“Of course. That’s what I figured.” She smiled and nodded. “I thought it would be easier just to stop by.”
I probably should have listened to one of those messages because I have no idea why she’s here…
“And here you are…” I forced a smile.
“I assume you know why if you heard the messages?” She tilted her head. “My mom is hosting Christmas dinner for the family this year—I was hoping you would come…”
“Uh…” I put my hand on the back of my head and looked away. “I don’t know. I’ve got so much work to do.”
“Surely, you aren’t working on Christmas Day!” She narrowed her eyes. “Are you?”
“No…” I sighed as I realized that I had no more lies I could push back with.
“Good!” Her eyes slowly drifted to the bottle of wine in my hand.
She’s either mentally judging the fact I was planning to drink alone or hoping I’ll share—damn it; I think my bubble bath and date night are going to have to be postponed.
“Would you like to come upstairs and have a glass with me?” I lifted the bottle in defeat.
“Sure! That would be awesome!” She nodded quickly.
I ended up with a rather large extended family after my father remarried. My stepmother had three sisters and two brothers—her parents were either really in love, or really didn’t believe in birth control. Starla and I were almost the same age, but I had a few months on her. She was one of the few members of my extended family that acted like we were more than strangers thrown together by circumstance. That didn’t mean I wanted to have Christmas dinner with her family—but she was the first one that had ever done more than leave a voicemail to let me know that I was invited. She was also the only member of my family that had ever been to my apartment. I could have accepted her invitation and ushered her to the exit, but I would have felt guilty after she came all that way—I did have a heart, even if I wasn’t in the holiday spirit.
“So, what’ve you been up to lately?” I handed Starla a glass of wine and sat down. “Are you still on the college treadmill?”
“Yeah.” She nodded and sipped her wine. “Did you ever go back, or is the new job keeping you busy?”
“Too busy at the moment.” I shrugged. “I’d like to finish one day, but it isn’t really necessary right now—it’s not like they’re going to start paying me more money because I have a degree.”
“That makes sense.” She nodded again and looked around my apartment. “You don’t have a Christmas tree?”
“No.” I shook my head quickly.
“Not even a wreath—or mistletoe?” Her eyes continued to wander.
“You know I’m not a big fan of the holidays.” I took a rather large sip of my wine.
“Yeah…” She sighed. “Those first few years after your parents got divorced were hard.”
More than just the first few years—I just finally decided that it was better to lower my expectations than expect my parents to meet them.
The year my father started dating again was the most difficult one of all. Instead of spending Christmas morning with my mother and going to his house to open more presents like I had done the previous year, he took me to meet his girlfriend’s family. I got lost in a sea of people I didn’t know after he dragged me around for the initial introductions. I learned that I was no longer as important to my father as I used to be—I was just baggage that he was obligated to haul around. If it hadn’t been for Starla, I would have probably hidden behind the Christmas tree until it was time for us to go.
“I know it was kind of pushy of me to show up here uninvited.” Starla finished her glass of wine and reached for the bottle. “It’s just been a couple of years since you’ve come for Christmas Dinner, and nobody should have to spend the holidays alone…”
“I’m sure you’re the only one that noticed I wasn’t there.” I rolled my eyes and refilled my glass of wine.
“Your dad loves you…” She let her words trail off.
Maybe he does, but that doesn’t change the fact that he slowly began to forget I existed after he got a new family.
“I’ll stop by for a little while.” I nodded and sipped my wine.
It was always obvious that I was only there because my father felt like he was obligated to bring me. When I turned sixteen and was officially old enough to drive myself, I still went—for a couple of years. I realized that I could walk through the door, say hello to a few people, give my father his gift, and be back in my car before the hood got cold. Eventually, I stopped going entirely. The holiday season turned into a transa
ction. I had my father’s gift shipped to his house—he normally just mailed me a check. I wasn’t sure how long we would even bother to do that. He had his life, and I had mine—I felt like I had outgrown my family.
“Your mom isn’t planning anything, right?” Starla got up and walked to the window.