get us al
l in trouble,” I tell him angrily. “They’ll never leave me here alone.”
“It was just a splash,” he hisses at me.
“We should start a fire,” Jon says.
“Hey, Chris?” I call to my uncle. He comes into the room, anxious to go out. “Can you build a fire for us?”
“I could do it, Olivia. I’m fully capable.”
“I’ve got it,” Chris says as he heads out onto the patio to get some wood. Jon follows him and helps him carry some kindling in. He watches my uncle’s process closely as Chris gives him some tips to keep the fire going.
“I was a boy scout. I can keep fires going in the middle of the wilderness with pouring rain. I think I can manage this.” I hear a little frustration in his voice.
“Nevertheless,” my dad says as he comes back into the room, “there is an extinguisher in that cabinet in the corner with all of the pictures. You know, in case you can’t figure out how to put it out.”
“Thanks,” Jon says with a polite–but forced–smile. “I promise we won’t burn your house down.”
“Good,” is all my dad says. Mom and Anna meet their husbands in the foyer just as Lexi comes in the door. I’m a little ticked off at her, realizing she was in on this chaperone plan all along.
My parents and aunt and uncle seem to be in a hurry to leave, so they just wave on their way out.
“Lexi, they can each have a little champagne at midnight,” my dad says, making a measurement with his thumb and forefinger. “Finn, if you two stay for a toast, I want you to be here when we get home around twelve-thirty. I want to make sure you’re okay to drive. Got it?”
“Yes sir,” Finn says with a salute as the adults go out the front door.
“You okay, Liv?” my cousin asks me as she takes her fiancé’s coat and drapes it over the back of the sofa. She does the same to hers.
“I hate that they don’t trust me at all.”
“Oh, they do,” she says, blowing off my complaint. “They just don’t trust the two of you together.” She winks at me playfully, but I simply roll my eyes at her. “Oh, stop, Livvy. We’re going to have fun. I’ve only got one rule: you need to be prepared for someone to walk into any room you’re in. So no locked doors. What you decide to do with your time, though, I don’t care. Oh, but just know your parents could come home early, so don’t you dare get me in trouble.” She smiles sweetly and takes Kyle’s hand as they go into the kitchen. Finn and Camille immediately head downstairs.
“Seriously, guys?”
“We’re gonna watch a movie, that’s all,” my best friend says.
“Right.” I turn to ask Jon if he wants to go, too, but he stands up quickly and goes back into the kitchen with his glass. I place my feet carefully on the coffee table and settle into the couch with the sketchbook in my lap. I open up to a random page, and see a picture taped on it. It’s a picture of Nate and my mother, talking over a few cupcakes. There’s icing on my mom’s nose. Nate looks completely smitten, and I can’t help but smile and melt a little at his expression.
Jon comes back, his glass topped off, and sits down next to me. He pulls a magazine into this lap and starts thumbing through it.
“Look,” I say, showing him the picture. He glances quickly and nods, looking back at an advertisement. “What’s wrong?” I ask him, closing the book.
“Olivia,” he says with a heavy sigh. “Will you please stop giving your parents reasons to look at me as if I’m a child?”
“What do you mean?”
“Asking your uncle to build a fire? What are we, nine?”
“Well, I don’t know how to do it!” I argue with him. “I didn’t know you could.”
“Ask me, then,” he says, clearly frustrated. “And from now on, just know that I am the man of the household in my own home, so aside from birthing a child or decorating a room, I can do most of what needs to be done around one.”
“Ooookay. I didn’t mean to question your manhood.”
“We have one goal right now, right? Get your parents to see us as adults. So far, they’ve left us in the capable hands of your cousin who’s, what, five years older than I am?”
“Six,” I correct him.
He sighs once more and shakes his head. “Yeah, sorry, I’m a little frustrated.”
“Well, the only reason they let you come over here in the first place was because they were planning on staying in. It’s not like they were going to leave us alone, anyway.”
“Still. There are about a million other things I’d rather do and places I’d rather be than being babysat on New Year’s Eve.”
“Well, then go,” I tell him. “Don’t let me hold you back.”
“That’s not what I mean, Liv. I want to be with you. I just wonder what it will take to get them to trust us, just a little.”
“Well, I’ll blame this on you. You’re the one who brought up sex.”
“No, I don’t think that was me. You told them I wasn’t a virgin. You planted the seed.”
“Technically, you sort of did.” I try to keep a straight face but when he starts laughing, I can’t keep my composure.
“Well, look who’s got a sense of humor about it now...” he suggests.
“I’m sorry.” I continue giggling. “That was inappropriate. I really am sorry.” I smile warmly.
He once again shakes his head and smiles. “Me, too. So what were you looking at?”
“It’s Nate’s sketch book.” I open it back up to the picture.
“Your mom looks so young.”
“Yeah. Look how in love he was with her.”
“You know,” Jon says, “your dad has that look all the time with her.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
“Yeah, he does,” he argues. “Did you see him tonight? He was on cloud nine.”
“He was drunk,” I tell him, shrugging off his assessment of my dad.
“A little tipsy, maybe, but blissfully happy. I can’t imagine having parents like that. It’s literally beyond my comprehension.”
“Did your parents never get along?”
“Never. They fought constantly. Same thing with Max and Will’s dad. And if you want to see drunk, come see my mom any night after she gets off work. You don’t know drunk.” He looks sad.
“Oh,” I say, unaware. “Is she an alcoholic?”
He simply nods. “I’d call her that. She wouldn’t. But that’s part of the disease. You can’t address it until you admit there’s a problem, and she’s not ready to admit that yet.”
“I didn’t know.”
“It’s not something I brag about,” he says. “And it’s something I’ve tried to hide from my brothers as much as possible. I think Will’s figured it out. Not Max, though. And I don’t want him to have to know that. In a way, I dread moving out for school next year. And on the other hand, I can’t wait. It’s selfish, I know.”
“It’s understandable.”
“Who’s going to take care of them, though?” he asks, wearing genuine worry across his forehead. With this revelation, I can see his dilemma.
“That shouldn’t be your burden,” I tell him.
“No, it shouldn’t be. But it is. That’s why I have to stay close by. Will’s going to be fourteen soon. It breaks my heart to have to prepare him to take my place. But he’s got to stay on the right path, and he’s got to be there to look out for Max.”
“You don’t have any other family members nearby?”
“Just my dad’s brother, but he’s never had anything to do with my brothers. My parents were transplants here. And I’m pretty sure Max and Will’s dad is completely estranged from his family.”
“I can’t even imagine that,” I tell him, realizing how lucky I am to have so many aunts and uncles nearby. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” he says as he throws the magazine back on the coffee table. “How’d we get on that subject anyway? There are so many better topics to talk about.” He pushes my hair behind my ear.
“Like?”
“Like how pretty you look tonight.”
“That topic bores me.”
“Nice girls would simply say thank you,” he says just before he presses his lips to mine.
“I’m ... not ... nice ...” I tell him between kisses. He laughs, but doesn’t break away, pulling my legs from the coffee table and into his lap. I arrange myself closer to him and put my arm around him. A strange taste on my tongue, I back away abruptly. “What are you drinking?”
“Just a splash,” he repeats Finn’s earlier explanation.
“See? They can’t trust us!” I whisper, careful to keep Lexi from hearing.
“Your cousin isn’t the prude you make her out to be,” he says. “She knows.”
“Lexi?!”
“Yes, Lexi. She poured.”
“No way.”
“Yes, way,” he explains. “I told her I wasn’t driving anywhere.” He shrugs his shoulders. I hop off the couch, ready to take my glass to the bar to add something, but Jon grabs me from behind and pulls me into his lap. “You don’t need it.”
“Don’t tell me what I need.” I don’t try very hard to get away, liking the feel of his arms around me. “I want it.”
“Why? You’re already intoxicating,” he says as he lays me back on the couch.
“Intoxicating,” I say. “Not intoxicated.”
“We aren’t getting drunk tonight. We don’t need that.”
“Why do you get to have some?”
“I know I can hold my liquor,” he says.
“The first step is admitting you have a problem,” I sass. He shifts on the couch and hovers over me. “I don’t know if I’m okay with someone walking in on us like this,” I tell him with a smile.
“No?” he asks, teasing me. “One drink, then,” he says as he gets up and grabs my glass from the coffee table, taking it with him as he disappears into the kitchen. I sit back up on the couch, realizing my skirt was showing off a lot of my legs. He talks to me seriously when he brings it back. “If you get drunk, that goes against our goal, right?”
“Right,” I nod as I hold my hand out for the drink. He hands it to me and picks his up, gesturing for a toast. “To our first New Year’s Eve together,” I toast.
“To–hopefully–our last supervised New Year’s Eve together.” He clinks his glass to mine and we both take a drink. I squint my eyes a little at the taste. The bubbles burn my throat, but it still tastes good. “You okay there?” He laughs at my reaction.