This will stay a Thanksgiving one-shot for now as I have too many WIP. But go ahead and follow just in case. The inspiration for this story were some comments I saw for a You-Tube recording of the Simon and Garfunkle song, I Am a Rock. A couple of comments were that viewers were able to cope with abuse by repeating the mantra of "I am a rock, I am an island" and not letting themselves feel any pain. I wondered if this song might help Darcy cope with his mother's death and father falling apart and then dying, too, but then later be counterproductive when Darcy cannot open himself up to the possibility of love with Elizabeth.
Oh, and only Darcy would rebel by listening to 60s folk music; what a nerd, right? In my head, Anne Darcy listened to this music with her Dad growing up. Do yourself a favor and listen to: "Richard Cory" and "I Am A Rock" as it will enhance the experience of this short. Other recommended Simon and Garfunkel songs are: "The Sound of Silence," "Mrs. Robinson," "Scarsborough Fair," "Bridge Over Troubled Water," and "Homeward Bound."
I Am A Rock
Thanksgiving 2012
Sixteen-year old Liam Darcy was holed up in his bedroom. He sported patchy stubble, and overgrown, messy curly hair which was spread upon his pillow in a sort of halo as he reclined diagonally across his quilt-covered his king-size bed. At six feet, two inches, Liam was thin and gangly, with over-sized limbs and likely to grow further. He listened to a Simon and Garfunkle album on his mom's old turntable; the song "Richard Cory" was playing.
A single knock sounded and Liam frowned as his father pushed open the bedroom door without waiting for a reponse. George Darcy stumbled through the door, his eyes glassy, his face flushed. "Time to come down for dinner. I've got everything warmed up."
Liam made no move to get up. He closed his eyes, anticipating the lyrics which came next; the duo sang "Richard Cory came back home and put a bullet in his head" before it returned to the chorus once again.
"Come on. Gigi's waiting."
Liam sighed, sat up and walked over to the record player. He lifted the needle off the record and put the Sounds of Silence back in its well-worn cardboard sleeve.
"Liam, you're too young to be listening to this folk-music crap." His father opined as Liam stiffened. "Listen to some rap or something, whatever kids your age do. You're not gonna find Mom in her old records."
Liam, who was facing away from his father, clenched his jaw. He thought, I am a rock; I don't feel any pain.
In a calm, conversational tone, his face now impassive as he turned back to her father, Liam responded, "You won't find her at the bottom of a bottle, either."
"It's a holiday; I'm allowed to cut loose."
Nothing betrayed Liam's thoughts as
Liam followed his father out of the room. But he caustically thought, Oh yeah, Dad? What's your excuse every other day?
Thanksgiving 2018
Twenty-two-year-old Liam and ten-year-old Gigi sat around the large and well laden rectangular table at the Fitzwilliam home with their Aunt Lena, Uncle Jonathan, and four cousins: Jon (32), Rick (25), and the twins, Kelsey and Chelsea (14). Liam's hair was short and professional, he wore a sweater and even while seated he was noticeably taller and more muscular than everyone else at the table.
Everyone's heads were bowed in prayer, as their aunt finished up. "And thank you, Lord, that although it has been a tough year for us all with the loss of George, that we get to have Liam and Gigi here with us. May we all be blessed with good-health this year. Amen."
Gigi, blonde hair in a ponytail, teared up at the mention of her dead father, and Rick grimaced, but Liam's face was bland. Liam thought, Loss is such a polite term for suicide. What a coward he was, to pull a Richard Cory, duck out early and put all of his responsibilities on me. I don't miss him. I am a rock.
"Thank you, Aunt Lena." Liam commented.
Everyone commenced to pile their plates high with the various dishes which included turkey, ham and duck.
Later, after the parents and the girls were already in bed (Gigi enjoying a sleepover with her older and cooler twin cousins who were indulging her with Disney movies, having previously been given a talk from their mother about how hard of a few months it had been for her), Jon, Rick and Liam hung out, playing pocker and munching chex mix. The center of the card table had a sloppy pile of dollars. Jon and Rick nursed beers; Liam sipped at a water.
"Are you really alright, Liam? Sure you don't want a beer?" Rick asked.
"If that's too strong for you, I think we have some of those wine coolers my mom likes." Jon added, half teasing, half serious.
"I'm good. I'm not going to end up in a bottle like my dad and then take a whole bottle of sleeping pills, and let my son find me in a pool of vomit."
"Ugh, awful." Rick turned compassionate eyes on Liam and patted him sympathetically on the shoulder.
Liam shrugged out from Rick's pat. "It's fine," he said flatly. "At least Gigi didn't find him. That would have messed her up. The man was a waste of space and we're better off without him. I don't know what my mom saw in the guy."
"Hate him if it makes it easier," Rick replied.
"I don't hate him. I don't feel much if anything for him at all. He quit being a really Dad years ago, after my mom died."
"They really loved each other," Jon commented. "My parents used to talk about whether there was something wrong with them, that they didn't love each other as deeply as your parents did."
Rick stared at Jon. "What?" Jon asked, "I was eight when they married. I remember stuff. It's a pity that Aunt Anne got cancer."
Rick called, collected his winnings and shuffled the cards.
"So, do you feel that way about Hayleigh?" Rick asked Jon.
Jon shrugged. "I love her and all, but it is more of a Dad and Mom kind of love, not a George and Anne love story for the ages, complete with a tragic ending. I was happy enough to stay here for Thanksgiving. She wanted me at her mom's but that lady orders her Thanksgiving dinner from a grocery store. It wasn't worth it just to hang out with her. I suppose I'll propose of one these days."
"What about you, Liam? Do you have a girlfriend?"
Liam shook his head. "I'm way too busy with the farm, Gigi and all the rest. I really don't see the point in that kind of a time suck."
"Well, for one, getting some steady tail." Rick started counting on his fingers. "Companionship, support, love."
Liam shrugged. "Tail is good, but I don't need the strings and all the drama."
"That's just cause you don't get how good it can be." Rick commented. He sighed and grinned.
"Jenny?" Liam asked
"Jenny," Jon confirmed. "She broke his heart and he cried for a month, but if she whistled, he'd come running, even now."
"Stupid, so stupid," Liam responded. "I can do without all of that." He thought, I am a rock and a rock never cries.
"Yeah? When you fall it is gonna be hard, Uncle George and Aunt Anne hard. I can't wait to see it." Jon grasped his hands together in mock supplication, eyes heavenward.
"Nope, never gonna happen." Liam replied.
A/N: I'm gonna leave it here. Maybe I'll pick this up next Thanksgiving. Of course we know that Liam Darcy will fall hard, inspite of his best efforts, but his rock-like exterior and the hardening of his heart he has done to spare himself pain will not serve him well. But I'll leave all of that for another day. I hope everyone has had a great Thanksgiving.