Under Pressure

Part 18

"So I know you usually spend Christmas with Michael and his family, but I'm requesting custody over you and Silas this year." Jeremy could hear Christine's grin over the phone.

"I don't know, that's like, fifteen years of tradition you're trying to uproot here. You might need to fight Michael to the death."

Christine blew a raspberry into the receiver. "I can take him. Do you know how beefy I've gotten since joining those hardcore performance art exercise sessions? Michael's a marshmallow compared to me."

Jeremy laughed, carefully balancing the phone on his shoulder, pressing it to his ear while he juggled a heavy stack of textbooks in his arms. "Yeah, you know, I'll be sure to relay that to him, unless you're planning on declaring the challenge yourself."

"Do carrier pigeons still exist?"

"Uuuh--" He snorted a laugh, then scrambled to keep the topmost book from falling from the stack. "Don't know. What does that-"

"Well anyway, I'll be there in a few days. I've missed you! How is everything going? Are things still okay with Linda? You know, I don't actually miss the snow as much as I thought I would? Is it snowing yet?"

"Yeah, it's-- It's been snowing on and off, typical stuff. And..." Jeremy trailed off, setting the pile of books down on a ledge. "Linda, my mom, uh. She and Alex are here for a couple of days for Hanukkah stuff." Which in and of itself was bizarre; he hadn't expected it or thought about it much, but she'd asked and, well, how could he say no? Jeremy was supposed to visit his dad tomorrow; they didn't do much during Hanukkah, not since his mom left. The menorah was buried somewhere in his dad's attic, forgotten and dusty. Usually, his dad would pick up a box of jelly donuts and a rotisserie chicken at some point during the week, and they'd sit in front of the TV, watching Eight Crazy Nights or Full-Court Miracle. His dad would gift him a wad of cash and Jeremy would get him a new tie, or a themed mug.

Then, whenever Christmas happened to roll around, he'd spend the day with Michael and his family, which was always a significantly more pleasant experience. It helped that half of it was spent getting baked in Michael's basement.

Now his mom was here, in his apartment once again, and it felt weird. She was going to make brisket with that Coca-Cola glaze she said was her Grandma's recipe, he loved it as a kid because it was nice and sweet. It almost felt wrong to do this, and then visit his dad the next day, pretending none of it had happened, that his mom was still somewhere in New York with her high school boyfriend, still a divorce lawyer who never bothered to talk to either of them, not even on birthdays.

"Oh! Oh my God, am I interrupting? Here I am, talking your ear off about the weather when you have family over, I can call back and talk about Christmas later."

"No, it's, uh, it's fine. I'm not home yet. I just finished exams." And now he had to return this stack of textbooks to the school store to hopefully get some extra spending money out of it.

"Man, I'm so done with exams. I have one more this afternoon and then I'm outta here..."

Jeremy let Christine talk as he navigated the campus hallways, skirting around other students desperately scurrying to their next exam, faces glued to notes for last-second cramming, not paying any attention to where they were going. He got rid of the stack of books, arms still aching from the weight of them, but the extra $50 lining his pocket was worth the hassle.

"And that's why I really don't like Mamma Mia. Which is such a shame y'know?"

"I don't think I ever watched that one..." Jeremy moved the phone away from his ear temporarily to readjust his scarf.