Chapter 13 Dan
DAN
Archer
Hey dipshit, you’re late. You better be on your way.
Iwasn’t late. I pulled up to my dad’s house right on time.
And then I drove right past it.
I’ve circled the block twice, trying to steel myself to park and go inside for family dinner.
And anyway, it’s only five past six. Dad’s text calling Archer, Felix, Owen, Grace, and me to dinner at his house told us to show up “around” six.
Not that Archer will accept that answer.
With a sigh, I pull the BMW to a stop behind the trio of pickup trucks belonging to my brothers and Decker’s vintage Bronco.
The house I grew up in is small and tidy thanks to my Dad, who owns a hardware store and has never once let anything stay broken or unkempt for more than five minutes.
He instilled that work ethic in all of us, even if we each went in a different direction with it.
I know my dad has always shaken his head at my work in finance, but he’s the reason I was able to do it in the first place.
Those late nights studying? All those extra hours in the office? That was because of his example.
I love my father.
And I still don’t want to go to this dinner.
As soon as I open the front door, I hear the familiar sounds of my boisterous family.
They were the soundtrack of my life for the first eighteen years.
They were the reason I bought my first pair of noise-cancelling headphones when I was thirteen.
When I moved away, I missed them, but I relished having peace and quiet for the first time in my life.
“Do not put that hot casserole dish on the table without a trivet!” Grace shrieks from the kitchen.
“What the fuck is a trivet?” Felix calls back, but he’s grinning at his twin brother Owen, because he absolutely knows what a trivet is. Teasing is Felix’s love language, and annoying Grace is the cherry on top.
“You two are useless,” Grace gripes, stomping out of the kitchen with a dish towel thrown over her shoulder, only to watch as Felix places whatever gooey, cheesy monstrosity she’s cooked onto a felt hot pad on our old dining room table.
There’s a card table set up at the end, and I’m barely done counting chairs before the rest of my family descends.
“You’re late,” Archer says with a brotherly glare. He drops his enormous athletic frame into a chair beside my dad’s spot at the head of the table. Archer spent his entire life playing hockey, first at University of Michigan and then in the NHL, until a knee injury ended his career.
He’s also a bit of a bossy bitch. Classic oldest brother shit.
“He’s fine, Arch,” Dad says, patting my brother on the shoulder.
“Good to see you, Dan,” says Corianne, my dad’s yoga teacher turned girlfriend, from beside him.
We all love her, and she’s so good for Dad, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t strange to see a woman sitting at our table beside him.
But our mother died when we were so young, and he’s been alone for so long, so we’ve all worked hard to move past whatever hang-ups we might have about their relationship.
Of course Archer took the longest to come around, because he’s a meddler, but he’s on board now.
I give Corianne a nod and a smile and take a seat at the far end of the table, wedged in the corner by the sliding glass door that leads out onto the old deck.
Owen sits beside me, his girlfriend, Wyatt, beside him.
Grace and her boyfriend, retired Stanley Cup champion Decker Brooks, sit next to her.
Felix, blessedly single (and vowing to stay that way), takes the seat across from me.
Everyone begins talking at once.
There are lots of requests to pass things and questions about the food, offers to grab drinks and extra napkins and salt.
I scoop a polite amount of casserole onto my plate and fill the rest with salad that apparently—per the shouting across the table—came from Corianne’s garden.
The noise feels like a physical thing, pressing in on me from all sides.
I find myself ducking my head, eyes on my plate, trying to keep it from crushing me, just like when I was a teenager.
I fork a bite of salad into my mouth and realize that one of the very few things I actually missed about Indiana was homegrown tomatoes. I can practically taste that Midwestern sun still warm on the ruby-red skin.
“Grace, this is really great,” Wyatt says around a mouthful of casserole. “Is this turkey?”
“Yeah! It’s an enchilada casserole with ground turkey and zucchini. I got the recipe from this cookbook a publisher sent me. The author is from Wisconsin, and I think we might do an event with her at the store,” she says.
“It’s fantastic, babe.” Decker leans over and plants a kiss on Grace’s jaw that has me staring down at my plate.
“Oh, I made an extra for you to take over to Madeline and Betsy,” Grace says to Archer. “I heard they were sick.”
“Yeah, they’ve both got COVID. I think Betsy picked it up on the plane coming back from visiting her dad in Atlanta,” Archer says, and a shadow crosses his face as he mentions the trip.
Madeline is Archer’s next-door neighbor, the single mom of thirteen-year-old Betsy, and every time Archer talks about them, his eyes go all gooey.
But if you ask him about it, he immediately starts gaslighting everyone in a five-mile radius.
“Let me know if they need a house call. I’d rather mask up and check on them than bring Betsy into the practice and risk her exposing people,” Owen says, ever the town golden boy.
All around me, my family chatters about work and their lives, and I sit in the corner, silently forking food into my mouth.
It’s been more than fifteen years since I lived at home, and it doesn’t escape my notice that the family dynamics haven’t changed.
Archer is still bossing everyone around, Felix is still fucking around, Owen is trying to take care of everyone, and Grace is still the baby.
And I’m still trying to disappear.
“Okay, I called this family dinner, so eyes on me,” Dad says, clapping his hands until everyone falls silent and turns their attention to the head of the table.
“I want to share some news with you all.” He reaches over and takes Corianne’s hand in his.
“Corianne and I have decided to move in together, and we’ve decided that the best plan is for me to move into her place. ”
Grace gasps. Felix drops his fork.
“Are you serious?” Archer asks.
“I know it comes as a shock, but Corianne’s house has a better layout. It’s closer to the hardware store. She’s been cultivating her garden for decades, and she’s got that old garage that I can turn into a workshop.”
“But…this is our house,” Grace whispers. Decker threads his fingers through hers and gives her hand a squeeze.
“Yes, but you kids are all starting your own lives. You’ve got places of your own.
Grace, you and Decker are moving out to the lake.
Felix and Owen have their house. Archer, you’ve got yours.
And Dan…” Dad trails off, because of course I don’t have my own place anymore.
I have Carson’s mom’s old sewing room and a mountain of uncertainty.
I look up from my plate and catch Dad’s eye, trying to let him know with a look that everything’s fine.
We don’t need to acknowledge any of that out loud.
Thankfully, he takes the hint and moves on.
And because his news is so shocking, my siblings don’t take the opportunity to pepper me with questions like they normally would.
“We’re going to put the house on the market in a few weeks, so you’ll all have plenty of time to take whatever you want.
I imagine it’ll take a while to sell in this market, so nothing is going to happen overnight,” Dad says.
“I know this is hard news. For some of you, it may feel like you’re losing part of your mother all over again.
But I need you all to know that I will always love her and that none of the love our family shared with her lives in the walls of this house.
It lives in all of us, and we’ll take it with us wherever we go. ”
For the first time I can remember, everyone at the table is silent, save for a couple of sniffles from Grace.
“Shit, Dad, did you finally get a therapist?” Felix cracks.
“In fact I did,” he says, his voice a low grumble.
“Well, congratulations,” Owen says, smiling in a way that looks only slightly forced.
I can tell he’s doing his best to get on board, to support Dad, and to drag all our siblings along with him, fulfilling his role as the peacekeeper.
Owen raises his glass and casts a look around the table until everyone else does too.
But I notice that beneath the table, he reaches for Wyatt’s hand and gives it a hard squeeze.
Archer’s brow is still furrowed, but he seems to be biting his tongue.
He raises his glass. Grace raises hers even as she tips her head onto Decker’s shoulder.
Felix is the only one who looks mostly unbothered by the news.
After the toast, he immediately offers to help Dad with whatever fixes the house needs to get it ready to go on the market.
That gets Archer’s attention, and before long, the three of them are adding to a list on Felix’s phone.
Before long, the trademark McBride family din returns.
Everyone is leaning in to someone else, chattering, commiserating, planning.
And I’m at the end of the table, wondering where I fit in.
When I was halfway across the country, I could tell myself that was why I felt so separate from everyone.
But now that I’m here, I’m realizing that the physical distance wasn’t the problem.
I love my family, but they fit me like a wool sweater that has shrunk in the wash.
Or maybe I’m the one who fits them badly.
I wish I felt as comfortable with them as they feel with each other.
I wish I could be as unbothered as Felix.
I wish I had Archer’s instinct to look out for everyone, even if it is stifling.
I wish I had the comfort that Owen has with Wyatt and Grace has with Decker.
I wish I understood why I can’t seem to connect with anyone the way they all connect with each other.
And then my mind goes to Carson, my stubbornly hopeful, defiantly happy, delightfully feisty roommate.
And I wish she were here. Then I don’t think I’d feel like I had to stare at my plate. I don’t think I’d have to tune out the noise of the room so forcefully.
I know I fucked everything up with her the other night in ways I’m not even sure I understand. And also before that, when I nearly made a pass at her in her kitchen. That’s the moment everything went wrong, and I want to fix it. I don’t want to avoid Carson. I don’t want her to avoid me.
Because the truth is, despite my best attempts to ignore it, when Archer told me I needed a friend, Carson was the only person I thought of.
My sister is out on the deck sniffling into Decker’s shoulder while Owen and Wyatt start the dishes in the kitchen.
Archer and Felix have graduated to walking around the house photographing things they need to fix, like the dent in the wall outside the room that used to be mine and Archer’s from when Felix kicked it after we wouldn’t let him play Xbox with us in middle school.
While everyone is occupied, I take the opportunity to slip through the living room to the front door. My only thought is getting back to the house so I can talk to Carson. I have no idea what I’m going to say, but I figure I have the drive across town to sort it out.
“Sneaking out?”
My hand is on the doorknob when I hear my dad’s voice behind me, and suddenly I’m seventeen again, sneaking out of family dinner to walk around the neighborhood with my headphones on.
I turn and face Dad, trying not to duck my head like I used to. I’m thirty-one years old, after all. I can look my father in the eye.
“If that’s okay,” I say.
“Of course. I appreciate you coming,” Dad says. “I’m always happy to see you. I know you’re not in town for the best reasons, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t nice to get to see you.”
“Yeah…” I say, wishing that for once in my life I could find the right words to tell my dad what’s going on in my head. “Congrats, by the way. I like Corianne. You guys seem really happy.”
“Thanks, son. I’m grateful to have found another person who puts up with my nonsense.”
I nod. “You’re a lucky man.”
“Don’t I know it.” Dad pulls me in for a hug and sighs into my shoulder. “I love you, Dan. No matter what. You never have to worry about being or doing or saying the right thing on my account. I love you just as you are, you hear me?”
My throat gets tight as I squeeze my dad’s shoulders, still broad and strong but a little more stooped than I remember.
And for the first time since I walked in the door, I exhale, deep and long.
Because in between all the memories from my childhood of escaping or hiding, there are these memories too.
Of my father letting me just be, of him reminding me that he’ll always be there for me, that he loves me no matter what.
It’s a reminder that even when things are hard, I’m still a lucky motherfucker.
“Thanks, Dad.”
I pull back but don’t immediately reach for the door.
“It’s okay, you can go. It seems like you have someplace to be?” Dad says.
“Just a personal thing,” I say.
“I hope you’ve got somebody you can talk to. I get why it’s hard to talk to me, or even your siblings. But having Corianne by my side these last two years has shown me how much I needed someone I could talk to. And the craziest part is that I had no idea how badly I needed it until I had it.”
I don’t know if Dad realizes how far he’s drilled down into me. It’s like he sees right through me.
For the first time in a long time, it’s comforting to be seen.
“Yeah,” I say, the word clawing its way up my throat. But I’m trying.
Dad nods, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Go on, then. I’ll see you later.”