Welcome Home

After work on Monday I headed to my parents house for a "welcome home" dinner for my father.  It wasn't going to be a big ordeal.  My mom had given me a heads up of the guest list, which included myself, my brother, and Ben and Gloria (Zach's parents).  Since my brother's mystery girlfriend (or fiancee?) was MIA, and I hadn't met her, I was curious to see if he would bring her along.

As I was driving up our extended driveway, I saw Ben and Gloria walking the front walk to the door.  They turned when they heard my car, and paused, smiling and waving.  I hopped out and briskly walked over to them opening my arms.  Gloria enveloped me into a hug first, telling me how long my hair was getting and I looked fabulous and she missed me.  I returned the sentiments (minus her hair length).  I squeezed her tightly, truly missing her.  Ben spoke up, asking when his turn was and chuckling.  I switched over to Ben, giving him a strong hug, too.  He pulled back, leaving his hands on my shoulder and seriously said, "You know that son of mine misses you."  And he raised an eyebrow at me, as if questioning why that would be.

I smiled sheepishly and told him to tell Zach hi for me the next time he spoke with him.  He put his arm around me and we walked into the house together.  My mom was sitting in a chair and came rushing over, greeting me with a kiss on the forehead, and then moved on to Ben and Gloria.  I peered around my mother to see my father lounged on a deep leather chair with his feet propped up on a stool.

I started walking towards him, a smile breaking onto my face while taking in his appearance.  Tears came to my eyes because of how much I had missed him and how happy I was to see him.  He was usually dressed immaculately, but today he was lounging in sweat pants and a t-shirt with thick fuzzy socks on his feet.  My dad had lost weight and his arms seemed skinnier, and he had dark circles under his eyes.  His once thick and groomed hair: gone.  He seemed unusually pale, but when his eyes rested on me, they brightened, and a wide smile broke across his face.

"Oh, daddy, I'm so happy to see you," I choked out.

He teased, "But you're crying."  Physically he may be stripped of health, but it would never take his sense of humor.

I leaned down and gingerly embraced him, "Tears of joy, of course."  And we laughed together, genuine hearty laughs.  "But it looks like you need to eat!"

He sighed.  "You don't even understand how disappointing it is that chemo ruined my appetite."  My father and I both love food.  We didn't eat to nourish, we ate to enjoy.

"That is terrible!" I said, truly meaning it.  I sat down on the arm of the chair and lowered my voice and asked, "But how are you doing?"

He reached over and grabbed my hand with one of his, and squeezed weakly.  "I'm okay.  Really."

"Dad, I mean, what do the doctors know now?"

"We'll talk about it later."  He raised his voice then and spoke past me, "Ben, Gloria, thank you for gracing us with your presence!"

They laughed and began speaking back and forth.  I wandered into the kitchen to find my mother who had disappeared, presumably to cook.  She was pouring glasses of wine.  "Hey mom, is Tom going to be here?"

"Yeah," she glanced up at me and looked back down at the glasses.  "He went to pick up Miriam."  So that's her name.

"His girlfriend?"  I felt nervous, then.

"Yes.  And Aleah?  Tom mentioned to me that you met Miriam.  I guess she told him you were quite rude to her."  She looked up at me disapprovingly.  "I'm really disappointed in your manners.  We raised you better than that."

"Oh my gosh mom, I can't even believe you're believing that..." I paused, searching for the right word.  "That woman," I spat out, as if being a woman was the equivalent of having the bubonic plague and swine flu combined, "over me."

"Aleah," she snapped at me.  She also gave me the eye.  Whenever mom gave the eye to my brother or I, it was like an immediate trump card of "say another word and your hide is mine."

I quickly shut my mouth, on the verge of another protest.  I tried another tactic.  I innocently asked, "Have you met Miriam?"

"No, but Tom really seems to like her a lot."  She had moved on to cutting up chunks of cheese into slices, and was placing them on a plate.  "Please try to be inclusive of her."  I could tell by the tone of her voice that it was a demand, not a request.

I sighed and joined her in cutting by grabbing the log of summer sausage she had laying there.  We chopped in silence, and added crackers to the spread.  When finished, we took the serving trays of food (which also included fruit plates) out to the veranda on the back of the house, where dad, Ben, and Gloria had moved to.  My mom sat her tray down and then settled into a chair, joining them.  She asked me to get the drinks.  I set the tray I was carrying down on the table they were sitting at and went back into the house to grab the tray with the four glasses of wine, and the glass with ice and a bottle of ginger ale next to it.  I smiled to myself, not lost on the fact that my mom was lumping me with the adults now, by giving me wine.  I knew my dad couldn't drink alcohol and that the ginger ale was for him.  My smile then turned smug, and I snickered thinking that I should add another glass of wine for Miriam.

"Aleah."  I jumped, thinking I was the only one in the house, the glasses and bottle all teetered precariously from my startle response.  I steadied myself and turned my head to see Tom.  Only Tom.

"You never called me back."  Petty, I know.

He shrugged.

"I think we need to talk."

Before he could respond or I could elaborate, in walked Miriam.  Her smile as fake as the day is long.  The same woman from the bridal shop.  I attempted to smile back, but I couldn't force my muscles to move.  She looked even older than what I remembered.  Like possibly early thirties or so.  It probably was due to the fact that she was standing next to Tom with his boyish good looks, and who appeared younger than his 18 years.  She had an entirely inappropriate outfit on.  Pink jeggings and a white button up dress shirt that was tied and knotted in the front to make it a belly shirt, showing off her flat, brownish/orange-ish stomach.  Multiple top buttons were unbuttoned to reveal an ample amount of cleavage.  It looked like it belonged with a naughty Halloween costume, not with an every day outfit to meet the parents of your significant other in the Midwest.

A giggle escaped my mouth, and a smile came easily, then.  "Oh, hello, Miriam."  All I could imagine at that moment, was what my conservative Christian parents' expressions were going to be when she walked in.  To Tom, I said, "I was just about to take the wine out to the veranda where everyone is already seated."  I pointedly looked at Miriam, and sweetly asked, "Would you like a glass?"

Tom looked mortified, clearly aware that she didn't need to be carded.  Miriam narrowed her eyes at me, but quickly recovered.  "Oh, no thank you.  I don't drink alcohol."  She walked towards me until she was within reach and said, "It's bad for your skin.  You should consider drinking less."  Her voice was dripping with feigned concern.

I wanted to slap her, but instead obviously looked over all of her exposed skin and replied, "They say the same about the sun.  Maybe you should consider using sun screen."  I smiled sarcastically at her, and then turned on my heel to head for the veranda.  I could feel Tom's eyes boring holes into the back of my head.

I opened the door and carefully walked in, gleefully announcing to Ben, Gloria, and my parents, "Tom and Miriam have arrived!"

All eyes turned towards the door, and with a feeling of satisfaction, I watched as all of the welcoming smiles on their faces shifted into looks of surprise, disgust, and grimaces, and then back to artificial smiles within seconds.