Remember When

I hate holidays and my escape from Christmas dinner was carefully planned. I had a plane ticket to a warm beach on standby and a fake work emergency in my back pocket. I would be spending the absolute bare minimum amount of time in my parent’s house.

That was before everything went to shit though.

I am the last kid to arrive back home and it is intentional. I recognize Kai’s battered pick up in the driveway and hear Simon’s booming laugh as soon as I step through the front door.

But Mom and Dad are nowhere to be found.

Without even greeting my siblings, I make a beeline for the liquor cabinet. I pour myself the biggest glass of wine possible and watch the snow fall through the rapidly darkening window. What had been flurries on my drive here was now coming down in a hard slant, complete with howling wind.

“Oh,” I turn away from the window at Kai’s gasp, “I didn’t realize you were already here.”

Only eighteen months apart, Kai and I were inseparable throughout elementary and middle school. In high school I did her makeup for homecoming dances and she taught me how to climb a tree so I could sneak out on weekends.

I simply raise my glass in her general direction and head for the back of the house. Mom will have decorated the family room with a twelve foot tree, enough tinsel to fill a small pool, and our stockings hanging on the mantle even though we’re all closer to middle age than childhood now.

I have barely settled in the corner of the couch when I am plunged into darkness.

”What the hell?” I yell, cut off by a loud shattering from the kitchen.

”Shit. Fuck. Oh shit,” I can hear Kai fumbling around in the kitchen and make my way there by phone flashlight.

A pool of wine seeps across the hardwood floor like blood. It makes me think of the time Simon cracked his head on the island countertop and had to get nine stitches. I remember the way he screamed and wailed as Dad scooped him up and rushed to the hospital. How Kai and I had silently helped Mom clean up the blood and then waited anxiously in the kitchen until Simon returned with a thick head wrap and a dinosaur sticker.

”Fucking help me!” Kai snaps, flinging a kitchen towel in my direction.

I sop up as much of the puddle as the threadbare towel can absorb and then cast around for wherever the hell I put my keys. I’m not spending the next undetermined amount of time in the cold and dark with my siblings.

I don’t even make it out the front door. The wind whips icy pellets in my face and the sun has set so rapidly I can’t see more than a few feet in front of me. A hand grabs the hood of my coat and I am yanked back inside by Simon, “The fuck are you doing?”

”Leaving,” I try to answer with conviction in my voice, but it only takes one glance out the window to realize my flight wouldn’t be taking off even if I could get to the airport.

”Shut up and help me turn the generator on,” Simon clicks on a headlamp and disappears towards the basement. My only other option being cleaning up glass with Kai, I follow Simon.

When we were all little we played games of make believe in the basement for hours and hours. The crawl space became unexplored caves and the stairs a treacherous mountain. The boxes of stuff made great building blocks for our forts. Mom’s retired pageant gowns were our favorite dress up clothes.

In our teenage years the basement became a haven for all the things our parents warned us against. We stole liquor from our parents and played spin the bottle with our friend groups. I lost my virginity in the makeshift spare room tucked in the corner. Simon snuck girls in through the laundry room and Kai and I kept our stash of weed carefully hidden among untouched boxes of baby clothes and middle school yearbooks.

I haven’t been down here in years and everything is eerily untouched. My childhood is held in every piece of this house, but I have never felt more disconnected from the simplicity and innocence of youth.

”I need more light,” Simon is examining a squat, gray box against the wall. I can see my breath in little puffs as I join him with my phone flashlight.

He starts flipping switches, and when that doesn’t bring the generator to life he punches several buttons. My teeth start to chatter and I pull my puffy winter coat tighter. I should be on a plane right now.

Simon slaps one hand firmly on the smooth top of the machine. “The damn thing is broken,” he grumbles when the impact doesn’t kick start the machine.

”Hey!” Kai calls down the stairs, her voice echoing strangely on the cinder block walls, “I have a fire going in the fireplace.”

”What are we pilgrims?” Simon mutters, but he follows me back upstairs.

The three of us huddle under blankets in front of Kai’s crackling fire. “Where are Mom and Dad?” I finally break our tense silence.

”Went to the grocery store, probably got stuck in the snow,” Simon responds. He’s the only one of us who stayed in our hometown, visiting Mom and Dad every few weeks so that Kai and I can visit a few times a year. The oldest, Simon has always had a fierce loyalty to Mom and Dad and is the only one who has really been around as they have aged.

Kai takes a swig straight from a bottle of whiskey that she has been cradling on her lap, “Guess we’re stuck here until the storm passes then,” She announces. Neither Simon nor I say anything back, but I grab the whiskey bottle from her lap, take the biggest gulp I can manage, and pass it to Simon.

—

An hour later, the three of us are cold, hungry, drunk, and still huddles around the fireplace.

”Remember when Mom caught you sneaking out and made you volunteer at the old folk’s home every weekend for the rest of the year?” Simon downs the last drops of whiskey as he reminds of one of Mom’s more creative punishments.

I snort a laugh, “I still get emails from that place.” The alcohol is sitting uneasily in my stomach and I’m not sure how deep into our childhood lore I really want to go today.

”Remember when you split your head on the counter?” Kai pipes up. I guess the wine spill had triggered the same memories for her.

Simon brushes his hair off his forehead to expose a small, vertical scar, “All I really remember is the movie they let me watch while they stitched me up.”

We lapse back into silence, but it’s a comfortable one this time. We are all fairly close in age and got along well as kids, I’m not even sure what happened between us as adults. One day I could share anything with my siblings, then we moved out of the house and drifted further and further apart. Holidays became tense and forced, the three of us so consumed by adult life we had lost our sibling bond.

Maybe it’s the cold and snow storm, or maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe I’m just sad and nostalgic but I wish Kai, Simon, and I were still close. I guess it’s my fault for moving the furthest away and coming back to visit the least.

”I just got fired,” I blurt, focusing my gaze on the fire to avoid seeing their reactions. “Well, I’ve actually been unemployed for a few months and I’m about to be evicted.” The plane ticket I won’t get to use was bought with airline points months ago and I needed something to look forward to so badly that I never canceled the trip.

“Well, you could move in with me,” Simon responds, “Kelly just left me, so I have a lot of extra room.” His jaw is set and his eyes are clouded as Simon drops his own bombshell.

”I”m gay.”

Simon and I both turn towards Kai in surprise at her sudden admission. Not even really surprised at the news so much as the delivery.

”I haven’t told Mom and Dad, I just really needed to say it.”

Simon jumps up and disappear as into the kitchen, where we hear him rummaging around by headlamp. He returns with three glasses and a bottle of champagne. “Cheers to our fucked up lives,” he announces as he passes around the bubbling glasses.

”I’m not fucked up, just gay,” Kai adds.

The lights flicker back on as we clink glasses.