To See You Again

by gard, marian

  "I wondered if that was the case." I can tell she's implying, but not mentioning, my girlfriend.

  Our conversation fades away after awhile and then she's silent, and I am too. Fear bubbles to the surface again and I swallow hard. Screw it. "Can I ask what happened with Spencer? Did you, um… did you lose him because of me?"

  Her answer comes quicker than I expect, but her voice is flat, lacking emotion. "Yes and no." I've got to play this right. There's no room for error here, so I just shut up and let her talk. She continues and I literally sit on my hands. "I didn't tell him what happened, if that is what you're asking, but after uh… everything, I realized things weren't working between us. I just didn't want to see it before. So, I ended it with him. It was really hard, but I knew I couldn't move to Michigan with him. Vanessa and I got an apartment here in Chicago and we lived together until she and Ryan got married." Her voice sounds weird and her words come out all tight, like she can't push them out fast enough. "When did you move here, by the way?" She asks.

  "Six years ago." I answer her, but I'm not letting this crap about Spencer go. I got the hell outta the way, because I thought she wanted him. I thought he was what was going to make her happy. That's what she said, right? I just wasn't gonna hang around to watch it happen. I really don't get what she's been so pissed about all this time. I did what she wanted. I free my hands from beneath my legs and take a deep breath. That's it. I'm going all in. "Did you love him?" I close my eyes, bracing for her reaction. I know she doesn't want to discuss this with me. My only advantage now is that she can't run away.

  She exhales loudly. "I thought I did, but I think it was really just the idea of him that I loved." I hear her shift around on the floor near me, while I stay silent. "You don't know what I mean, do you?"

  I get the concept of loving the idea of someone, and I guess I understand what she's trying to say, but what I don't get is Spencer specifically. He was so generic, so basic, and Rachel was so exceptional. She is still, to this day, the most incredible woman I have ever met. She deserved more.

  "No, I get it," I lie. I pull some loose change from my pocket and take turns pouring it from one hand to the other, adding it up, in an attempt to quell my nerves. "I'm sorry for bringing him up, it's just all this time I pictured you two married."

  Rachel

  There's no trace of mockery in his tone, no sarcasm, but that doesn't stop his words from stinging. I mutter back to him that it's ok and then begin pondering something I haven't thought about for years—my relationship with Spencer.

  He represented security. That's the truth, though it's always been hard for me to admit it. Like a lot of people I know, my parents are divorced. They married each other when they were only twenty years old and had me when they were twenty-one. If you run the math between their wedding day and my birthday you can guess the reason for their union. They were separated when I was four and divorced by the time I was five. They both went on to remarry and have more children with their respective new spouses. I have five half siblings. I spent years going back and forth between two households, never feeling like I fully belonged in either. When I got older, I was able to understand their reasons for divorcing; but it never changed the sensation that in order to be happy they both had to leave me. Rationally, I knew they had left each other, but that fear of desertion stuck with me and I've never really stopped feeling like I don't fit in.

  Collin knows all about my family, and the ping-pong ball routine I went through on weekends growing up and during each holiday season. He had a front row seat for my family drama early on in our friendship, and in return, he let me in on his too.

  - Ten Years Prior -

  Raven

  "Hey, Raven, hold up." I turn to see Collin navigating past a group of girls chatting in the hall, heading toward me.

  "Oh, hey Collin. What's up?" I pull my hair out from where it's trapped under the strap of my messenger bag and flip it over my shoulder as I glance up at him.

  "Whoa. What's that face?" He raises his eyebrows at me.

  "What face?"

  "I don't know. You look like someone just kicked a puppy or something."

  "It's nothing," I mumble, pushing through the glass doors that lead outside. He trails me. I increase my pace, but in just two strides he's right next to me on the path.

  "Well, you don't have to tell me why you have the pouty face, but you don't get to deny having it." He shoots me an endearing smile as he nudges me.

  "Fine. My respective idiot parents both forgot about daughter number one and made plans with their other families for Thanksgiving." Speaking these words out loud makes me cringe. It's been an internal battle between anger and embarrassment for me since talking to them both last night, and right now all I'm feeling is humiliation.

  I risk a glance at Collin who is peering down at me sympathetically. "How did that happen?" He gently pulls on my elbow and brings us both to a stop. We take a few steps off the path and move to stand beneath a large oak tree.

  I release a loud sigh and look away from him. "I don't know. My mom thought I wanted to go to my dad's because she claims I said something about it being less of a drive for me when I didn't have that much time off. So, she assumed I had cleared it with him, and my dad thought I was going to be with my Mom as planned." I look down, shifting a stick with the tip of my shoe. "So, my mother is going to be with her in-laws and my dad is sending my half-sisters to my step-mother's sister's house for the holiday so the two of them can take some kind of second honeymoon in Mexico, or some shit. I don't know. I stopped listening after she started blabbing about first-class tickets." The stick beneath my shoe snaps and I look back up at Collin. His expression is serious. "I don't expect you to follow any of that. I barely do and I know all the people involved. Bottom line—I'm on my own for turkey this year."

  "Come home with me."

  "What?"

  "Come home with me," he repeats.

  "No, I heard you. It's just what the hell are you talking about? Thanksgiving break starts tomorrow," I say, feeling stupid for having told him anything. Now he's treating me like some sort of charity case.

  "So?" Collin smirks. "Your point is?"

  "Well, for starters that would be totally rude for me to just show up for dinner with your family with zero notice, and then stay overnight to top it off. Your mom has probably already started making preparations and they don't include some random friend of yours from school."

  Collin's smile grows bigger, triggering his dimples. "If that's what's worrying you then just stop right now. My mother will not care, and she doesn't slave away in the kitchen. She caters every year and her assistant makes all the arrangements. Trust me, all she does is tick a few boxes and sign the check. There's more food than any of us could eat in five meals, let alone one." Collin tugs my arm, pulling me back on to the sidewalk as we start walking back toward our respective apartments. "You're coming home with me. End of story." He smiles wickedly, and I can't help but smile back.

  "Um, ok. If you really mean it, I guess I will, but please promise me you will call her and make sure this is really fine."

  "It's totally fine. I'm sure of it, but yes, I'll call her when I get back to my place, OK?"

  Collin (Ten Years Prior)

  "Why are we crammed in your car again?" I ask, while shifting in the passenger seat of her tiny vehicle. She grimaces at me, and I crack a smile.

  "Because, Mr. Crabby, I wanted to pay you back for taking in my orphaned ass for Thanksgiving."

  "By punishing me?" She swings her fist at me, attempting and failing, to punch my arm. I recline my seat, stretching my legs out farther, and I hear something in the rear seat crunch in protest.

  "Watch it, Collin, you're crushing the flowers I got for your mom!"

  "You got my mommy flowers?" I exclaim, in the silliest, most sarcastic voice possible and then downshift nearly immediately to a darker tone. "You obviously haven't met her."

  "What does that mean?" Raven shoo
ts me a nervous glance. Her dark hair is pulled up into a loose bun. I like it better down, when it's wavy and cascading down her back. She continues to glare at me and I realize she isn't letting this one go.

  "Nothing. Don't worry about it," I mumble, and reach for the dial to turn the volume up on the radio. Raven bats my hand away.

  "Oh no you don't. I revealed to you my Thanksgiving familial shame. Now you're going to tell me why Mommy doesn't want flowers!" Raven arches an accusatory brow in my direction.

  I give her an annoyed sounding sigh and shift my gaze to the passing scenery out the window. "She will love the flowers, Raven. It was very thoughtful of you. My mother is just vain and selfish. You were worried about her feeling burdened by you coming home with me. Trust me, the only burden in her life is her disappointment of a son." I point to myself and then steal a look at her. She's staring back at me with her mouth slightly open. "Eyes on the road, Jeeves," I tease, as I reach for the radio again. She slaps my hand. "Ouch. What's with you, woman? Is there a no-music mandate in this micro car? Must you suck out all the enjoyment?"

  "Only when passengers are dropping hints about major family drama and then trying to pass it off as nothing."

  "It is what it is, Raven. She has two step-kids that she dotes on, slightly less than herself, and my stepdad is a dick. The end." I run my finger along the seam on the faux-leather seat and feel her eyes on me.

  "I can't believe you're a disappointment to anyone, Collin." Her expression is sickeningly sympathetic, but she seems genuine. "Trust me, though, I get the whole step family gig. It blows."

  I smile at her. I can't remember the last time I met anyone I felt I could talk to about this stuff. Not that I'm going to.

  *** *** ***

  "You are going to get out of the car, right?" Raven has been parked in my parent's driveway, near motionless, for at least two minutes now. She's gone from fair to ashen.

  "Holy shit," she says, for the second time in a row.

  I gaze at her, as she stares up at the house with her mouth slightly open. I reach over and touch her gently on the arm. "Are you having a stroke or something?" I follow her gaze and attempt to view the house as she does. Fountains, ornate landscaping, and towering pillars—I guess it's a lot to take in. She probably thinks I'm trying to show off. That's the last thing I want to do. How do I explain to her that none of this fancy stuff makes me happy, and it never has, without coming off like an ungrateful asshole?

  "Collin, why didn't you tell me you're insanely rich? My house could fit inside your house at least ten times. I'm so intimidated right now. I thought you were kidding when you said your mom had an assistant!" I notice her glance over her shoulder at the flowers in the backseat of the car.

  "Raven." I put my hand on her shoulder coaxing her to look at me, but she won't. "Chill out, OK? It's just a house. Besides, it's what's inside the house that counts." I wait until she shifts her eyes to mine. "And trust me, there's a whole lotta nothing inside that house." I smirk at her.

  "Stop it!" A small smile finally emerges on her face. "I'm sure your family is great. Super-duper fancy and great." She rests her head on the steering wheel and makes no move to get out of the car.

  "OK, Raven, time to get out. Either exit on your own, or I'll carry you in there, and then we'll really have a lot of explaining to do."

  Sighing, she slowly reaches in the back and retrieves her flowers. She's totally melting down just looking at the outside of my house. I didn't expect this, though maybe I should've. Just wait until she gets a load of the loonies that live in there. Ah, shit. Maybe this was a mistake. I never bring people around for a lot of reasons, but after I asked her I got kind of excited that she'd said yes. I'm realizing now I probably should've prepared her more for her visit to the nut house. I need to find a way for this to be as painless for her as I can, which may be mission impossible. Here goes nothing. I stroll around to the driver's side of the car and open her door, extending my palm. She accepts it warily, refusing to look me in the eye, as she gets out of the car.

  I walk her up the path to my front door trying to figure out what she's thinking. "So, your dazed expression may be a clue that now isn't the best time to give you the sixty second run-down on my family, but here goes anyway: I have a slightly older step brother who is high just about ninety-percent of the time, but somehow manages to be the family hero; a younger step-sister, Reba, who rivals my mother for self-absorption; and a stepdad, Victor, who hates me. And thaaaats it." Raven says nothing and I'm wondering what I'll do if she makes a sudden bolt for the car. "Still with me, Rave?"

  "I'm so going to kick your ass, Collin." Her eyes flutter and then she levels me with her all-business glare. And she's back.

  Raven (Ten Years Prior)

  "I'm going to open the door now." Collin's tone is cautious, and he's eyeing me up and down. I don't think I've ever seen him look so concerned about anything. In spite of the frantic butterflies in my stomach, I roll my eyes at him. It seems like the only way I can show him that I'm OK. Although, I'm pretty sure I'm not. He pushes the door open and we step into the largest foyer I've ever seen in my life. The stark white walls are ordained with large paintings in gold frames. The floor is marble, glossy, and looks like it belongs in a museum or theater. Everything from the furniture to the staircase railing seems oversized and like it should be incased in glass. I glance into the adjacent room and spy a majestic looking grand piano. I can feel Collin's eyes boring into me, and just as I turn to face him; a girl comes bounding down the spiral staircase. She's wearing headphones and is staring down at some sort of MP3 player. She doesn't even look up until she reaches the bottom stair. I'm guessing this is Reba. Her mousy, brown hair is twisted and coiled into a pile of curls on top of her head. I don't think I've ever had an up-do that fancy, not even for my senior prom. I don't have to read the labels on her clothes to know that they're all designer and she's covered in sparkly jewelry…What have I gotten myself into?

  She pauses briefly, gives me an unimpressed once-over, nods at Collin, and then calls out down the hall: "Collin's here and he brought some girl with him." She continues down the hallway and is quickly out of my sight.

  I feel my face go hot. I stare down at my blouse and brown corduroy skirt and suddenly feel like a high school outcast. "Reba?" I question. He nods. "Is she always so charming?"

  Collin smirks. "Yeah, it's best to just ignore her." He leans in closer to me and cups his hand by his mouth. "Listen, her rudeness toward you is just a reflection of her jealousy."

  I jerk my head back. "Um, jealousy? What on earth could she be jealous about? On what planet does that even make sense?"

  "This one. The prettier the girl, the colder she is. Let's just say Reba doesn't like to feel upstaged and so she took one look at you and put on her bitchy pants."

  I smile at him and let out a small giggle. "Bitchy pants?" Where did you come up with that one? What exactly are ‘bitchy pants', Collin?"

  "I don't really have any idea, but I'm pretty confident that Reba owns a lot of them." He tilts his head toward the hall. "C'mon, we can't hide out here all morning." He examines the look on my face and laughs. "Don't worry, Raven, there will be plenty of time for hiding away later, and I know all the good spots, but for now you've gotta meet the fam."

  Collin guides me through the house and with each step, every room is grander than the last; I try hard to eradicate the stupid look on my face. Finally, we reach the kitchen where my nose is assaulted by the smell of an array of fine foods before we even round the corner. The kitchen is incredible. It's filled with top-of-the-line appliances, two side-by-side stoves and beautiful white cabinets with glossy countertops. If my stepmother were here she'd claim she had died and gone to heaven. The woman who must be Collin's mother, is standing near a large kitchen island examining boxes and bags, while at least a half-dozen staff scurry about.

  "Hello, Mother." Collin's voice is quiet, muted even. She barely glances at him, and immediately turns he
r attention back to the large boxes and bags of catered food. The turkey is being lifted and placed on a tray embellished with parsley and other garnishes.

  "Hello, Collin. I see you couldn't be bothered to tuck in your shirt, even on Thanksgiving Day with your family." Her tone is cold and unfeeling. My mom had this friend when I was growing up who always talked about auras and energy. I never put much stock in it, but all at once I feel as though I know exactly what she was going on about. There's a feeling that just surrounds Collin's mother that sends goosebumps cascading down my arms. It isn't exactly fear that I'm feeling, but definitely something akin to it.

  "Apparently not, I guess I forgot my manners." Collin's deadpans, and he makes no move, I note, to tuck in his shirt. He then places a hand gently on my shoulder. "Speaking of which, there's someone here that I want you to meet."

  For the first time since entering the kitchen I get a clearer view of her face. Collin told me once that he looks a lot like his dad did, but the likeness he shares with his mother is unmistakable. I see it most in the shape of their noses and high cheekbones. She's attractive for sure, but there's something very artificial about her beauty. Her features are constricted and tight in a way that suggests plastic surgery. Also, she's miniature, much shorter than me, and nowhere near Collin's height.

  "Um, hello, Mrs. Jackson. I'm Raven…er uh, Rachel. Everyone calls me Raven. You can call me either." All of her attention has shifted to me and I feel Collin's hand glide from my shoulder down to my back, as though he's supporting my spine in case I pass out. "It doesn't matter. Anyway, thank you so much for having me. The food smells wonderful. Your house is just incredible." She's still staring at me blankly. I thrust the bouquet of flowers in her direction. "These are for you." I feel dumb as I stare down at my pathetic flowers that look like something a five-year-old put together compared to the many ornate arrangements throughout the house. She reaches for them and all her features soften slightly. She smiles.