"The only feeling I can describe is one of relief. It's like I told you the morning of the wedding, I should have been happy and excited to start my life with her, but I wasn't. Everyone told me it was just cold feet. Perhaps I wasn't the only one with cold feet."
"Maybe you are merely numb to it all. Maybe that is why you aren't upset about it."
I let out a laugh. "Nah, I don't think so. Maybe I’m still processing it, but to be honest, the only logical explanation I have is that I am my mother's child. That's it." I shrugged.
"Drew, you are nothing like her. Just because she walked out on your dad and you when you were younger and didn't act like she cared doesn't mean that you are the same."
"Sure it does. You explain it then." I shrugged.
"Okay, I don't think it's that at all. Perhaps you just haven't found the right woman yet."
"Zach, I had been with Laura for fifteen years. Fifteen years, man. We never fought, we liked all the same things, and we did everything together."
Zach held up his hand for me to stop. "Perhaps that is just it. Couples should argue, man. You should have an all-out fight occasionally, clear the air. It's not natural for people to get along one hundred percent of the time."
"True. Now can we please talk about something else?"
Zach put the blinker on and turned onto the familiar road. "You got it. You ready for my mom’s apple raisin pie?"
I had spent many years with Zach and his family up here after my mom had left, my father having gone down a very bad road with alcohol addiction. They had become a second family to me, and it was to them that I owed for what I had today. If it hadn't been for their influence on me, I would probably be just like my dad, drunk on some street corner somewhere in the city.
"Honestly, I can't wait," I said, looking out the window as Zach drove into the main part of town.
Everything looked the same as it always did. We drove past all the same little stores in the town center, most of them the ones that we used to visit during the summer holidays.
"How's Lex?" I asked.
"She's good, off freelancing around the world. She is such a flighty spirit. I have no idea how she does what she does. The girl has no guarantee of income, but somehow she manages to land on her feet every single time."
"That's great. We all should be more like her."
Zach looked over at me as if I had lost my mind. "You sure you're feeling all right?" He chuckled.
"Yeah, I'm good. I just figure she probably has a lot less stress than we do. We have responsibility." I laughed.
Zach pulled onto the familiar street and into the driveway of the family’s home. The chalet looked the same as it always had, a mix of stone and wood front, the large picture window in the front overlooking the mountain behind us.
"Home sweet home," Zach whispered.
I looked up at the front of the house. The only decorations they had out were the wreath on the front door and the garland sprays on the railings. Two wreaths also hung off the outside lights. The rest, as usual, would be for us to put up. Zach and I would do the outdoor lights and the tree as always. As I looked up at the front door, a funny feeling sunk into the pit of my stomach, and I suddenly felt very out of place.
I hadn't even undone my seatbelt when Zach turned toward me, already standing outside of the vehicle. "Are you coming or are you spending the holidays out here in the driveway?"
"Man, perhaps I should just stay at a hotel," I mumbled.
Zach was just about to pull out a couple bags from the back seat but stopped what he was doing and looked at me. "You'd better be kidding. You know you are welcome here always. Hell, my mother would chase you all the way back to the city with a rolling pin if she heard you say that."
We both let out a laugh. "Yeah, hell, you're probably right."
"We should get inside. I know when I spoke to her the other day she said she was planning on baking up a storm yesterday and today. I also know for a fact that she has our favorite cookies in there right now, probably just cool enough to sneak in a few bites before dinner."
I remembered the cinnamon swirl cookies he was referring to and my stomach let out a growl. "Sounds great." I hopped out of the car and grabbed my bag from the back seat, giving Zach a hand with his bag as he grabbed his ski boots and helmet. We raced up the stairs just like we had when we were kids, Zach pushing me out of the way to get inside first, both of us laughing as I slipped on the icy step and dropped our bags, putting my hands out to brace myself from falling. I bent down to pick up the bags and Drew went to reach for the door handle.
"That's it, fuck face, the cookies are–"
Zach stopped mid-sentence. "Fuck you, they are," I said, laughing as I picked up the bags I had dropped and continued the climb up the stairs, running straight into Zach's back.
"What the hell are you two doing making all this noise. You both sound like a herd of elephants coming up those front stairs. You scared Mom and me half to death."