Asunder

Chapter 13 - Come Back Soon

After an hour, everyone at the table is more than fully satisfied with the barbecue. All of our bellies have grown a little. A lot in James' case, who finished off the food himself, but not without asking us if we wanted more.

Sky's parents are in the process of giving a tour of their garden to my mom. As they walk slowly, pointing at begonias and daisies and pesky weeds, I sit on the ground where the table was. Playing with a long strand of grass, twisting it between my fingers, I watch them talk.

The dinner went on smoothly as a dream, with never a tense moment, never a side-eye glance. Everyone seemed so happy and excited at the table, and everyone always had something to say, to add.
James and Hana included me in their conversation, and I'd say I'm satisfied with my participation. Though my answers would've been better if I hadn't been so distracted.
I couldn't stop myself from thinking about what a rare family this is, bringing no grudges or arguments to the table, being open and kind and friendly. It almost became uncomfortable to me, without the awkwardness or passive aggressive energy. Of course, it's possible that it was an act, that this was the best version of them presented to us for the sake of a good impression, but it certainly felt real.

I hear the door to the house open and close, and I look up to see that Sky has finished putting the plates and utensils inside.

"I feel really bad I didn't help with that," I vocalize. I offered of course, but Hana insisted that Sky do it by himself.
"It's fine," he says, plopping down next to me, "I'm a big boy."
I snort and resist the urge to push against his shoulder. "Sure you are."

Laughter sounds from the corner of the garden where the roses are. The adults go on talking, joking together, as if mom has known them forever. But she's good at giving people that impression.

"Your parents are so great," I say, shaking my head. Really, I'm still amazed at the way they interact; from the way they talk to each other, to the way they look at each other.
"They really are," he says, glancing at them, "I'm really lucky."
"Yeah, you have no idea," I say without thinking, and the strand of grass snaps under my fingers. I look down to take another one.
"Okay, I won't ask for details, but... is it that bad?" he says, eyebrows arching.
"What, no! I... no it's not," I answer hastily. Mom would hate it if these people thought we were anything less than a perfect family. "I swear they're fine. It's just that yours are so... I guess, different?"
He doesn't seem convinced. But he doesn't press, and rips out a weed next to my hand: "Well if it's a good kind of different, you're welcome back anytime."

I look at him. The sun shines like a halo around his head, setting his hair alight. It makes his eyes so striking in contrast, so dark against the blinding light. I look at them as I speak, "Is that your call to make?"
"I don't think they'd mind," he says, glancing at James and Hana, "my parents really like you."
"You think so?" I ask, and he nods. He lowers his voice, though no one is listening,
"They don't look at my other friends that way."

I can't help but grin, and he answers with his own. I break off two long strands of grass and hold them in my fingers. "How come?"

When I look back up at him, he's picking apart the weed in his hand, the faint ripping sound audible in the peaceful quiet. "They... weren't the best crowd."
"Were you lonely?" I inquire, and his hand stops moving.
He looks at me like he didn't expect that question. It's strange to see him caught off guard.

Since he came over to our door, he's had that rehearsed mask on. A mask that my mom seemed to enjoy. It didn't feel like intentional manipulation, at least not with ill intent, but then again I don't know him that well.
Still though, I could tell. I noticed how he shifted from attitude to attitude, from face to face. The difference is striking.