Of Family Gatherings

a woman makes the journey home, and a father finally accepts.

 

Her arrival was announced with a sharp cry and a shattering of ceramic on the kitchen floor.

Aunt Marie was the source of the disturbance, dropping her plate on her way to second helpings of turkey and dressing. Aunt Marie was a large, sensible woman, who treasured the simple things: good food, good gossip, good company and the Good Book. She wasn’t prone to dramatics or losing control. So when the rest of the family heard the crash and yelp of surprise they took notice.

All the siblings and aunts and uncles and cousins crowded in the doorway, peering over shoulders and straining necks to see the cause of Aunt Marie’s shock. Richard, being one of the taller men, stood in the back, looking over heads. He could see Aunt Marie, her more-salt-than-pepper-hair, the bright floral pattern of her sweater, facing the back door. Standing on the other side of the screen was a young woman. In one hand she held the handle of a cherry red suitcase. Her other hand was holding her slightly and suspiciously round stomach.

                The woman didn’t say anything; she looked a bit pale. Her eyes darted from Aunt Marie to the crowd of family behind her. The silence stretched.

                “Well good Lord!” Aunt Marie finally exclaimed, walking forward to open the screen door. “Come in, don’t just stand there, you’re late enough as it is.” The woman walked in with a relieved smile. “Be careful of that plate, Jimmy come clean that up-” one of the cousins darted away for a broom “-I’m afraid you’ve missed most of the food, but we can get you together something I’m sure.”

                The rest of the family followed Aunt Marie’s attitude, quickly relieving the tension. While Jimmy swept up the broken shards and his brother Michael took her suitcase, the noise level shot up in a flurry of activity. Dishes were put in the sink, coffee and pecan pie passed around. Family crowded around the newcomer with warm hugs and greetings; only Richard hung back.

                He hadn’t seen her in a while, but she looked well. Her favorite cousins were standing close, asking questions. Are you…? Really! How far along? Four months, wow! Is it that guy we last heard about?  Are you still with that company? Where are you living? She smiled and gave hugs and talked quickly, trying to fit nearly two years’ worth of life into a two minute summary. 

 But quickly the scene ended, and they left en mass to the living room, a far more comfortable place to sit and digest.

                Only two people were left in the kitchen. The young woman stood near the stove, picking over a plate of leftovers some well-meaning Aunt had thrust into her hands. Richard stood on the opposite side of the island in the small kitchen, his coffee sitting untouched on the counter behind him. The woman kept her eyes on her turkey plate, leaning casually against the counter, letting her long blond hair cover her face from sight. He matched her stance, resting his hands behind him, but did not look away. He said nothing, but stared at her, waiting, until finally she looked up.

                “Hey Daddy,” she said. She gave a smile that didn’t quite manage to hide the anxiety in her eyes. Richard didn’t react to this mass understatement.

                “Hey Christi,” he said coolly. “How have you been?”

                “Alright,” she said. “How are you?”

                “Still in Nashville?” He asked, overriding her inquiry.

                Her smile faded. “Still in Nashville,” she confirmed.

                “I see. They get rid of phones in Nashville?”

                Christi’s fingers stopped in the process of tearing the white turkey breast. “No, no they still have phones. Things just ah- came up.”

                “So I see.” He saw her blush.

                “Yeah.” She looked down again.

                “So who’s the guy?”

                “David- I told you about him. Last time I called?”

                “Oh I remember. I just didn’t know if maybe you’d moved on since then. You know, since it’s been so-”

                “Yeah, I know,” she said, this time irritation creeping into her voice.

                “So where is he?” He turned toward the back door, half-expecting to see a man there, waiting to come in.

                “I don’t know.”

                Richard stopped.

                “What?”

“He’s gone.” Christi looked down at her hands.

“Jesus, Christi are you serious?”

“Would I make that up?” she snapped.

Richard found he was at a loss for words. “Christi…” he repeated. She was picking her nails, refusing to look up.

                “What are you going to do?”

                “Not sure, actually,” she said. Her lips took a bitter twist. “I’ll figure it out. It’s not like I’ve never had to take care of kids before.”

                The barb stung. “Great,” he snorted. “You want bring that up.”

                “Well yeah,” she snapped back. “I guess I do.” She crossed her arms, pursing her lips at her father.

                “Look, what do you want me to say?” he said, crossing the kitchen, “That I messed up? That I wasn’t around when I should have been? That I abandoned my kids?

                “Well I did.”

                Christi stopped glaring.

                Richard sighed, letting go of every bitter, hateful thought. Every hurtful thing he had thought to say faded away. He stared at the woman before him, and realized, buried deep underneath the anger and hurt, he was just happy she was home. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to take on so much responsibility. I shouldn’t have made you do it.” Now it was Richard’s turn to examine the floor tiles. “I’m sorry.”

                “Daddy,” Christi said. “I didn’t mind taking care of Kevin and Katie. It wasn’t that.”

                “Then what was it?” Richard said. “What made you leave?”

                Her face softened; Richard thought it almost looked like a laugh pass across her smile. “You never did listen, did you?” she said, shaking her head.

                “I guess not,” he replied, then realized…”Is that why?”

                Now she really did laugh, just a bit. “There you go.”

                “I was so mad at you,” he said, thinking back over the past two years, back to the day she had called from the bus stop, telling him he needed to pick the kids up at three. “I knew it was wrong of me, I knew I had asked you to do too much, but with your mom gone, I just couldn’t handle it. And then you were gone too…” his voice trailed off. Christi smiled.

                “Daddy, I was nineteen,” she said. “I was out of school, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, and I was missing my mom. Kevin and Katie grounded me, kept me sane.”

                “So what finally did it, then? What made you leave?” he shook his head, finally letting his guard down. “What did I miss?”

                She shrugged. “After three years, I figured it was time for you to start paying attention to us again.” Her words hurt, but instead of lashing back, he took them in, listened. He saw she was still smiling, and now her hand was on his arm.

                “I was ready to move on, and I needed you to be too. When I saw you weren’t, I knew I was going to have to do it the hard way. Just leave.”

                He thought about the time she had been gone, how he had been forced to be a Dad again, instead of just the guy who bought the groceries and paid the mortgage.  He remembered playing baseball with Kevin, attending Katie’s school play.

                And he smiled.

                His daughter smiled back.

                He reached for a piece of her turkey.  Christi popped a piece into her mouth. They chewed in content silence.

                “So really,” Richard asked concerned, “what’s your plan?” He nodded toward her figure. She sighed, showing more worry than before.

                “Really, I don’t know.” She looked at her dad. “When David bailed, I sort of freaked. I guess I thought if I came home, everything would magically fall into place.”

                “Is that so?”

                “Yeah,” she said, back to nonchalant grazing.

                “Well you know,” he started, “if you came home, for good, that might just happen.”

                Christi grinned. “What, you offering free baby-sitting?”

                “What, me?” he scoffed with a smile. “Nah. But I’m sure Aunt Marie will.” He turned serious. “What do you think? Maybe find an apartment close by, we can all help you out?”

                Christi nodded slowly. “I think that sounds nice.”

                Richard breathed. “Yeah?”

                “Yeah, I think so.” She smiled, and helped herself to some sweet potatoes. In the living room, they could hear uncles and cousins cheering on the football game, and Aunt Marie giving Aunt Barbra advice on the best way to make that cherry tree in the front yard blossom come spring.

                 

Author's Note

I'm wondering how authentic Richard and Christi's emotions feel- is their relationship believable, their reactions to each other and their past conflict strong and clear? Also, anything else that caught your eye for improving/tweaking/whatever would be greatly appreciated.

Reviews

[Anna]

WOW!!! wait so is there a second part to this? amzing job

[Kate]

This piece in particular caught my eye because we tend to be of the same writing kin. A novel that I keep revamping and restructuring keeps focusing on a lost sibling's return "home" after years of distance. So, automatically, I'm predisposed to like the tale you weave.

On to more important things.

One thing that initially struck me as off is how quickly Christi opens up about her missing significant other. The build up of tension preceding this moment is impeccable, and I wanted it to diffuse throughout the entire story. You say you wonder if the emotion between father and daughter is authentic enough. I think the good intention is there, that Richard is a stubborn man, hurt that his daughter has gone so long without contacting him but still concerned for her well-being, but I think that the concern, that the care should be harder to come by. Do you know what I mean? I feel like part of this story is the struggle to regain a lost relationship or rather mend a torn relationship between the two. I could completely wrong, of course, I've been wrong before ;) Essentially, I want Richard to break much later in the story. I want him to give her the silent treatment, or tough love, or make her understand that she has to work harder for his affection than simply showing up at the front door. Richard reminds me of an ornery cat someone is trying to talk out of a tree; disinterested, stubborn, and will only come down on his own terms.

Around this same part of the story, I'm also beginning to question which character's point of view we're following. My first instinct is that you've presented us with a very detached, omniscient narrator, but further through the piece you begin siding with Richard. I almost wish that you maintain the same distance as you did in the beginning of the piece.

On the first read, I thought this was perhaps the first chapter of a much longer work. The tension you've created at the beginning leads me to believe that there is much more work to be done as far as mending and healing. My advice would be to lengthen the story, turn it into a novella if you have to, and show your readers the struggle, the conflict, the persistence that I know Christi has within her.

Some closing notes: beautiful, smooth writing, fantastic hook, and good character development.