“I win!” I cry out in triumph, startling the three Mario Kart players. I hear the groans of the three boys around me as they realise, they got their butts handed to them by a first-timer.
“Beginner’s luck, I swear it,” Tristan mutters and Caleb laughs.
“I can’t believe it,” Xander sighs a few times, staring at his now useless hand. I grin widely at the three of them and then he puts the cards down and starts shuffling.
“Best two out of three!” Caleb says as he hands his brother his cards, and Tristan nods his agreement as he also hands his cards back. And Xander deals each of us thirteen cards before the game starts again.
“Who has the club?” Tristan asks as we all sort our hands.
“Me, sorry,” I tell him, and then I place the two of clubs down so that everyone else can place their cards down too.
“I can’t believe you like playing cards,” Rowan blanches at the four of us, and I chuckle.
“It’s fun beating people at card games.”
“We could play old maid and you could lose again,” Caleb jokes at Rowan and I grin.
“I’d love to play old maid with everyone.”
“There are so many card games we could play. Yahtzee, Rummy, Blackjack, Bugger your Neighbour. There are so many options.”
“Go fish!” Rowan cries out and we all can’t help but laugh.
“Yeah, go fish too.”
The boys and Rowan keep jabbing at each other throughout our game, and finally, it is Xander who is victorious this time around.
“I can’t believe I took your trick.” I sigh as I put my card back on the table.
“Believe it,” he gloats, and I stick my tongue out at him childishly. This makes everyone, including the younger boys, laugh at me.
“What now?” Tristan asks and then we all hear someone calling us all for dinner.
When we all trek upstairs, I notice that the Bentley and the Meier couples are already seated, just waiting for the kids to come upstairs for the meal. I blush, wondering how many times we might have been called before we actually heard them, and Rowan grabs me, carting me towards a seat between her and Xander.
“Eleanora, how has your break been?” Margaret asks me after they’ve said their dinner graces.
“Oh, mostly uneventful. I’ve just done my homework mostly.” I respond before taking a small bite of the fancy salad in front of me. It’s tasty.
“Have you finished your homework?” Rowan gasps at me and I can’t help but laugh.
“Yeah, I have everything I needed to get done, done. Including my take-home finals,” I brag a little and I see Rowan go pale as her mother looks at her.
“See, sometimes you can be responsible and do your homework early,” Margaret tells her daughter, and a smug smile comes onto Xander’s face.
“I’ve finished mine too.”
“Congrats know-it-all.” Rowan pouts, not even giving her mother face with a response to her goading.
“How was your Christmas then dear?” She turns back to me then, ignoring her daughter who is now ignoring her, and I try to keep myself from frowning.
“It was fine, my father came home for a couple of days to spend Christmas with me,” I tell her, though I don’t really need to divulge that he barely spent twenty-four hours in the house and for a grand majority of them we were either sleeping or not really speaking.
“Oh, that’s nice.” I see the Bentley couple looking at each other as Margaret speaks to me, and I know what they’re thinking about. My family drama can never just leave me out of it, can it? Follows me around everywhere.
I decide the best course of action, though, is to ignore that they’re looking at each other and silently conversing about me in front of my face.
“Your father let you come for New Year then?”
I almost spit out the drink that I had just taken a sip from. And I try to cough subtly for a moment before looking at Margaret after her question. No, I never even mentioned it to my father. He wouldn’t care anyway. How am I supposed to justify my silence to this seemingly responsible mother figure? I don’t want to have to tell her that he wouldn’t give a shit where I went or what I did when he wasn’t around, as long as my grades stayed high and my attendance stayed near perfect.
“He’s already gone again, so…” I trail off and I can see the pity flooding into her eyes, along with some motherly concern that I haven’t seen in my own mother for several years now, so then I just look back down at my food. I don’t need her pity. I’m here now, so it’s not like I’m spending the rest of the holidays home alone anymore. Besides, then Rowan will stop pestering me about staying over for part of the holidays. Not if I am in fact staying over at their house for a few days over the holidays.
Talk about compromise.
Thankfully Margaret stops questioning me and starts up a conversation with her sister and brother-in-law. I ignore the conversations going on around me and try to enjoy the extra fancy meal, something you’d see in higher star restaurants and the like instead of usually on a normal dinner table. But it’s tasty and I am not going to complain about being fed good food for free, no matter how you look at it. I smile lightly as I have a bite of the stuffed chicken breast, it is divine, and I wonder whether or not I would be given the recipe if I asked the chef. I also wonder if I would even be able to make it myself at home.
I doubt it highly, but that’s okay. I can always try it out at least once anyways.
After I finish my meal, I look up and notice that everyone else’s plates are not yet completed and that the conversations are really heated. I look at Rowan beside me, who is waving her arms around wildly as she explains something to Tristan across from her.
“Sorry, it’s so noisy,” Xander whispers to me on my other side and I slide my glance his way, noticing that his plate is as empty as my own.
“No, it’s fine. Just… not what I’m used to.” I whisper back to him, trying for a reassuring smile before looking back at all the different conversations happening. Larger family gatherings must be fun. I wouldn’t know much about that personally, I haven’t been to any sort of family gathering in many years, and none that are large and energetic like this normal meal.
“You spend a lot of time alone, no?” He asks me quietly, dragging my attention back towards him and away from the others. I nod my head before opening my mouth.
“Yeah, my uh… father. He works a lot and has a place closer to the hospital. So, he spends a lot of time there, away from home.” I pause a little on the last word of my explanation, not sure if he really calls the house that I am living in, home. I would guess not considering he never comes back.
It’s where his children were grown, where his wife resides, but not where he calls home. That sounds about right.
“And your mother?”
I choke a little at his question and wonder if he doesn’t know. There’s no way he doesn’t. The Meier’s have been here long enough and have enough local contact and family that they have at least heard the basics of my maternal situation.
“No good? I shouldn’t have asked?” He questions and I just shake my head.
“Just, not used to people actually asking me questions about her and not just going off of the rumors that are circulating.”
“I see… so?”
“Well, she’s not really around either.” I can’t help at chuckle at my vague answer. I just told him I was okay with being questioned about it and then I go about answering his question like this.
“She hasn’t really been ‘around’ for a long time. She checked out before my brother went off to school and it just got worse until… well. You have probably heard about how she is kind of missing right now.” I shrug my shoulders. “It’s not exactly a weird or rare occurrence for her to just disappear for a while. I have no idea where she goes or what she does, but I can assume it’s nothing good.”
“So, you’re just alone in your house all the time?” He asks and I nod again.
“Yup, just me, myself, and I. We keep great company together,” I try to joke a little, trying to lighten the mood. I don’t mean to bring it down but talking about my family usually does that.
“Isn’t it lonely?”
“I’m used to it, don’t worry.” I wave it off, not needing the pity. I don’t want it either.
“Used to it and not being lonely are two very different things,” He points out and I chuckle absentmindedly at his point.
Very true, but I don’t tend to think about it too much. Or I try not to. It’s not conducive to a sound mind and sound body for me to dwell on the things that I can’t fix or change no matter how hard I try. So, there’s no point to it.
“What about you?” I turn it back around at him, glancing around at all the animated conversations happening at the table, while the two of us whisper amongst ourselves. “You don’t seem to be participating in all the festivities of this family gathering.”
He just shrugs, looking at his twin brother, who is being mocked by their younger brother and Albert for something he did a while ago.
“I’m the one they walk on eggshells around…” He trails off as he notices that the help is sweeping through gathering the plates and cutlery and delivering dessert.
Dessert is a several layered cake, of assorted, unusual cake colours. I poke at the frosting and try a little, and it just melts in my mouth giving off ample amounts of sugary sweetness.
I take a bite out of the cake and realise that it’s probably the best cake I have ever had.
“You have a sweet tooth, huh?” Xander comments and I swallow before sticking my tongue out at him, not gracing his mocking tone with an actual response.
“That’s fine, childish, but fine.” He shrugs his shoulders, the teasing in his tone obvious, and then turns back to his own cake. So, I finish mine in silence. Once the two of us are done, he pokes my arm and signals for me to come with him.
We stand near in sync and quietly leave the room. Nobody seems to notice the movement or the fact that two people have left the table and room. Nor were these two people in any of the conversations.
Xander leads me back down to the basement and takes a seat on the sofa.
I stand there for a moment, wondering if he wants me to come and sit with him, and then I decide I might as well. I am curious about what he didn’t get to finish telling me earlier anyways.
I sit down beside him and wonder if he’s going to continue on his own or if I am going to need to prompt the conversation.
When he remains silent for a few moments, I decide prompting might be in order.
“What’d you mean by when you said, ‘you’re the one they walk on eggshells around’ earlier?” I finally get the courage up to ask and he just smiles sadly at me.
“Well, I am. And it’s only because they can’t fix me.” I pause at his statement, not sure what he’s saying. And he smiles at me before opening his mouth to explain.