I Hate Family Reunions
“God, I’m an idiot.” I said to my empty bedroom, flopping on my bed. Of course, I just had to open my mouth and make things worse.
I reached for my phone and called Julie, my friend since the second grade. After the first two rings, she picked up.
“Hey-”
“I hate family reunions.” I said, cutting her off.
“Was Tracy there?” She asked me.
“Yes, and she made me want to light the house on fire.”
Ah yes, Aunt Tracy, my mother’s sister. She’s the relative that everyone hates, yet she doesn’t seem to know it.
Family reunions have always been a bit hard for me. It’s a bunch of adults crowding you, saying that you grew so much and you just stand there like:Hello, Yes. I have grown a bit since I was a newborn. Who are you?
But every two years, every reunion, the same thing happens. I look across the room, and she stands there, staring at me. We make eye contact, and she saunters over, with her pointy nose in the air.
She starts asking me the basic questions, ‘How’s school?’ ‘Are you in any sports?’ until she asks the question she always asks.
“How’s that ‘Bi’ phase of yours going?”
Every reunion. Every time. And I never say anything back. It usually doesn’t bother me that much, I never really care if she supports me or not, and I only have to see her twice a year at the most. So I usually brush it off and move on.
But today, I finally cracked. She was just so annoying. With her nasal voice, the bright patterns that don’t make any sense together that she wears, and of course, the fact that she’s convinced she’s better than everyone else; despite the fact that her marriage is failing. Really it’s a shame, I like Uncle Aaron.
So with these years of repressed disrespect, I finally spoke up,
“A Lot better than your marriage, that’s for sure.”
She dropped her glass of wine. I myself stood in shock, not believing that those words came out of my mouth.
I ignored the red liquid seeping into my shoes, focusing on the woman in front of me, and trying not to cry. Next thing I know, Tracy is yelling her head off at me and my mother, who arrived at my side, about how disrespectful I had been. Neither of us expected what she yelled next.
“You should be ashamed of your daughter! You’ve failed as a mother!”
Mom grabbed my arm and our coats on the way out the door. Nothing was said on the way to the car or the ride home.
I stared at her or out the passenger window. We looked a lot alike; we both had blonde hair and pale skin. I had a lot more freckles than her, and our eye colors were different. I had green eyes, like my dad, and she had blue.
After about twenty minutes into the drive, I turned the radio on, just to have a distraction.
I looked back at my mom and saw tears forming in her eyes. Deciding to turn away my gaze, I look down at my feet. The tips of my gray sneakers were stained with the wine, and I could still feel it on my feet.
We finally arrived home, and I immediately went upstairs to my room. Look at that, we’ve come full circle! Congrats!
“So, yeah…” I said, after telling the whole story to Julie.
“Wow. I mean, she sucks, but what you did was really cool.”
“Yeah, if she didn’t start yelling afterward, I would’ve enjoyed it more.”
We moved past that topic and started talking about random things until she had to leave for supper. Me and Mom were supposed to have a reunion, but…
I go downstairs and into the kitchen to find some food. I decided on food and checked the time on the microwave:
6:42
Jules should have been done with dinner soon, so I made chicken nuggets and turned on the TV while I waited.
The news was on, and I left it like that just for background noise.
“... and fourteen-year-old Victor Cross was found dead late last night.” That caught my attention, usually when they announce deaths in a small town, it’s an old person who volunteers at the community gardens. And they never say ‘found’.
I turned up the volume and listened to the lady on the screen.
“At around 10:00 P.M. Last night, Victor’s body was found washed up on the shore of Hooks Creek Lake. Authorities have not been able to contact either of his parents, Mr and Mrs Cross..”
Cross… I thought to myself. Where had I heard that name before? It sounded very familiar. Just then, my phone rang, Julie was calling me.
I answered and immediately started interrogating her.
“Did you hear about the Cross kid on the news?” I asked,
“The one that died in the lake?”
“Yeah, I’m watching the news right now, and they can’t contact his parents.”
“Y’know, you’d think that if your child died, and it was broadcasted on the news, you would be in touch with the authorities,” she said.
“Jules!” I exclaimed.
“What?”
“You can’t say that! They might be grieving.” I told her.
“They might.” She said, “What else are they saying?”
I turned my attention back to the T.V. “-oraties also haven’t figured out the cause of death, but ar-”
“They don’t know the cause of death yet.” I said, repeating the lady on the screen.
“How? I’m pretty sure it’s obvious that he drowned.”
“What if he was stabbed and the stabber threw him into the lake? Hmm?” I asked her, getting up from the couch and putting my plate in the sink.
“I feel like they would see the stab wounds, though.” She said,
I laughed as I made my way back into the living room to turn off the T.V. when they showed a picture of the kid, Victor.
Sure, the lady on the news said he was fourteen, but he looked so young. The picture seemed to have been taken fairly recently, sometime in the summer, at Hooks Creek Lake. He was facing the camera with a clearly forced smile, his fluffy black hair almost covering his dark eyes. His skin was a stark contrast to those, being very pale.
He was sitting on a rock, wearing long, dark pants, and a black T-shirt. Not the best choice of clothing for a summer day.
After staring at the picture, I felt my stomach sink. He was only two years younger than me and Jules, probably went to school with us for all I knew, and he died.
I quickly turn off the TV and bring my phone back up to my ear. The subject of the conversation changed, and I was thankful for that.
We continued talking as I made my way upstairs to my room and laid down on my bed, and we planned the events for tomorrow.
“We should go on a drive tomorrow with the truck.” I suggested.
“Oooh yes. And we should stop at Hooks Creek.” Julie responded.
“You do know that’s how every horror movie starts, right? Going to the place where someone just died, saying that nothing’s going to happen and then we all die?”
“That’s just in movies. Plus, Hooks Creek has the best view.” she retorded.
“Fine, but if anything tries to kill us, I’m blaming you.”
“Okay, if anything tries to kill us, I’ll buy you $100 worth of craft supplies for your scrapbooks.”
I smiled at that, and we continued to talk into the late hours of the night.
