Chapter Twenty-Six: Christmas

I can still picture that Christmas in perfect clarity. It was the end of one chapter of my life, and the beginning of a new.

Despite the fact that his mouth was dry, Victor passed on the wine his father offered in order not to badger the knot in his stomach. The knot was ravaging around inside of him like a wild boar, and he didn't think alcohol would do anything to help matters. Across from him, his brother Robert accepted a glass, and quirked an eyebrow at Victor as if to say, "What crisis are you going to bring into the family now, little brother?"

Victor ignored him, concentrating all of his energy on not jiggling his legs, which would be a dead giveaway that he was nervous about something. His mother, thank God, was still in the kitchen, and his dad seemed oblivious to the fact that Victor didn't quite have his mind on his surroundings. Robert, of course, knew that something was up, but thankfully Nancy, who would have been able to pinpoint and drag information out of Victor in a heartbeat, had not shown up for Christmas dinner.

"Have either of you heard from your sister lately?" Ivan was asking as Victor finally tuned into the conversation again.

"A couple months ago," said Robert casually. "She and Lou were in Seattle playing at some club."

"She's well, Dad," added Victor, smiling for his father's sake. Nancy had been a wild child for as long as Victor could recall, but she had also been the apple of her father's eye. Her falling out with their mother had been so bad, though, that she hadn't been home in years. "I think she might be heading back south sometime soon."

"Hmm," said Ivan in a disinterested manner. In his mind though, Victor knew he squirreled away every bit of information they gave him.

"How's Uncle Michael?" asked Robert. "I haven't had a chance to see him since he was in the hospital."

"He's doing fine," said Ivan. "Nothing to worry about, as long as he takes it easy. Victor's been picking up the slack, no problem."

Victor nodded without hesitation. He had had no qualms about stepping forward a bit after Uncle Michael's heart attack. If anything, the extra money alone was worth it, especially now that he had Patty to consider too.

Patty.

His stomach lurched again, reminding him to stay focused on the problem at hand instead of being distracted by his family. During dinner he had to tell his family that he and Patty were going to be married. He knew that the news was going to drive his mother to hysterics, and perhaps a fainting spell when he told them that they planned on January tenth as a wedding date. She'd be sulky for the next few weeks, he knew, and probably even through the wedding, but at least it wouldn't be the catastrophe that Nancy's marriage had been.

"You okay, Victor?"

Victor looked up at his father and nodded, his mouth drawn in a tight line. Robert grinned and shook his head. "Here's to you, little brother," he said, and he raised his wine glass. Halfheartedly, Victor wondered if he was toasting to his health, or whatever intended self-inflicted funeral he knew Victor had planned.

Somehow, he thought it was probably the latter.

Dinner was served at five o'clock sharp in the formal dining room they rarely used. Sylvia had set out the finest china she owned on top of a crisp green tablecloth and had lit two long white candles for atmosphere. It was the same thing she'd been doing at Christmas dinner for as long as Victor could remember, and he stared at the layout dimly, wondering if he should just spit out his news or wait for dessert.

"Potatoes, Victor?" asked his mom, and at the insistence of the beast inside of him, Victor shook his head and decided to bite the bullet before he starved.

"No, Mom, Dad, there's something I need to tell you."

Robert grinned from across the table and set down his knife and fork. "I'm all ears," he said. Victor glared at him.

"What is it, Victor?" asked his mom, helping herself to a slice of ham, oblivious that he was about to say anything life-changing.

"Well," he said, "you both remember Patty, right?"

Sylvia paused mid-cut and stared at her son, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Yes," Ivan answered calmly. "We do."

"Well, we're getting married."

Robert shook his head and turned back to the meat on his plate, picking up his fork and knife and cutting the meat into pieces. Both he and Victor had been fiercely webbed into the middle of Nancy's falling out with their mom, and Robert apparently had no intention of repeating the disaster.

"No you're not," said Sylvia. The words were calm, pleasant, but coated with poison.

"Yes we are," said Victor. "On January tenth."

Sylvia folded her arms and leaned back in her chair, jutting out her lower jaw, just as she always did before getting into a heated argument. Particularly when she was getting in for the long haul.

"Don't you think that's a little soon?" asked Ivan, intercepting whatever remark Sylvia was planning to make.

"No," said Victor. "We're in love, we discussed it, and we're ready. What's the point of a long engagement?"

"Victor," said Ivan softly, "you're only twenty. How can you know what you really want?"

"I just do," said Victor. "I mean, I can feel this all the way down to my bones. I have never been more certain of anything in my entire life. I know this is the right thing to do."

"That girl has poisoned you," said Sylvia. "She's probably been whispering words of marriage into your head from the beginning."

"It wasn't like that at all, Mom," Victor said. "She turned me down the first time I asked."

"Oh, so you're not good enough for her," his mom said, flipping the tables in the blink of an eye. "Does she think she's going to find better? She sounds fickle to me. You can't trust a fickle woman."

"Says the woman who changed her mind in two seconds flat," Robert muttered under his breath. He glanced briefly at Victor and took another bite of his ham.

"Sylvia," said Ivan, "I think you need to calm down and think about this rationally. Fighting is only going to make things worse."

"What do you mean, 'make things worse'?" snapped Victor. "Things weren't bad to begin with. Things were just great." He shook his head and unintentionally, the volume of his voice began to rise. "You people are never happy with anything we do. You never let us make our own choices, right or wrong. And it's going to end up costing you all of your kids."

"Victor Bennett," said Ivan, anger seeping into his voice for the first time. "Don't you dare speak to your mother or me like that."

"Why not?" asked Victor. "You two talk to us like that all the time. Why do you think Nancy left and hasn't come back? She hates this place."

Ivan slammed his silverware onto the table and shakily ran a hand through his thinning hair. "I said," he repeated, his voice low and dangerous, "that's enough. I understand that you may be...upset, but that doesn't give you the right to disrespect us."

Victor stared at his father, forcing his breathing to calm and focus, forcing his next words to come out even. "Then don't disrespect me," he said. "Please. Just come to the wedding. It's going to be at Patty's house. It's going to be very small. Just our families and a couple of friends. All you have to do is wear a smile for a few hours and pretend to be happy for us."

There was silence around the table except for the occasional squeak of Robert's knife across his plate. Finally, Sylvia broke it. "I will not accept this marriage, Victor," she said. "It will not end well, I know it. You'll save yourself a lot of regret if you end it now."

Victor looked at his mother, trying to see her, trying to understand, but he couldn't. He never had been able to.

"I'll send you an invitation anyway," he said, standing up and throwing his napkin down. "You can use it if you change your mind."

Without another word, he stalked out of the house.