It's seven pm by the time we all sit down to dinner together.
“Daddy, where are we going on holidays after Christmas?” Gabe asks quite innocently.
“What makes you think we are going on a holiday, Gabe?” I look up from my plate where I’m cutting my steak, only to see Mia with a smirk on her face.
“I heard Poppy and Auntie Paige talking on the phone. She was complaining she didn’t know where she was going, and then about all the kids coming on the trip. Then Poppy just laughed at her.” He is still totally oblivious to what he is saying.
Damn it, I didn’t want to tell the kids this early because now I will have to put up with twenty questions a day from them. Plus, they don’t understand that they can’t know anything.
“Wait, are we going on your New Year’s Eve trip?” Jack sits up, paying attention now. “Where are we going?” He pulls his phone out of his pocket, about to text his friends to brag he is headed off on an adults’ trip.
“Put that phone on the table right now. You know the rules about phones at the dinner table.” I never imagined I would be able to yell at him when he was four and curled up on my lap telling me stories. But there is a lot of difference between four and fourteen. I have developed quite the authoritative father voice in the last ten years.
It's like a battle of wills, his fingers hovering over the phone, desperate to type the message but not game to defy me.
“Jack.” Mia speaks his name calmly, and he lowers it back onto the table face down, a little huff leaving his mouth.
“Well, it’s a surprise, but yes, after Christmas you are all coming on our New Year’s trip this year. I can’t tell you where we are going because no one else knows yet either.” All the younger kids are bouncing in their seats, and Jack is smiling, because that’s as cool as it gets at his age. “We will be away for ten days.” And that’s the moment Jack’s face changes.
“Ten days, that’s way too long,” he grumbles.
“Pardon. Why is that?” I challenge him.
“I’ve got plans.” I can see Jack’s hand itching to pick up his phone and rant to his friends.
“Yes, you do, with your family and extended framily. I’m sure your friends will still be here when we get back.” I’m trying so hard not to lose my temper with him. We have a great relationship, but we also still have the normal father-teenager push and pull every day over things.
“How do you know that?” His eyes are boring into me, like he wants to push the point. He is as tall as me, just not filled out quite yet, but it’s coming, I’m sure.
“Because I too was your age once, and my friends are still hanging around now. That will happen for you too.” I glance at Mia, who I know is on the same page as me.
“Whatever,” Jack mumbles and then just continues with eating his dinner. He doesn’t make eye contact with either me or his mother for the rest of the meal.
Gabe, Remi, and Kayla continue to chatter on and tell us about their day and what they got up to with their grandparents. And if I’ve learned one thing with broody teenage boys, it’s that you are better off leaving them alone to get over whatever it is that’s pissing them off.
Finally, all the kids are showered and in their rooms for the night. I pour myself a scotch and sit in front of the Christmas tree, watching the snow fall outside the window, when Mia comes into the room and crawls into my lap. She takes the scotch out of my hand and has a sip.
“Well, that was an interesting dinner,” she comments and passes the glass back to me. “Obviously we have reached the stage where holidaying with your parents is no longer cool.”
I chuckle at her. “Maybe, but I have a feeling it’s something else. Why don’t you head up to bed and I’ll be there shortly. I just want to chat with Jack on my way up.” I take one last sip of the scotch and pass the glass to Mia for her to finish. She’s not a bigdrinker but some nights she just likes that little night cap with me.
“Do you want me to speak to him?” she asks as she stands.
“No, I think this is a guy chat.” I wink at her, and it dawns on her what I’m thinking, but then I see the panic in her eyes that she is starting to lose her little boy as he keeps growing up.
“I think I need another scotch.” She groans as I take her in my arms, kiss the top of her head, and send her on her way toward the staircase with a little tap on the ass. I check the house is locked up for the night and then head up to Jack’s room.
Knocking on his door and opening it slightly, I poke my head through to see him lying on his bed with his music journal where he scribbles lyrics.
“Hey, JJ, can I come in?” I ask and wait for his response. My use of his nickname has him softening, knowing I’m not mad at him.
“Sure,” he replies as he continues to write something down and then sits up, leaning against the headboard, and drops his journal on the bed beside him.
Sitting at the end of his bed, I try to make sure I have the words right before I say them.
“You seemed a little upset at dinner about the trip.” I place my hand on his ankle and give it a squeeze just to show this is a calm discussion.
“Sorry.” And he genuinely looks it.
