Or too much of a coward, Nick thought. Anger clenched hot and tight in his stomach.
Then, more softly, his mother added, “I miss you, Nick. Please come home.”
“I’ll think about it,” he said. “I can’t talk more now. I have to go. I’m cooking and it’s nearly ready.”
“Okay.”
“Bye, Mum.” He ended the call and sank into one of the kitchen chairs with a growl of frustration.
“What’s going on?” Jackson turned from the cooker and raised a sympathetic eyebrow. Their friendship went back far enough that he’d witnessed Nick’s rift with his parents.
“She wants me to come home for Christmas.” Nick sighed. “And so does Maria… although apparently she wasn’t going to tell me that. But my mother had no qualms about playing the nephew’s-first-Christmas card to try and persuade me.”
“Are you going to do it?” Jackson frowned.
“I dunno. Is that chicken done now?” Nick was hungry, and he wanted time for his whirling thoughts to settle a little. “Can we talk about it later?”
“Sure, man. Whatever you need.”
They ate in front of the TV. Jackson picked Deadpool to watch—a favourite for both of them—and Nick was glad it was something he’d seen before because he wasn’t able to concentrate on it properly. His relaxing Friday night had been knocked off course and anxiety tugged at him, like a child trying to get his attention.
He glanced sideways as Jackson laughed at something on the screen, and the hard edges of his mood softened a little.
Nick was grateful to have such a good friend. Although it was good to have someone to talk to when he needed, it was worth even more to have someone who let him not talk until he was ready. Jackson’s solid presence made him feel comforted and safe. Jackson always had his back. He’d wait until Nick was ready to spill his tangled thoughts, and he’d help him unravel them if necessary.
Once the film was over and the credits were playing, Nick turned to Jackson and said, “I think I want to do it.”
“Yeah?” Jackson picked up the remote and turned the TV off.
“Yep. I reckon I can handle being under the same roof as him for a couple of nights. At least he’s not drinking anymore.”
“Are you sure?”
“No,” Nick replied. “Not at all. But it’s the least shitty option. I want to see my sister and her family, and Maria wants to see me. I don’t want all of us to miss out on being together because of my father.”
“I get it.” Jackson nodded and then added, “But I hope you’re going to break it to my mum, because she’ll be gutted you’re not coming for Christmas there.”
“Yeah. I’ll tell her.” Jackson’s mum had become a substitute for his own, and she treated Nick like one of the family. His heart sank at the thought of missing out on their noisy, chaotic brand of Christmas.
Was he mad to go back home? He’d be lost among people who were worse than strangers. At least with strangers you had no expectations. Whereas most of Nick’s family relationships were tense and difficult.
He’d barely exchanged more than a few words with his father in years. Even at his gran’s funeral Nick had offered his condolences politely and then avoided his father for the rest of the afternoon. Things with his mother were tricky too, with years of resentment and guilt stacked up on both sides. He and his younger brother Pete had never got along well either. Close in age, but not in any other way, they’d spent their childhood arguing and fighting. During adolescence they’d grown apart, too different to find any common ground.
His sister Maria was the only one he could consider a true ally—and her husband Adrian—but they were bound to be distracted by the responsibilities of parenthood. Nick couldn’t expect too much from them.
“I wish you could come with me,” he said wistfully. “I could use the moral support.”
There was a silence, and Nick immediately regretted voicing his thoughts. It wasn’t fair to ask Jackson to give up seeing his own family at Christmas, even if it was feasible.
“I would,” Jackson said. “If you want me to.” His gaze was steady and sure.
“But I can’t just invite you home for Christmas. They’d think that was weird. I mean… they know we’re close and usually spend Christmas together at yours. But that’s different.”
“Hmm. I guess.”
“Unless….” Cogs started to turn in Nick’s mind as a plan formed. “What if I tell them you’re my boyfriend now? Then it wouldn’t seem odd to ask if you can come with me, and they can hardly say no, can they?” With Jackson by his side, Nick knew he could face his father’s habitual disapproval and hostility.
Jackson’s eyes widened. “Um, no. But, Nick….”
“Yeah. I know. It’s not fair to ask you to give up Christmas with your own family. Sorry, man. It was a stu—”