Except Mom always found him and dragged him back, insisting he spend time with his half-siblings, eat more dry turkey, and have at least one more piece of pie.
At some point in the last thirteen years, a whole lot of distance grew between us.She’d always be his mom but he didn’t feel as if he was an important part of her life anymore, which was sad but true.
Aileen was his buffer zone throughout the meal, and as they left the house to go to her place, Eli gave her a hug.
“Thanks for that.”
She smiled. “Hey, you’re about to do me a huge favor. Saving you from death by questions seemed the least I could do.” She cocked her head. “Especially all those questions about your personal life, which I’m guessing you don’t want to tell me about either.”
“You guess right. You don’t need to know how big a screw-up I am when it comes to love.”
Aileen kissed his cheek. “You just haven’t met the right man yet, that’s all. Let’s see what Christmas brings. It’s the time for magic and miracles, isn’t it?”
Eli snorted. “I grew out of believing in Christmas magic years ago.” He peered at her. “And speaking of love, is there anyone special inyourlife that I should know about?”
She snorted. “Like I’d tell you.”
“Hey, turnabout is fair play. You get to askmeembarrassing questions about my love life, remember? Or have you forgotten?”
She shivered. “As if Icouldforget.”
She’d texted him when he was in his early twenties to ask how a date had gone. He’d been noncommittal, but when she pressed him relentlessly for details, Eli had decided to fire with all guns. He’d replied that he and his date had fucked for two hours.
It had taken her a month to text him again.
Back at Aileen’s, he showered off the sugar and borrowed a pair of flannel pants that made him look like a lumberjack with a graphic design minor. The guest room was small but tidy, quilted and unpretentious. On the dresser sat a ceramic reindeer with a broken antler he vaguely remembered gluing in eighthgrade, when he’d believed anything could be fixed with craft supplies and patience.
He lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. The apartment in Boston had a bump where a skylight used to be; this ceiling had a faint crack shaped like a river. He followed it with his eyes and let his brain do the churn.
Clients had been cordial while they replaced him with software.We loved the concepts, but we’ve pivoted.A brand manager had actually said, “We tried an AI logo and it’s pretty close.” When Eli had asked, “Close to what?” the manager had replied, “Close to free.”
Eli had stared at his coffee and pretended his stomach wasn’t folding in on itself.
The bed creaked when he rolled over. He thought about his ex, about the way the toothbrush had left a polite vacancy in the holder, about the couch indent that never sprang back.I love you, El, but I need morehad translated toWhat I don’t need is you,and that was a sentence he kept trying to rewrite in his head. He wasn’t ambitious enough. He wasn’t enough of a risk. He was solid and steady and boring and kind, and maybe that last word was the quietest curse of all.
The wind pushed at the window. Somewhere, a neighbor’s porch light clicked on, an ordinary star in the dark.
His phone buzzed, and he glanced at Aileen’s message.
Yeah, okay, I know we’re in the same house, but I’m too warm to get out of bed and come to your room, so bite me. Tomorrow can you swing by Home Depot first thing? Need extra strings of warm white lights. Not blue. Don’t you dare. Also extension cords, command hooks, and those big outdoor timers. Also, if they have the heavy-duty storage totes, grab two. [heart emoji]
He stared at the text. He pictured aisles of lumber and PVC pipe and inflatable grinning snowmen twelve feet tall. Hepictured himself at 10 a.m., coffee in hand, wandering under a ceiling of fluorescents, pretending he wasn’t a little relieved to have a list and a purpose.
Sure,he typed.One question though. What are command hooks?
Aileen: they’re those hooks with adhesive on the back that you can use of any surface without damaging it.
He sighed and typed,Fine.Consider me your festive mule with a corporate charge card.
Three dots.It’s my debit card and if you lose it I’m changing my name and moving to Florida with Laurie.
Three dots.And you don’t have to visit Mom again. You’ve done the duty visit. She might want to see you at Christmas, but that’s more than three weeks away. Besides, I could have worked you to death by then, thus sparing you the agony of Trevor asking you again if you do logos. Night, dummy.
He smiled into the pillow, his breathing slow.
Failing feels farther away here.As though if he reached out, he could touch something solid.
“Just for the season,” he said to the empty room that didn’t argue.
