As I tell my students, anything is worth a try in the face of adversity.
20THE DECISIONPATRICK
“This was exquisite. Wehaveto do it here again next year,” Mom says as she hugs me goodbye. The wool of her coat scratches at my palms.
I catch Quinn’s bewildered expression over my mother’s right shoulder.
He was up in our room for a while on that call. I wonder what he and his mom were talking about. I hope it wasn’t anything like the conversation I overheard him having with Veronica. After last night that would crush me even more.
“We’ll see,” I say before kissing Mom on the cheek. Even with the help of the elves, this evening was exhausting. Granted, last night I expended more energy than ever before.
My aunt, uncle, cousin, and his family all left when the kids started to crash. Now it’s just my immediate family and Nan saying their goodbyes.
Dad sets a hand on my shoulder. “Call me if you want to talk out this job opportunity without being so cryptic. We gave you a good head on these shoulders. Use it.”
The star of the Hargrave brood hugs me next, making me feel like an overwound clock about to shoot off its springs. “Merry Christmas. Good to see you. Be well.” All my life, Bradley has outshined me. But it’s not until he hugs me that I realize he’s even got a couple inches on me, height-wise, giving a whole new meaning to overshadowed.
If only he’d seen me last night. If only they’d all seen me last night.
Nan hip-checks Bradley out of the way. “My turn.”
“We’re going to go warm up the car,” Dad says. He, Mom, and Bradley step out into the cold night. “We’ll pull the car up, okay, Mom?”
“Sure.” Nan waves her hand at them as they go. “Thank you for a lovely Christmas, Patrick and Quinn. I probably don’t have many more left in me, so it means a lot. Even if I had to wear this stupid necklace.” At some point during dessert, the batteries must have died. It’s lightless around her neck now, which makes it look more ridiculous. “If this ninety-year-old can gift you one thing on this special holiday, it’s to remind you that life only gives you so many chances for adventure. If this new job and moving to a new place are going to bring joy and adventure, then don’t listen to your parents. Do it!”
She hugs me as tight as her short, frail arms can manage, then sees herself out.
Quinn shuts and locks the door, presses his back into the wood, and sighs. “That was a lot.”
The past twenty-four hours have been a lot. That much we can both wordlessly agree on.
We make our way back into the dining room to inspect the mess left behind. Quinn insisted my parents not pitch in to clean up. Probably out of pride. But now we’re staring down vacuuming, laundry, and multiple runs of our barely-working dishwasher.
“Do you think the elves will come and take care of this? Because if not, I don’t have the energy right now,” Quinn says. He waves a hand at the wreckage of a holiday well spent.
“Me neither,” I say. “Hot chocolate?”
“Yes, please.”
When the last of the Swiss Miss has been used up, we settle on the couch in the living room. For a while, we stare silently into our mugs. Wisps of steam swirl up around the globs of whipped creamand tickle my nose. My mind races with a million and one ways to begin this conversation.
The ticks of the second hand on the wall clock over Quinn’s head grow louder. I haven’t been this nervous to talk to Quinn about something since I was about to propose.
Our relationship hangs in the balance of our next choice.
I see how hard teaching has weighed on Quinn these past months. I want to be able to turn to him and say, “If it’s not bringing you joy anymore, let it go.”
But we don’t have the savings to do that.
And I don’t have the guts.
Because if I plant the idea, and our relationship is no longer bringing him joy, who’s to say he won’t use the same sentiment to let me go, too?
I can turn this around. I can be the man Quinn and my family need me to be.
I must be wearing a look of consternation while I’m thinking hard because Quinn covers his mouth with his hand. “I have a whipped cream mustache, don’t I?”
“No.” I shake my head.
