This wasn't just any typical Christmas holiday at the McDonald-Venturi home and not just because we had Hockey's Bad Boy staying with us (despite what it might have looked like to someone outside the family).
The real, non-Derek's ego stroking reason, this holiday was special was because my mother had decided (and when I say "decided" I mean "was guilt-tripped into having it at our house by my Nana Susan") to have a family reunion over the holiday.
We had a week to get ready and then it would be four days of "getting back to our roots" and "reconnecting" for the McDonald side of the house.
"Oh Casey, I am just so thankful that you are here to help me with all this. You know how I am about planning and staying organized."
"Not to worry Mom, I already have some rough plans that I drew up back in Toronto, during my free-time."
We were all sitting at dinner and things were actually feeling fairly regular and normal. Derek was across from me with Sally. Edwin was trying to see down Sally's shirt from where he sat on the other side of her.
Marti was sneaking her green beans onto George's plate when he wasn't looking and Lizzie was moving them back just as sneakily.
If I could just forget that Derek and I had ever semi-slept together then the whole thing would feel like it had never happened and we were just one big happy family having a nice meal.
But, unfortunately for me, I did happen to remember that incident in High-Def, full color with surround sound and life-like 3D effects. Make that…Especially unfortunate because every little thing Derek did seemed to have some kind of innuendo in it as far as my hormonal reflexes were concerned.
Three years of eating dinners across from him and I had never noticed the way he sometimes ran one long finger round and round the rim of his glass when he was listening in on the conversation.
Or the way he stabbed at everything with his fork and then sort of cockily tossed it into his mouth simultaneously leveling a squinty-eyed "I'm reading your mind" type of look at me.
Or how he tore chunks of bread off of the loaf instead of cutting them and how that caused the ropey tendons of his wrists to flex all the way up his forearms.
Or how he could get a beautifully tender look of pain on his face and rub at his chest, just over his heart, like something hurt him, when Marti refused to answer his questions because she was still angry at him for leaving.
Sally had piped up at some point in the conversation, "And Derek and I would be happy to help with the reunion too. Just let us know what we can do!"
She directed this at my mom and myself but I was busy—trying not to melt off the chair as I watched her boyfriend lick spaghetti sauce from the edge of his butter knife.
My mom smiled gratefully at the two of them, "I really appreciate it. I can always count on you Sally."
Derek scowled. "I told you to quit doing that," he grumbled at her.
"Doing what?" Sally asked blinking at him.
And I guess I felt a little grateful…I mean guilty…wait, no I don't …I meant grateful… that she was offering to help.
Besides, Mom was right; Sally was a very dependable and responsible person—which was what made me like her in the first place.
I mean, she helped with Marti's tenth birthday party. And she offered to make dinner the very first time she came over.
She 's actually a lot like me… in not just this helpfulness way, but other ways too.
Like: she's a feminist. And she doesn't feel the need to be trendy or follow the crowd. She sticks up for herself. And she actually likes school and gets good grades... And we both volunteer for things. And we both look for the best in people.
Everyone likes people they have a lot in common with, right?
So, you can see why she and I would have been the very good friends that we had always been since the first time I met her.
Just …really…
…good friends, with lots in common… lots of the same values… and same beliefs… and the same attitudes about… things…
Yep. That's me and Sally.
Also…She just fit perfectly into our family too – because we are so much alike (and obviously I fit in with my family since it is, in actuality, MY family)—so in a really fun and sort of uncanny way having Sally around is a lot like having two of me around! Isn't that great?
Like me, only blond!
Like me but with three older brothers so far more adept with maneuvering boys!
Like me but with the ability to actually date my stepbrother instead of just being able to set him up with other girls because (for some inexplicable reason) you thought it might be a nice bonding experience for you to help out your ass of a step-brother (even if it eventually led to his living on the other end of the country after having sort of had sex with you the night before he left). So…
Where was I?
Dinner! Right!
So apparently after he messily ripped a piece of garlic bread off of the loaf, Derek felt the need to lick the garlic butter off of each finger, slowly, really slowly actually, and, also, to pause and smirk at me between fingers. Ass! I hate Derek!
Finally, after cleaning himself like a cat and leaning back to give me another of the squinty-eyed mind reading looks, he decided to actually speak to me for the first time since I'd come home. "You drew up plans for the reunion in your free-time? Same old Casey, no dates, no parties, no life."
Our eyes locked in the old way. The forget everyone else is in the room—that 's right I went there—what 's it to ya—bring it on sort of way.
"I have a life filled with dates and parties, Derek." Suddenly, I was sitting up straight and my cheeks were warming with blood.
In my new life no one fought with me like Derek did. It was like having defibrillator paddles jolting the life back into me.
"Reeeeally?" he drawled.
He'd pushed his plate out of the way and set his palms on the table like he was getting ready to spring over it and onto me.
"Name one person you've actually dated…"
I opened my mouth, but he cut me off with a raised finger, "It has to be someone you weren't set up with… and went out with more than once…"
"Well…maybe there are too many to name…"
The whole family chimed in with a surprised, "Really?"
"Yes, REALLY. As a matter of fact I have a sort of BOYFRIEND in Toronto and he's really smart and cute and studying to be …a doc…a lawyer. Ummm…Sort of a specialist in medical law issues."
"Oh Honey, that's great!"
"What's his name?"
"When can we meet this guy?"
But none of the other voices at the table could break into the intense make your next move glare Derek and I were giving each other. He looked at me with gritted teeth and narrowed eyes—I could tell that he didn't quite trust his intuition to outright call me a liar. He was tasting the air between us: How does Casey usually act when she has a boyfriend? Could that have changed in the five months of silence between us? Is she telling the truth or not?
Oh I KNOW you Derek Venturi—I can read your mind RIGHT BACK if I want to…
It was essential that I not flinch and keep the superior smile glued to my face—even though I was totally dying inside because Derek had NAILED it of course!
I was so busy desiring to excel that I had hardly dated at all, and even the few guys that I HAD dated fell into stupid Derek's doesn't count categories as double date set-ups and one time things at that.
Derek leaned back and folded his arms. He'd come to some kind of conclusion, obviously.
I tried not to squirm. "Can someone please pass the cheese to me?"
"So what IS his name Casey?" Derek countered.
Everyone was waiting for my answer, and no one was passing me the Parmesan, of course . What Derek wants Derek gets.
"I mean," Derek spread his arms wide like I had made some kind of big deal out of it (when it was actually him making the big deal). I'd be happy to let the subject just drop…deep, deep into the hole I was digging.
Derek raised his eyebrows at me, "He's going to need a name once he's a doctor—slash—lawyer , right? What will the patients—slash—criminals call him?"
"Very funny Derek. His name is …oh shit, think, Casey, think…
Troy. His name is Troy. "
Troy?! Damnit! Being home agian brought back all my High School Musical fantasies! And I'm Gabriella ? Oh God ..still the only other name I could think of was Brad Pitt and that was…
"Troy what?" Derek had a smirk and an eyebrow up to match. "What's his last name?"
"Troy…Pitt." Kill me now.
"Like Brad Pitt? Are they related?" Lizzie's eyes looked a little glassy.
"NO. Or at least…not…closely…I think."
Besides Lizzie, the only other person who seemed to be actually buying that Troy, the good-looking doctor-lawyer distantly related to Brad Pitt was my new boyfriend was Sally.
"I'm really happy for you, Casey. When Derek plays in Toronto maybe the four of us can go out."
"Can I have the Parmesan, please?"
Still no one gave me the damn cheese! (But, to be fair, it might have been hard to hear me over the violent coughing fit my step-brother was having to semi-disguise the fact that he was laughing his ass off at me.)
My mom started to stand and gather up dishes. "I just really hope you aren't neglecting your social life, Sweetie," she said to me with a smile.
I guess she didn't notice that I was beet red and trying to disappear into my plate of spaghetti at that moment.
"It seems every time I talk to you, you've taken on a new responsibility: working for the campus paper… traveling with the dance company… auditioning for plays… the English Honor's Society… Canadian Young Lawmakers… volunteering at the Women's Center… working at the coffee shop… "
"Wow Casey!" Sally interrupted the stream of my extra-curricular activities Mom was recounting. "That's impressive!" And she really did seem impressed. Everyone did.
Lizzie beamed, "Wow Sis, you must be the most important person at University of Toronto!"
"… Organizing Committee for Keep Toronto Beautiful Day… U of T Scholastic's Society… Collegiate Poet's Club… " my mom was continuing with the list.
Derek's expression had gone from self-satisfied to puzzled, then to troubled until, finally, his face was soft with pain and he was rubbing at his chest again the way he did when Marti ignored him.
"That's our Casey!" George smiled.
I got a big, "Go Casey!" from Marti.
They were all standing, clearing the table, moving into the kitchen with plates and bowls.
Derek still rubbed at his chest and looked at me.
Did hearing about all my achievements really cause him to be this miserable? Was he that petty that he would actually begrudge my success? God…and here I'd hoped…I mean not hoped…I didn't hope anything…I'd thought ….but I guess I was wrong.
He really hated me, then. Didn't he?
I felt faint. I felt sick. I felt like I was going to cry. "Excuse me." I smiled to throw everyone off, but they were already back to talking about the reunion and fretting about old family feuds and wondering how various relatives might have changed….and….WHO CARES ABOUT ANY OF THAT?
Derek hates me….
I was in my room with the door closed – back on my bed with tears on my face – because of a boy – because of Derek. Well wasn't this turning out to be the complete experience of what it feels like to be HOME. How many times growing up in this house had I…
The door creaked open and I tried to wipe the evidence from my cheeks.
"Casey?"
Derek closed the door behind him and sat next to me on the bed. "Case?" his voice sounded thick. He rubbed at the back of his neck. "This is about me isn't it?"
Yes. It's about you, asshole. You hate me so much that you can't stand to hear my own mother praise me…
"What's about you?" I said cheerily. "I have no idea…"
He ignored my fake cheeriness. "All those things you've been doing, Those clubs and …societies …and stuff. You do that when you're upset. I know you Casey."
"God, Derek. Not everything is about YOU! And, anyway," I added haughtily, "I don't even know what your talking about! …. Did you hear my mom? Did you hear your dad? They're proud of ME. Looks like I'm STILL the good child while you…."
It was below the belt but I felt mean…he'd MADE ME mean…
"You are the Bad Boy of Hockey!" I folded my arms. "You are STILL a disappointment to them."
God! Did I really say that? And the way he's narrowing his eyes at me and sucking in the side of his cheek. Oh he is PISSED…. Yikes…RETREAT! RETREAT! But I can't retreat because this is my room…
He got up in my face to whisper through gritted teeth, "Your mom wasn't saying all that because she's proud of you, Keener-princess, she's worried. "
"No she isn't," I scoffed. But maybe she was? She sounded kinda worried now that I thought about it…
But I didn't like the way he was bearing down on me like I was…some guy on the ice that he'd like to beat the crap out of.
"Anyway Derek, maybe I've taken on a lot of projects this semester but at least I channel my frustrations into productive and worthwhile involvements that benefit not just my scholastic record but also the community around me!" Whew. Try saying that in one breath! I was huffing and puffing, but I was still mad as hell.
"YOU just get in FIGHTS!"
I pushed him hard against his shoulder to try and get some damn breathing room. Does he really need to ALWAYS STAND SO FRIGGIN CLOSE TO ME?
The first push hadn't done a damn thing so I pushed again—harder.
"I thought you said this wasn't about me," he growled.
Damn his lightening fast reflexes…he'd slapped a hand over mine when I'd made contact with his shoulder and had it pinned there. I was stuck.
"It isn't!" I hissed at him.
He yanked me towards him—he was going to try and KISS me!—did he think I was easy or something? He ignored me the last time we went there.
I leaned back away from him. "Ha! I don't think so, Derek." I warned.
He pushed my hand from his shoulder like he'd been stung.
We stared at each other and I saw my own hurt reflected in his eyes.
"Maybe," I sniffed at him, cold and distant. "I've just been homesick and so I've overdone it a little with the commitments because of that—something I'm sure that I'll outgrow—eventually."
Derek sneered and looked me up and down. "Me too, Case." He said even more coldly than what I'd been able to muster. "I'll probably outgrow my homesickness too."
Fine. Be that way. Outgrow you homesickness all you want, Derek.
Go ahead!
"In fact," he continued. "I might be over it right now—being home just doesn't feel quite the same as I remembered—I don't know what I ever saw in home as a matter of fact…"
Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry… "Me too," I choked out.
Derek's face softened.
At least, he didn't look like he wanted to kick my ass anymore – that tense coiled-spring stance I'd come to recognize from watching him on the ice was gone. He reached a hand out and swiped my cheek.
Tears? After all the begging I'd done with myself to keep them at bay! I hate Derek!
Derek pulled me into his arms then. He just stood, hugging me to him.
"I missed you," I whispered to him…because…oh, what the hell…I was already crying …I'd already humiliated myself with the fake boyfriend and my list of accomplishments that he could see right through…
"I missed you too, Case. You have no idea."
TBC