By the timeLuca’s grandparents arrive from the airport, it’s already almost six in the evening. We decide to go out to dinner as a family, versus having Mom cook, since she’ll be doing enough of that tomorrow. Luca and I ride with our parents to the restaurant, while the grandparents all go in one car.
It’s great that both sets of grandparents get along so well. It makes the holidays that much easier. Some families we know have to go to multiple houses each holiday, trying to fit time in with everyone. That sounds fucking exhausting. Our holidays have been this way since Mom and Andrew got together. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
We chose Anthony’s Hearthfire Grill, and Andrew was able to call ahead to get us a table so we wouldn’t have to wait. This is one of the bigger steakhouses in the area, so it gets packed, especially around the holidays.
Luca and I sit next to each other at the table, and everyone makes easy conversation. While life at college and friends there are enjoyable, nothing beats coming home and getting to spend time catching up with family like this.
Our food finally comes and smells so fucking good. Luca, Andrew, and I all got the steak and barbecued prawns, and fuck, it’s like heaven in my mouth. The steak is so tender, full of flavor and the prawns taste fresh. A moan almost spills from my mouth when I take my first bite.
Taking our time eating, we all update each other on what’s new in our lives. Andrew took on a few new big clients at work, and Mom recently got back from a weekend in New York with her friends. My grandparents bought a boat, while Luca’s grandparents are remodeling their Vancouver home. Everyone is beyond proud of Luca and I for continuing our family’s legacy at WSU.
By the time we get home from dinner, it’s close to ten, and our grandparents retire to the guesthouse for the night. Mom makes the rest of us some hot cocoa and we relax in the living room together by the fire for a bit, before they ultimately head to bed too.
With only Luca and I left awake, we decide to get some wine and listen to music by the fire. We used to do this all the time when we were teenagers—wait for our parents to go to bed on the weekends, then get wine wasted. Going upstairs to grab the bean bags that are in our rooms, Luca turns his phone playlist on shuffle. Numb by Brennan Savage plays while we drink and mindlessly talk about random shit.
Being drunk around Luca, especially after the holding pinky incident, is risky. Neither of us has mentioned our tense car conversation either, and I’m sure we probably won’t. We are nothing, if not professionals, at pretending things don’t happen anymore. I’m surprised at how well we can put ourselves in awkward situations over and over again, then wake up the next day and pretend they never happened. It probably isn’t the healthiest way to deal with our feelings, but hey, it’s worked for us so far.
Why fix what isn’t broken, right?
The song changes to When we were broken by Our Last Night, and I can feel the energy completely shift in the room. We’re both on our fourth glass of wine, having gone through two bottles at this point, and we are simply existing next to each other. Luca is fidgeting with his cup beside me. Something is on his mind, but per usual, it has to be dragged out of him.
“Say it.”
“Say what?”
Oh, we’re going to play dumb tonight, I see.
“I can tell you have something on your mind. Just say it.”
He’s silent for a while. I almost think he won’t say anything at all, but then he does.
“Why did you tell me I deserve better the night of Cash’s birthday?” He’s being so quiet and timid. The question is out of left field, leading me to think it’s been on his mind as much as it’s been on mine since he heard me say it last week.
Turning to face him, I look him in the eye before answering honestly. “I don’t know why I said it, but I know I meant it.” I really don’t know why I said it. It isn’t my place or my business to tell him what he does or doesn’t deserve from his relationship.
We both return to silence while we finish our drinks. Despite how uncomfortable moments can be between us lately, whenever it’s just us and the silence, everything feels so peaceful and content. There is something so calming about being in his presence. I can’t explain it, but I like to think he feels the same.
I stand up, planning to take the wine glasses and the empty bottles into the kitchen. He rises at the same time, and we somehow crash together, grunting as we hit our heads against each other’s. I don’t even know how that was possible, but instinctively, I reach out to grip his shoulders to steady him and make sure he’s okay.
His eyes are red-rimmed and glassy from the wine, which makes his blue irises shine so bright. His eyes are beautiful. I feel like I can see into his soul by just looking into them.
Getting lost in his gaze for a few long seconds, I finally remember what happened. “I’m so sorry, man. Are you okay?”
“Yup, yeah. It was my fault. Sorry, Bran. Wasn’t paying attention.”
“No worries, we both weren’t paying attention. I'll put these away and we can go to bed, yeah?”
“Sounds good, night.” He heads on up the stairs to his room while I get rid of our wine binge evidence and head up to my own room. Our bedrooms share a wall, unlike at our Pullman house, where his room is down the hall from mine. If I’m being honest with myself, I like the idea of him being so close to me when we sleep.
Last weekend when Cuntney and her friend drunkenly passed out in his room and we ended up sharing a bed, I slept better than I had in so long. It’s rare I fall asleep so easily and stay asleep all night.
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