Antipodes

Five

Family dinner. Brilliant ! He hated that more than anything, the forced conversations, the petty smiles ... He found it particularly hypocritical. He would have been capable of stabbing his father with a bread knife if it had not been a crime. But he held on, every time, bearing the remarks and the unfriendly insinuations. He promised himself not to crack, not to succumb to the anger, not to be the one who would implode first. The last three years taught him to remain calm whatever the circumstances. And luckily, Zoe was here tonight.

Zoe was almost everything to Ryan. They met when they were little in the middle of the school year. Ryan had recently moved from Dublin. Dublin was all he ever known from the world back then. He was born and raised there and taught only Irish customs. But after his mother had died, he had to live with his father again. He liked his father but he hated the circumstances of their reunion. So when he first came to New York, Zoe was his first friend. Then became his first crush, his first time and his last - at least that what he thought until he made it back to America. And tonight, she was still there.

In the evening, he decided to go to the beach with Zoe to get some fresh air  before the suicide mission that was the dinner for him. He smoked three cigarettes in a row and said to himself that he should stop one day. It made him even more nervous. He inhaled, sighed and laid on the sand, looking at Zoe. Her hair was longer than the last time he saw her, brushed in heavy curls. The summer heat brought out the freckles on her nose and the icy blue of her eyes.She wore practically no make up yet she was gorgeous. He looked at her, stunned. She then turned her head looking at him curiously.

"You look like shit", she commented putting a cigarette in her mouth. 

"Thanks", he responded. "I actually feel like shit".

"Relax, it's just a dinner", she said putting her head on his stomach and turning her head to look through straight to his eyes. He looked away. 

"You know exactly how I feel about that". 

"Why are you looking away?", she asked. "You know that I can decipher what you feel only by the tone of your voice", she reminded him.

"Do not psychoanalyse me", he said firmly looking straight into her eyes.

His father was late for the dinner. When he finally made his entrance, Kath whispered something into Ryan's ear and he smiled. His father was an extremely charismatic man with such a presence that everyone loved him. Ryan loved him too, it was his father but he disliked the way he treated him. He felt like he was a constant disappointment for him every single moment of his life.  Christopher Harrelson was in his mid-fifties, but he looked ten years younger. He was thin and tall, perfectly in shape as he was fastidious on all that he swallowed. His brown hair was perfectly brushed, his custom-made suit highlighting his thin silhouette. His brown eyes sparkled when he saw his son's face.

Ryan offered his hand to shake for his father but he didn't take it and hugged him instead, tapping him on the shoulder. 

"It's so good to see you again, son", said his father.

"It's good to see you too, dad", he said hesitating, surprised by the sudden surge of affection.

They all went to the dining room after that. It was an extension of the living room with windows from soil to ceiling. The big oak table could welcome about twenty people. They never were more than twelve to eat there. He made sure that he seated beside Zoe just in case. The dinner was all about him, he hated that kind of attention. But his father tried some jokes that made him laugh for the first time today. 

After the dinner, he went to sit down on the edge of the swimming pool and smoked his umpteenth cigarette of the day. His father joined him with two glasses of whiskey. He handed him one sitting beside him.

"No thanks, I've had too much".

His father laughed. "You're Irish, son !"

"It's a bit racist", he retorted.

"It's not poisoned", commented his father insisting. "You should seriously stop smoking. It's eating the life out of you."

"Well that's the point", answered Ryan coldly.

"Do you think that we have to spend the rest of our lives like that?", asked his father in a sudden serious tone. "Fighting like cats and dogs?"

"I don't know, I'm tired".

"Tired of what?"

"Kind of everything", he said throwing his cigarette butt in the glass of whisky and getting up. 

"Are you okay son?" 

"Yes, father. I'm fine", he responded heading for the living room where his step mom, sister and Zoe were all busy chatting and laughing. He walked to Zoe and whispered in her ear "Stay here tonight. Please". She looked at him as he took the stairs up to his room.

"What's wrong with him?", asked Katheryn.

"He must be tired. It's a little late, I'll talk to him".

Katheryn looked at her husband, sipping his whisky alone on the patio. She was wondering if he had something to do with that. She went to him and asked him herself.

"I tried to talk to him like you suggested. He was... weird", said Christopher.

"He is weird. He've always been", his wife retorted.

She found him lying on his bed, on his stomach. She lay beside him, on her back and looked at him.

"Time will come and you will talk to me. I want to know what happened to you", she said playing with his hair.

He turned his head to her, "I wish I knew myself". And he kissed her. He was such a mess. Her lips were heaven and her mouth tasted of cigarettes and the wine they've been drinking the whole dinner. Or maybe it was his mouth.

"I love you Zoe Camilla Jones", he said.

"I love you too Ryan Christopher Harrelson". But she didn't spend the night.