CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Men, most of us are assholes
VANESSA
The holidays suck.
I never should’ve agreed to come home.
The first couple of days were easy. My parents were both busy with work, so we barely said more than a few words to one another.
I was able to explore the city like I used to, walking around with my camera, taking photos of anything that piqued my interest. Boston is a big city, but it doesn’t have the same hustle and bustle of New York. Who knew I’d miss the crowded sidewalks and rude motorists shouting at people on the street. Although I think I missed the single-slice pizza from Pinoppio’s the most. Nothing beats a fresh slice of pepperoni on a cold day to warm you up.
My parents decided to host Christmas at our condo in Manhattan this year rather than the house in the Hamptons, although it’s not much of a difference besides not being right on the beach. My parents’ condo is something you’d see in a movie. It has two floors, six bedrooms, six bathrooms, and a massive balcony that wraps around the entire place. The building also comes with its own amenities like a private elevator, a pool, a private gym and sauna, and a relaxation room—which is basically just a glorified office space with small water fountains and a juice bar.
Everything is the same as when I moved out three years ago. Bright marble flooring, and white cabinets and walls—no warmth to be found besides a small vase of flowers sitting in the middle of the island.The furniture is all modern with glass coffee tables, sleek black leather couches, and a beige area rug to add color as my mom once said.
That’s why my place in Boston is full of color. I don’t want people to feel as if they walked into a hospital rather than my childhood home.
The only spot in this entire place that feels like home is my room.
I packed up most of my belongings and took them to Boston, but I still have a few of my things left here. My old bed, with a custom-made quilt I purchased from a flea market, sits in the middle of my room, I covered the hardwood floors in the bedroom with multiple area rugs, all ranging from earthy greens to dusty blues. The walls are still full of my photos—some I took when we went on vacations, and a few that won me prizes in school.
It’s as if my parents hadn’t opened my door since I left.
I tried to stay in my room as long as possible today, but once the family started arriving, Mom forced me to be social—which is why I’m currently sitting in the living room with a glass of wine, far away from everyone who’s chatting about the upcoming election and what everyone’s been up to, a.k.a comparing lives to see who’s outshining who.
My parents look like they’ve been plucked out of a GQ magazine. Dad’s hair and beard are trimmed perfectly, the gray of his hair almost matches the color of his sleek suit. Although he looks a little unkempt with his dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar. I’m sure Mom will give him a backhanded compliment later.
Mom went for her signature look—dark gray slacks with a white cashmere sweater. The chestnut curls that I’ve inherited from her are pulled back tightly into a ponytail, not one hair out of place.I decided to stick with my regular wardrobe, light-washed blue jeans and a tight black turtleneck. It’s basic, but still somewhat dressed up.You’d think for the holidays my family might want to relax, wear more comfortable clothes, but my family is the opposite. Holidays are for fine dining, classy outfits, and catty conversations.
“Vanessa?” A deep voice comes from behind me, taking my focus off our family that’s congregating near the dining room.
I turn around to find my cousin Theo and his boyfriend, Curtis. They both look so put together—Theo’s in dark brown plaid dress pants and a black turtleneck, the fit is similar to mine, tight fitting and showing off his muscles. His dark hair kept short, and his beard is well-groomed and maintained, looking as if he just got a fresh trim. Curtis is the opposite of Theo. Curtis is the opposite of Theo, with curly blond hair and a tall slim build. His dress shirt is also unbuttoned, but open enough to see his chest and the pendant necklace he’s wearing.
“Theo, hey.” I get up to hug my cousin. “It’s good to see you. How are you guys?”
They walk around the couch, sitting down across from me.
“Good.” He looks over at our family that’s huddled with their red wine and scotches. “Glad to find someone sane in this house.” He motions his glass to me, and I toast him.
I guess I’m not the only one who feels out of place here.
Theo has his life together for the most part, and everyone in the family adores him. I need to remind myself to not spill too much. You never know who you can trust in our family.
“How’s school going?”
“Oh, uh…” I think back to the conversation I had with my parents a month ago, Mom insisting that she tell the family I’m undeclared and still haven’t made my mind up.
Well fuck that. I’m tired of lying to my family. If they’re disappointed in me, then so be it, but I’m done hiding who I am.
“It’s going great. I’m working with BCU’s hockey team, managing their social media accounts.”
“That’s pretty cool.” Theo leans back into the couch, extending his arm behind Curtis. “Are you still into photography? I remember you used to always have a camera in your hand growing up.”
Memories of running around with a disposable camera, taking photos of myself, my cousins, and our whole family come rushing back to me. Memories that I kept locked away. I used to take pictures everywhere. Whether we were at someone’s house or on vacation. I’ve always felt the need to capture everything.
“Yeah, I’m majoring in journalism with a minor in film and photography. It’s been really great so far.”
“Good, I’m glad to hear that at least one of us has pursued our interests.”
His answer comes as a surprise. “Are you not excited about your residency at Johns Hopkins?”
Curtis moves his hand to Theo’s knee, giving it a slight squeeze. The gesture doesn’t go unnoticed. Jake used to shake his knee when he was anxious, and I’d always put my hand on it to calm him down.
Theo takes a sip of his scotch before leaning in closer to me, his eyes panning back and forth from us to the rest of our family, making sure they can’t hear. “I’m not going to Johns Hopkins.”
I nearly spit out my wine. “What?”
“Curtis and I are moving to Seattle, and I’m going to do my residency there. We haven’t told the family yet.”
My mouth hangs open, still shocked. The last I heard, all my cousins were doing so well, becoming so successful and making the family proud. I don’t want to say it’s nice to hear that one of my cousins is like me, but it’s nice not feeling as alone.
“Curtis’s job is transferring him to their office in Seattle, and we thought that it’s the perfect opportunity to get away from, well, all of this. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but our family can be quite exhausting.” He motions around us. I know the stresses of our family all too well, he’s preaching to the choir.
“I’m so happy for you two. I hope it goes well. I’ve always wanted to see Seattle.”
“You’re more than welcome to come visit us once we’re settled. I’m sure your camera would love to see some of those beautiful sights in Washington.” Curtis smiles at me, and all I feel is warmth. For once, I’m okay with a family gathering.
“So, give us the gossip, what’s going on in your life? Friends? Boyfriend? Girlfriend? It’s been ages. I wanted to catch up at the funeral, but your parents said you came down with a cold and couldn’t make it.” Hmm, good lie.
“Oh…yeah, I had the flu.” I know I shouldn’t cover for my parents, and I could easily out them for lying, but I decide to let it go. “My life isn’t too exciting. Same friends—Sydney and Maddie, my roommates.”
“No love life?” Curtis asks.
I take another sip of wine, not wanting to answer that question.
“Oh, I can tell by that look in your eyes that you have something juicy.”
I shake my head. “No. There was this guy but…things didn’t work out.”
“ Men .” Theo sighs. “Most of us are assholes.”
“I wish I could say I don’t agree, but I do.”
“What’d he do?”
I’m about to open my mouth and answer when we all get called over for dinner. We walk over to the open-concept dining room. The long quartz table is filled with an assortment of meats, cheeses, and side dishes. Everything from a roasted turkey down to mashed potatoes and brussels sprouts. The table is decorated with tall candles, scattered pinecones, poinsettias, and greenery.
I take the seat next to Theo and my dad, my mom sitting next to him at the head of the table. Very fitting for their relationship.
The sound of forks hitting plates and scooping food immediately fills the silence. Everyone’s passing around plates and bowls, grabbing a little bit of everything.Soon, the conversation starts. Uncle Richard goes on about how his friend is running for governor, and Aunt Helen boasts about helping with the campaign. For a while, the adults chat about their lives, comparing everything from vacations to what events they were invited to.
I don’t know why I agreed to come here.
That’s a lie.
I was lonely and vulnerable and thought that getting out of Boston would help clear my head. Nothing is working. I can’t stop thinking about Jake and our situation. There are moments when I think I should reach out and make things civil between us. Like Maddie said, we’ll have to be around each other for the remainder of the season. I don’t know if I can forgive him for what he did, but I can try to pretend to be okay until this is over.
We make it through dinner and dessert, and I barely say a word the entire time except for my small conversation with Theo and Curtis. My other cousins, Mark and Sarah, decided to spend their Christmas with their grandparents. I wish my dad’s parents were still around so I had an out too.
“Vanessa, why don’t you grab that silly little camera from your room so we can take a family photo.” Mom waves her hand at me, her insult hit its mark.
Theo sees me tense, and I’m ready to let my entire family have it, all this pent-up aggression I have toward them. I’m tired of feeling like I need to tone myself down to fit into the family standard they’ve created.
“It’s not a ‘ silly little camera ,’ it’s what I’m going to school for. I’ve pursued photography since I was a kid, and you still refuse to recognize how important it is to me.”
She looks taken aback by my comment. Good.
Her smile doesn’t falter, instead she keeps her teeth clenched as she addresses me for talking back to her in front of our family. “Vanessa.”
“ No . I’ve been here almost a week, and you’ve barely said more than five words to me. You don’t care about me. You don’t care about my hobbies or my passion. I don’t even know why I agreed to come home.”
“You shouldn’t speak to your mother that way, she’s the one who pays for all your expensive hobbies, your schooling, and your accommodations,” Aunt Helen mutters from across the table.
My eyes land on my aunt, the cold-hearted bitch that she is. “Maybe you should take a hard look at yourself and figure out why your kids don’t want to spend the holidays with you. News flash , it’s because you’re selfish and you also don’t care about your kids besides how successful they are.”
The room fills with gasps. Screw it, I’ve already gone this far, might as well give them all hell.
“You should all take a hard look at yourselves. Look at this family—all of you competing with one another, trying to be the best. The only thing that you’re all successful at doing is ruining this family.” I make sure to eye each and every one of the adults present.
The room is full of hard stares and silence, until a muffled laugh comes from Theo and Curtis. They love that I’m finally unleashing my feelings onto the family. My dad, on the other hand, isn’t as impressed.
“Vanessa, how about we excuse ourselves for a moment?”
I throw my napkin onto my plate and get up without waiting for him to follow me. I head to my room, my pace faster than it should be, but I need to get out of here. This was a mistake.
My bag is still on the floor by my closet, I grab it, tossing it on the bed to start packing. I’m rummaging through my bathroom grabbing my toiletries when my dad finally walks in.
“What the hell was that?”
I roll my eyes at him. A gesture he’s more than used to by now.
“This family is ridiculous. I don’t know how you put up with them, especially after all these years, but I’m not . I’m going back to Boston.”
“Vanessa, it’s Christmas.”
I turn around swiftly, meeting my father’s eyes, which are identical to my own. “ Exactly, Dad. It’s Christmas. A time when families gather to spend time with one another. They talk and laugh and have fun. Our family sucks the life out of every holiday and I’m over it. I’d rather be home alone eating takeout than spend another day here.”
I exit the bathroom, walking back into my room, placing my products into my bag.
“I know your mother’s comment upset you.”
“ Upset me ? Dad, she’s never supported me or my love of photography. Neither of you have. All you two care about is making me look good in front of this family.”
“That’s not true.”
“ It’s not ? Please, enlighten me then.”
“Vanessa, of course we care about you. We want to make sure that you’re set up in life and that you can provide for yourself. With or without a family. We don’t want you to have to depend on anyone but yourself.”
I have to stop myself from laughing in his face. They wanted me to be independent and yet disproved of all my life decisions. Isn’t that a little contradictory?
“Well, in doing that you two really fucked up the relationship you have with your only child.”
“Let’s stop it with the temper tantrum. You have a beautiful life. We’ve provided everything for you—all the tools you need for success. Most people would kill to be as privileged as you.”
I never once forgot how privileged I am in this life. But I do not need to sit at a family dinner and get degraded.
I shove the remaining clothes in my bag before zipping it up. Dad’s standing next to the door with his arms crossed over his chest, not happy that his daughter is finally standing up for herself.
“You wanted an independent daughter, well congrats, you got one.”
I walk out of my room, my carry-on in tow behind me. My flight doesn’t leave until tomorrow morning, but I’d rather spend my Christmas night sitting in an uncomfortable chair at the airport listening to a baby cry than deal with my family for another minute.