A slow fall

Chapter 4 - Caleb

As much as I wanted to leave Church, I'm not sure this was any better. There was a tension in the car as we drove away from the town centre.

I wasn't sure what the problem was, the most logical guess was that I'd done something wrong, but I could think of anything noteworthy. Maybe I was imagining it? Creating demons in my mind that weren't actually there. Maybe I was the only one who felt it; the only one who was aware of the shift in our relationship and the strain it caused. I believe my parents loved me in there own way - or maybe I still held onto that small fragment of hope that was in my grasp, the singular shard of glass that remained from my cracked glasses, cutting into my skin as I clung to it. 

Maybe to them the silence was welcome, to me it was uncomfortable, and when it became too much I spoke.

"How was date night?"

"It was nice. We went to Gino's; you know, the Italian in the city? I got pasta, your father got lasagne."

"Yeah, it was a little small, but nice."

"He always complains that pasta dishes are small, but gets them every time."

"I get it because I like pasta, I just don't understand why they give you so little."

"It was a fancy restaurant. Higher quality food means high prices and small portions. Was it worth it? Would you go back?"

My mother pondered that for a moment before nodding her head, "yes, I think I would. The food was good and the atmosphere was nice. Well worth the money."

"I agree. Next time though remind me not to get pasta."

My mother smiled at him, a soft chuckled escaping her lips. "I will, but you'll still get it. Like every time." My father only rolled his eyes in response, a small smile gracing his lips.

After a moment I spoke again. It was nice speaking to them like this, as if nothing was wrong with our dynamic, as if they were the parents I wished them to be. They spoke as if I was one of my bothers and for a moment there was nothing wrong with me. I wasn't sinning, I wasn't disgusting, unnatural, unlovable. I wasn't the person my parents despised and were intent on saving - changing and shaping into what they deemed normal, right, perfect. 

For a small period of time I was just Caleb, and they weer just my parents. Nothing else existed to come between us. I knew it wouldn't last. At some point reality would come crashing down and the happy family dynamic would exist no more. But for now I would cherish what I had, what I had lost. 

"Did you do anything after?"

"We just came home and watched a film."

"You watched a film? Let me guess, mum fell asleep halfway through?"

"She didn't even make it that long." Dad said with a laugh that received him a playful glare. 

"I was tired and the film was boring."

"How would you know," Dad joked, "You watched about twenty minutes in total, the beginning and the end."

"See, I watched the key moments and they did nothing to convince me to watch more. What about you? How was your night?"

"Yeah, it was good." When I got home this morning my parents were still asleep, thankfully, and I was able to get changed before they woke up. By the time I made my way downstairs I was being ushered to the car, and not much conversing happened on our journey to Church.

"Was it just you and Marcus?" Dad asked, his dislike for Marcus obvious in his tone. My parents were never too fond of my best friend, for several reasons they bring up far too often. His family wasn't religious, one. He was 'rude and improper', two. He didn't excel academically, three. The list continued. Generally, they believed he was dragging me down and that our friendship was harmful.