Chapter 11 - Winter of 2017

In spite of the icy weather, Marco’s parents assured him that they would visit during the holidays. With a late morning cup of coffee nested between her palms, his mother said, “The church service was lovely. You do go to church often, don’t you?”

”No really.”

”I do though.” Lexi chimed in, “It’s my church.”

”Oh, that’s just great. You’ve been Christian your whole life then?”

”Yeah. I went to catholic middle and high school.”

”Private?”

”Correct.”

“I see. Very fancy. ”

Marco’s father had been sitting quietly on the couch, admiring his son’s poorly decorated, over saturatedly green Christmas tree. It had been strung with some rainbow lights, and a couple of silver bulbs were scattered throughout her prickly branches. It was nothing spectacular. 

“I like the decoration you’ve done,” the elderly man said. “Very unlike you. I’m glad to see that you’re expanding your horizons.”

”Yeah Marco,” Lexi added. ”Good work making your space a little less miserable to the eye.”

”I mean, truly. It looked like a hospital room before.”

The young woman cackled. “That’s a good description.”

”Come on now,” Marco’s mother, Sandra, said. “He can’t help it. It’s not his fault he has the style of a Hobby Lobby the evening of Black Friday.”

”Why are y’all teaming up on me?”

”You’re just too easy a target,” Lexi said as she patted her partner on the shoulder. 

“My goodness girl, you’re so tall,” Sandra remarked. “I didn’t notice until you stood up. Do you know your exact height?”

”Momm, that’s weird to say.”

”Oh, I don’t mind. I’m about five-foot-eleven. You couldn’t tell before?”

“I just assumed it was your shoes. You must’ve played basketball at some point, right?”

”No, tennis was more my thing. Actually…” Lexi checked her watch. “That reminds me that I need to go. I meet up with my friend to practice on Sundays, and I don’t want to be too late.”

”You really have to leave? It’s a bummer you can’t stay longer. Well it’s great having met you.”

”Of course. You too. Enjoy the rest of your time in Wisconsin!” 

Lexi gave a few hugs, and was out the door in just a moment. Once she was gone, Sandra turned all of her attention to her son.

”So you’re telling me that you got with her? I don’t wanna sound too surprised, but I mean, look at her. She’s gorgeous.”

”Yah.”

”You’ve been dating for how long now?”

”About a month, but we were friends before then.”

”Wow.” His mother nodded. “Tell me, have you thought about the future much?”

”What do you mean?”

”You know what I mean.”

”I’m just letting things happen. I’ve no intention to rush.”

”I’m just saying, most folks your age-”

”Mom. I already know.”

Sandra blew over her hot drink.  “Sorry, it was a joke. I forgot you don’t allow jokes ‘round here. I just think you’re good for each other."

“Thanks.”

”If something happens,”

”You’ll be the first to know,” Marco interrupted, which earned him a nod of satisfaction from his mother. 

“I’d better hope so.”

Lexi shuffled across the court. Her racket hurled the ball in the inverse direction. ”I met his parents this morning,” she huffed. 

“Did you really?” Whitney asked. She sent the ball back to her friend. 

“Met up with ‘em at mass, hung out at Marco’s place afterwards. It was good.”

”How long did it take for them to ask about your height?”

”Took ‘em a good while, actually.”

”How unexpected.” Whitney was of shorter stature, which by no means insinuated a lower skill set. She and Lexi had been friends since college, and had been playing tennis together on Sundays almost every week since. 

“I made a good impression, as far as I’m aware.”

”Splendid.” Whitney whacked the ball further across the court than Lexi could catch.

”His mom kept mentioning his ex wife though. That was strange,” she said as she went to retrieve the ball. 

“Does he ever talk about his ex wife?”

”Not really. I think her name is Roxane, and I know that they have a child who’s cared for by her. Other than that, she’s a mystery.”

”Huh. How do you feel about that?”

”I don’t really care. Family is complicated, and if he doesn’t wanna talk about it, I don’t need to know.” 

“Fair enough.” Whitney took a breather, hands on knees, and got a swig of water. “He seems like a lucky find.”

”It’s almost making me nervous how well things are going.”

”You think something’s about to go badly?”

”I dunno what I think.” Lexi seated herself on the shiny wooden floor. “So what’s new with you?”

”Nothing has happened since last Sunday, and nothing happened the week before that.”

”Livin’ the dream?”

”Being a barista. You know how it is.”

”Yeahh. Are you still planning a vacation to Miami?”

”That won’t happen ‘til next August.”

“Something to look forward to then.”

Whitney shrugged. “It sounds nice when you put it that way.”

”Have you looked at concert tickets recently?”

”No, is anybody good coming to Madison?”

”I haven’t checked. I should though. We haven’t done anything exciting in ages.”

”It’s a shame that nothing exciting happens within a thirty-mile radius of here.”

”Thirty miles might still be a close reach.”

”Exactly.” Whitney got back into an athletic stance. “Are you ready to go again?”

Lexi matched her posture. ”Of course.”

The YMCA was cold and quiet. During the winter, the only folks who used it were old people. Even in the summer months, the amount of kids attending camps were slim, and getting slimmer. The town as a whole was much that way. In the summer, historical site goers visited bronze memorials of racist white people, and the winter months were almost completely dead. 

“Are you gonna ski at all this year?” Whitney asked.

“Maybe. Would you want to? Skiing is fun.”

”Yeah, and day passes are only like, twenty bucks at Penthouse Mountain.”

”That place frightens me. Too many unsupervised hockey boys on terrain parks.”

”Sure, but we could stay away from them. The north side of the hill is usually quiet, isn’t it?”

”Yeah, I guess. We should totally go.”

Whitney swung her racket at the ball, which unfortunately sent it sailing astray. It bobbled away again. 

“I think I keep hitting it with too much of an angle.” She said as she chased it.

Lexi took this opportunity to tie her shoe. “Is the skiing thing something that we’ll actually do, or is it just an optimistic dream?”

”I want to say that we’ll actually do it, but considering our history of nothing ever working out, it probably won’t.”

”Hey now, let a girl dream”

Whitney nodded. “Did you hear about Josh and Monica tying the knot?”

”Mhmm. I got an invitation to the wedding a couple weeks ago.”

”I’m really happy for him. And Monica, of course.”

Lexi sighed. ”Dude, everybody’s getting married.”

”Tell me about it.”

”I don’t understand how someone could commit to that much commitment.”

”You don’t have to get married if you don’t want to.”

”But that’s the thing that you do, you know? It’s a milestone. But what if I pick the wrong person? Even if I do find my “soulmate” or whatever, weddings take so much time and money. I dunno if I could do that much for somebody. Even someone who I really loved.”

“Do you stress a lot about it?”

”I guess? My family all wants me to settle down with some guy and have some kids.”

The two friends were now seated on the smooth, polished floor.

”You don’t have to do what they want.”

”And I know that, but part of me still wants to make them happy.”

”Maybe your family just wants you to be happy, and having a traditional marriage is the only way that they were ever taught.”

“Why does breaking generational cycles have to be my job? How is that fair?”

”I suppose it isn’t. But you have the power to change things, and the fact that you even recognize the flaws is a step in the right direction.”

Lexi thought for a moment. “How’d you get so smart?”

Whitney shrugged. “Just gotta surround yourself with the right people.”

“I suppose that’s true. Thank you.”

”Anytime.”

Marco picked at the skin peeling from his hand. He had scraped it about a week ago when he slipped and fell on his icy front steps. 

“Stop doing that” his mother snarled. “You’ll get an infection.”

“But, it just�"it doesn’t hurt, and it-”

”You’re going to make it take longer to heal.”

Marco held his arms to his sides stiffly. “Sorry.”

His father, Rick, shuffled into the room. 

Sandra said, ”Since it’s our last day here, we should celebrate a little. Are there any good bars in town?”

”Um, there are definitely bars. Good ones? Not so much.”

”Is that so?”

”Mhm. The grocery store sells bottles of wine and stuff though.”

”Do you like wine?” His mother asked. “No child of mine better dislike wine. I didn’t mean to rhyme there.”

”The drink’s alright.” Marco shrugged. “I don’t really see the appeal. It tastes kinda weird.”

”It’s classy. It’s stylish. You can’t ever go wrong with a good wine.”

”You can with a bad one though,” said Rick. 

Sandra pinched her brow. “I’m going to the store then, before it closes. You two better not light anything on fire, got it?”

”Do you know where you’re going?” 

“It’s not that hard to figure out.”

”Ok, mom. Bye, mom.”

If there was one thing that Rick excelled at, it was sitting quietly and waiting. He didn’t say much (Sandra probably talked enough for the both of them anyway), but he spoke up when necessary, or sometimes if a dad joke was to be made. Marco looked up to him immensely. 

“I know I sounded sarcastic earlier, but I really do love your Christmas tree,” he said monotonously. People often mistook his way of speaking for a lack of enthusiasm. His son knew that he never meant any harm.

”Thanks dad. I could’ve done a little more though.”

”There’s still time before Christmas. Who said you have to take it down after the holidays anyway?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Marco said. “So. How are you?”

”I’m here, and that makes me well.”

”Does it though? I mean, are you nervous about the surgery?”

”Hardly. When you get to be my age, you’ll become really used to hospitals. You’ll understand.”

Shivers were sent down Marco’s spine. “I hope not.”

”You’re right. I hope you never have to get used to hospitals.”

”I don’t understand how you aren't angry. You’ve never done anything to deserve the pain you’ve experienced.”

”Oh, it isn’t so bad.”

”You’re just saying that. I’ve seen you.”

”Why would I be angry though?”

”Because being ill sucks!”

”Maybe so, but it’s not anybody’s fault.”

”I’m not saying it is.” 

Rick shifted in his seat and folded his hands above his belly. “Anger is a dangerous thing to feel. I’m not saying it’s useless, for no emotion is. It can show you what you truly care about and feel passionate for. But letting it linger, allowing it to fester in your heart, that’s a dangerous play to make. Anger is like ink. Its effects will seep into your life and push away what you love. So don’t be angry.”

”I don’t get it. How can I just allow bad things to happen?”

”Bad things will happen either way. Being ok with that is where you find peace.”

“I dunno if I can do that.”

”Okay.”

Marco furrowed his brow. ”You’re just alright with that?”

”You’re an adult, you can make your own descisions. I’ll love you anyway.”

”Thanks dad.”

”You’re not gonna say it back?”

”I love you dad.”

The ghosts were all seated in various spots around the room. 

“Wow. That guy is smart,” said Clive

”It’s definitely an opinion,” Hudson commented with a smug and self-centered air. 

”Gol-lee, Huddie buddy. Can you look from someone else’s perspective? For once in your death?”

He grimaced. ”Never call me that ever again.”

Sandra popped a bottle of white wine. 

“Do you want some, dear?” She asked her husband.

”No, the doctor said I shouldn't drink.”

”Oh, come on. Not even a sip?”

”I’ll have some, mom.”

”Yeah, we know,” Sandra said sarcastically.

”Pfft. What’s that supposed to mean?”

Marco’s mother poured herself a half glass, and her son a full glass. “I know you’ll only get more later.”

”I’m not like that anymore. I’ve gotten a lot better.”

Sandra took a judgmental sip. ”I’m not saying I don't believe you, I just don’t believe you.”

”Like mother like son,” mumbled Marco.

”Pardon?”

”Nothing.”

The radio spun familiar tunes of old. Out the living room window, twinkling lights from the neighbor’s house shone through, and illuminated the space with bright, shifting colors. Snow sparkled under the only street light that worked. 

“It’s a shame that you live so close to a cemetery. It must be so discouraging to see that view out your front door every day.”

”I truly don’t mind it. If anything, it makes rent cheap.”

”I understand why it would.”

Rick piped up. ”Honey, when are we going back to the hotel?”

Sandra guided her attention in his direction. “Soon, probably. I mean, it is almost ten-thirty. You’re getting tired?”

”Yeah.” 

Marco stretched. “Ah, rats. Well, thank you for visiting. It’s been great to see y’all.”

”It’s my pleasure. Tell Lexi I say hi.”

”Will do. D’ya want help getting down to the car? The steps can be slick. Trust me, I would know,” Marco said as he rubbed his scabby hand.

”No, we’ll be fine. Right, Rick?”

”Uh, yeah.”  

They hugged goodbye and were soon on their way. Marco slumped back on the couch. Dealing with people was exhausting. 

Reviews

[RomaJ]

I didn’t really connect with the marriage conversation -- his parents rushing him to think about remarriage after only a month with Lexi felt unrealistic to me -- but the scene that really stood out was the father and son talk -- it’s profound, heartfelt, and gives deep insights on life -- that moment carried a lot of emotional weight and felt very grounded.