Looking around, I noticed three embarrassed and almost hurt looking faces. Maybe I should get myself one of those automatic coffee makers with these little capsules. I could keep it in my room, so they could enjoy their mornings in peace.
As I stepped into my shoes after getting dressed, Claire suddenly showed up next to me in the hallway.
“I know we weren’t the best family for you, Honey. But please ... I’d really like to help you! I am here for you!” she pleaded.
“Uh huh. I had cracked ribs before and was perfectly fine taking care of myself.” I replied, ignoring her obvious wince upon hearing my words. “So, thanks, but I’m really good.”
“Be safe. I love you!” she quickly added as I stepped out of the door, but the only answer she got was the sound of the door closing behind me.
As planned, I first dropped off the doctor’s note at school. Then I got to our GP who immediately let me in after seeing my face to make sure the incisions were still good, and gave me prescriptions for more of the opiates to sleep. He also gave me a new sick note for the next four whopping weeks!
Since he had my medical history, he didn’t want to risk anything, and this was apparently how long it would take until it was “safe to ‘bump’ into people in the hallways” as he phrased it while making air quotes with a meaningful look.
This was fucking awesome! The sick note spanning four weeks would mean that the first day I could go back to school would be the first day of the two-week long Christmas break. This meant that I wouldn’t have to go back into that shithole for the next six fucking weeks! I made a mental note of calling the school as soon as Thanksgiving break was over, to check if they had some kind of online study program. The pharmacy was right next door to our GP and, within fifteen minutes, the ibuprofen had taken the edge off the pain, so I could spend the day working somewhat effectively.
After a few hours, however, I noticed that I wasn’t just sitting around like I had claimed in the parents’ kitchen. My chest started hurting whenever I let my left hand rest on the keyboard for more than two minutes, which turned typing into a quite tedious task. I was just groaning again when Bill came through the door, looking somewhat pensive.
“Hey, Kid. You know you don’t have to be here, right? Why don’t you at least stay home until you can use both your eyes again?”
“Nah, I can manage. But thank you for the offer.”
“Oh, thanks for dropping the adapter at my office yesterday.”
“No problem, Boss! Did it work? If not, I could take another look.”
“Worked perfectly fine.” he waved me off. “Got the first three videos digitized already. I came because of something else, though.” he said, but didn’t elaborate further. I had never seen him so hesitant before.
“Did I screw up something?” His behavior started to unsettle me...
“No. But maybe I did. I just got a call from John. Did you ever tell your folks about ... what happened with ... Tess?” he asked disturbingly cautiously. Bill knew how badly I had taken her death. He was the only one I had talked with before I came back from my vacation. And I’m pretty sure my behavior at Tess’ funeral wasn’t lost on him either.
“No, I didn’t. Wasn’t really eager to discuss it with them. Especially John’s wife. She has that tendency to meddle in things, trying to help, but making everything worse.” I answered, while shifting my attention back to my monitor.
“Well, they somehow heard. And, since they knew about the two of you being together in the office, they called me to confirm it. Sorry, Kid.” he explained.
“Not much you could do there, Boss. Thank you for warning me.” I said, with sincere gratitude in my voice, and he left after giving me a short nod.
How did they suddenly hear about Tess? They didn’t have any mutual friends or even acquaintances ... except for me, that is. Why did they even care now? They saw me when I was obviously grieving, but couldn’t be bothered to ask about my mood then. I didn’t understand these people, but I was sure there was a surprise waiting for me back home. I spent the remainder of the workday trying not to think about it and, on my way home, actually picked up a coffee maker with a full assortment of different capsules, and a few cups fitting the model.
When I entered the house with my new coffee maker under my right arm, Claire, Aunt Danielle, and the grandparents were in the living room. When they saw me enter, they all regarded me with the very same sad look Claire had given me in the morning. I turned to get up the stairs, but Aunt Danielle sensed my reluctance, sprang up from the sofa, and stood in front of me.
“Tim...” she started but didn’t come very far.
“Nope.” I just said, as I walked around her.
“But, Tim...” Claire called after me this time, in a pleading voice.
“No.” was, again, all I said as I walked up the stairs to get into my room, although a tad more insistent than the previous time.
“Pumpkin! Please! Talk to us!” Granny called after me.
“If I didn’t talk with any of you about Tess when she had just died, I sure as hell won’t do it now.” I called down the stairs before entering my old bedroom and closing the door.
The next few days came and went quietly. Don’t get me wrong, I was tempted to take their offer to talk. I was angry they ignored my obvious troubles before I moved out, and they were now trying to do the right thing. I just simply couldn’t talk about Tess yet, and seriously didn’t expect those people to provide me with any useful advice about anything. On top of that, my opinion of Danielle hadn’t changed in the slightest, so I avoided further confrontations until it was Thanksgiving dinner at Uncle John’s again. This was when things got interesting.
I had absolutely no motivation to attend, but the family managed to coerce me into it. They achieved that by showcasing a noteworthy deviation from their usual tactics. There were no demands, no ultimatums, and nobody tried to simply drag me along as a last resort. Instead, the grandparents showed up in my room after my refusal of Claire’s plea for my participation had left her close to tears again, and told me that it would be important for me to be there. They hinted that it may have something to do with the things I pointed out when the grandparents visited my apartment.
Of course, my lacking eagerness to attend this get-together was noticeable when it came to interacting with me. At least Uncle John’s sense for tradition, that suddenly manifested at last year’s Thanksgiving dinner, thankfully didn’t resurface. I had already pictured myself sitting at that table, telling everyone how thankful I was for the invention of Coffee Makers.
They still made a seemingly honest effort to try and include me in the conversations they had, asking for my opinions on every single topic that came up. Problem was, I simply didn’t have any opinions on those topics. I went to school as a loner, so I was out of the loop of current events that the teenagers would find interesting. And ever since Tess died, I fully focused on whatever project I was involved in at work, leaving me just as uninformed about topics the adults would find interesting. In essence, I had no idea what they were talking about, while they had no idea about the topics that would have interested me. The “geek stuff” as Aaron still liked to call it.
While I wanted to appreciate their efforts, too much had happened for me to just forget about it and play happy family. The fact that Logan was still running his interference game whenever one of the Women showed an interest, while nobody but me seemed to notice, also killed any inclination I might have had to return their effort. This was how the evening was progressing, until they inadvertently caused it all to go to shit.