Traditions (Chapter 3)

Chapter Three

There is something comforting about having traditions in our lives, I have to admit. Something about them that gives structure to our lives. Stability. Especially when we find ourselves facing the most challenging of times.

Even the small things help out. Take the Christmas tradition that Charlie and I have shared for the past few years . . . just a few stolen moments, alone, watching the world from afar. Watching the twinkling lights of our small town far below us as we cling to each other in the darkness of a warm summer night. The steady progress of a ship out to sea, its lights tracking a slow path over the dark and distant water. It gives us time to breathe. It gives us time to escape whatever might be worrying us, and just be ourselves, share an intimate moment, explore boundaries without having to worry about what anyone else might be thinking.

Then there are the bigger things that become traditions, like Christmas itself, and all that accompanies this season. Holidays, family, midnight mass, feasts, gifts. It marks the end of one year, with a new year hovering on the horizon. It gives us a chance to reset. To reflect on what has been, as well as what lies ahead. New adventures. New challenges. New ways of doing things.

Out with the old, and in with the new, and all that stuff.

Home. It’s not quite what I had expected it would be when I returned to the town of my youth; down on my luck, having just been retrenched from my job in the city, only to find the best friend I’d ever known in a state of despair, with his mother having recently passed.

I now had fences to mend, thanks to my having left town in the first place, but coupled with this was my needing to deal with a grieving friend who had felt abandoned by everyone whom he had ever loved. Of course, the whole scenario wasn’t made any easier by our history, and the fact that at times we had been more than just friends. Add to the mix my father, who had difficulty in accepting my sexuality, and it was plain to see there was a whole lot of pain on a whole lot of levels that needed to be dealt with.

The first night we spent together, knowing we were now going to be together as more than just friends, was the night before Christmas Eve.

That was also the first night that Charlie and I had ever slept in the same bed. Even when we’d had sleepovers as kids we’d never done that. There were no great fireworks this first night; we were just two young lovers reuniting, fumbling together, still learning from each other, and comforting each other.

When I woke the following morning, wondering just where I was for a few moments, before tilting my head sideways and seeing the smiling face of Charlie greeting me, I knew then that my life had changed forever.

‘Good morning,’ he said quietly.

‘Good morning,’ I replied, as I rolled onto my side to better face him.

‘Is this really happening, then?’

‘Is it what you want to happen?’

‘I’ve wanted it for a long time, if you must know.’

‘Me too.’

‘But we were both too fucking dumb to say it!’

‘We’re past that now, though. So I guess we’ve got some catching up to do?’ I suggested.

‘I guess we do,’ Charlie replied, before leaning forward and kissing me.

It would be almost lunch time before we left Charlie’s bed. There had still been no fireworks – I was doing my best to try and save those for later in the day, hopefully for the time when we would visit our favourite place in the mountains, as we always did on Christmas Eve – but we still made the most of trying to start that catching up process we had spoken about earlier.

After showering together and pulling on some clean clothes – I had borrowed some underwear and a t-shirt from Charlie – we drove around to my family’s home to see how preparations for Christmas were progressing. No sooner than had we closed the car doors, Toby came racing out to greet us, hugging me first, before turning his attention to Charlie.

‘Charlie’s not sad any more,’ Toby said to me.

‘No, mate. I don’t think he is,’ I answered, as I looked at my now boyfriend and noticed the look of surprise on his face.

‘I’m happy about that,’ Toby said, before then swamping Charlie with a bear hug, that soon had them both rocking back and forth with laughter.

It was into this scene that my mother arrived, coming to the front door to see what all the commotion was. I watched her as she stopped and leaned against the door frame, her arms folded in front of her. She looked at Toby and Charlie, then glanced my way, soon smiling when she noticed me looking at her. Quickly, I went to her and hugged her.

‘You two are just in time to help in the kitchen,’ she said to me.

‘Can’t we at least have some lunch first?’

‘Of course. I was just about to make some sandwiches,’ she answered. ‘But first there’s something else I need to do,’ she added, before breaking away from my embrace and turning to Charlie and going to him, then wrapping him up in another hug.

For a moment he looked horrified, but then he seemed to remember that he had known my mother for just as long as he had known me, and eventually returned the hug.

‘I’m so sorry, Charlie,’ was all she said to him.

When they separated I noticed Charlie wipe away a tear, before saying, ‘Thank you.’

‘I want you to know that I’m so happy that the two of you have finally worked things out. I always hoped that you would,’ mum said, before reaching out one arm and beckoning me to them, then wrapping us both up in a hug.

‘Hey, what about me?’ we soon heard, as Toby came and joined us.

When we finally separated, Charlie looked from my mother, to me, then back again.

‘W-what did you mean by saying you always hoped we would?’ he asked. ‘D-did you know? Did my mum know?’

‘Oh, Charlie. Mothers almost always know. And I also want you to know that you will always be welcome here. It looks like you’re going to a part of our family now,’ mum replied, before giving him a kiss on the cheek, then glancing sideways at me.

The awkward moment was broken, however, as Toby asked when we were having lunch.

‘Right now, Tobes,’ mum answered him, before then breaking free of us and dragging Toby with her towards the front door.

Charlie and I could only watch as they disappeared inside, then once they were gone he turned to me, his face showing shock.

‘Did you know that she knew about us?’

‘I only found out yesterday,’ I replied. ‘Shocked the hell out of me if you must know.’

Charlie didn’t say anything to that. He looked away, somewhere off down the street I thought, as he seemed to be mulling something over.

‘Are you okay, Cha-cha?’ I asked him, while at the same time placing a hand on his shoulder and then gently rubbing his back. He turned back to face me, offering an odd little smile as he did so.

‘I’m fine. I just . . . I was just wondering if mum might have known, that’s all.’

‘I don’t know if our mothers spoke very much, but how about we ask my mum when we get the chance? If they did bump into each other in the shops, or whatever, maybe they might have talked to each other about . . .’

‘About us, huh? That’d be kind of weird, wouldn’t it?’

‘Yeah, I reckon it would be,’ I replied. ‘C’mon. How about we go inside and grab some lunch. If the opportunity arises we can quiz her some more.’

‘Okay,’ he replied.

We didn’t get a chance to talk to mum about it over lunch, and then she put us both to work straight afterwards, helping to prepare things for tomorrow’s Christmas day lunch, as we were having family visiting. At the same time she was organising for us both to attend Midnight Mass with her and Toby tonight, which was a tradition that could not be broken apparently. Of course, that tradition never applied to my father. I can’t remember him ever having attended with us.

‘There’s something we need to do ourselves after dinner tonight,’ I said to her, as I pulled a tray from the oven with two golden, roast chickens on it, then set it down on the sink. ‘But we’ll meet you at the church. Is Father Costas still here?’

‘Oh, yes. He often asks about you. He likes to keep track of what happens in the lives of his altar boys.’

Okay, so yeah. I was an altar boy . . . but only for a very short time, when I was about twelve. And before your minds dive into the gutter, the answer is no! There was nothing untoward about Father Costas. He was one of the good guys – at least as far as Catholic priests go. Instead, it was some of the townsfolk we needed to be wary of around here, but that’s another story altogether. Probably a whole series of stories if you must know.

For the remainder of the afternoon we helped with the preparation of tomorrow’s feast, with meats to be cooked and desserts and salads to be created, the dining room to have a table extension added to the dining table and extra chairs brought in from the garage. Then there were the table decorations to add, along with the "good" china, cutlery and glassware to be brought out and washed in readiness for the big day.

‘How many people are coming?’ Charlie whispered, once everything had been done and we could take a step back to admire it all. It looked like we were preparing for an invasion.

‘All together . . . there will be twelve,’ mum answered as she came to a halt beside us. ‘The five of us, counting you, of course, Charlie. Then there will be my parents, along with my sister and her family.’

‘Oh, wow. I-I don’t think we ever had a Christmas with so many people. It was usually just my mum and me . . .’

‘Oh, Charlie!’ mum said, as she quickly went to him and hugged him close once more. ‘From now on you had better get used to these kinds of gatherings in this house. I’ll warn you though . . . we sometimes do tend to overdo things . . . just giving you a heads up! And I’m sure there will be plenty of food left over for you two boys to take back with you.’

Charlie gave a little laugh, but I could see by the expression on his face as he glanced my way, that he was concerned about what was coming.

For as long as I had known him – which had been since Primary school – Charlie had never spoken very much about his family life, or about his father. I had seen his entire life first hand, of course, with an absent father and a mother who worked hard to provide for the two of them, but we rarely spoke of anything about his home life.

Once, I remember him telling me that his father was a Thompsonville local, who had pissed off the moment he had found out that his seventeen-year-old girlfriend was pregnant, leaving Charlie and his mum to fend for themselves, even if they did continue to live with Claire’s parents.

Chances were his father was probably a Thompson, as that family had something a reputation around town as being horny pricks who didn’t care who they fucked or what the consequences were, but I would only be guessing about that. I didn’t even know if Charlie was aware of his father’s name, and if he did know, then it would be entirely up to him if he wanted to find out anything more about the prick who sired him and then bolted.

As for Charlie’s mother, I can categorically say that she always did her very best to raise and provide for her son, working full time in the local bakery, as well as taking on other jobs when needed. Growing up, I couldn’t help but admire her for the way she always managed to provide for herself and her son, but I guess it stands to reason that Christmas time was almost always a struggle for them.

In a way, I also had to admit that I envied the relationship that Charlie had with his mother, especially the closeness of that relationship, given that over the years my relationship with my own mother had always seemed somewhat distant. Mum had always seemed to be preoccupied with her social life, or with her youngest child, Toby, while leaving me to my own devices. Perhaps, in some strange way, it was because I had become so independent as I grew up and she didn’t need to really be a hands-on type of mother, this allowed her the freedom to indulge in her own adventures? Who could possibly know, but I do think it’s fair to say that my mother and I weren’t that close during my teen years.

Lately however, at least since my return, things looked to have turned a corner. Mum was finally showing me, and Charlie as well, a loving side that seemed to have previously only be reserved for my kid brother, and I was loving it.

After hugging Charlie and then letting him go, she turned her attention back to the dining room setting, casting a critical eye over everything, adjusting a few things here and there as Charlie and I looked on in amusement.

While she was still doing this I felt Charlie touch my arm and I turned to look at him.

‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ he quietly said, before cocking a thumb towards the hallway, where the bathroom was.

‘Okay. I’ll still be here when you get back,’ I replied, before I watched him leave. ‘Everything to your satisfaction?’ I asked my mother.

‘Oh, honey. Everything is perfect. And now I think we all deserve a drink,’ she answered, before heading through to the kitchen.

‘We’ll just have a Coke,’ I said, as I followed her.

‘What? You are allowed something else if you want it,’ she replied.

‘Yeah, I know . . . but . . .’

‘Oh, I see,’ she replied, while pulling some glasses from the cabinet. ‘So, is Charlie okay after the events of the last few days? And where did he get to now?’

‘He’s just down the hall. And yes, everything is fine after what happened.’

‘Oh, right. That’s good to hear.’

I was leaning back against the kitchen sink watching her as she set about filling the glasses now set up on the table.

‘While Charlie’s not here, can I ask you something?’ I said quietly, but not before glancing down the hall to make sure the coast was clear.

‘Of course, Kieran. Anything.’

‘It’s about . . . Claire,’ I said. ‘Did you and her ever talk? I mean, I know you weren’t exactly close friends or anything like that, but did you sometimes bump into each other and talk about more than just the weather, or the price of bread in the bakery? And please don’t think I’m having a go at you or anything like that, but you at least had the two of us in common, so did you ever discuss me and Charlie, or anything else?’

Mum looked shocked for just a moment, which I guess she was entitled to be, but then she finished pouring herself a wine and smiled at me.

‘Oh, darling,’ she said to me quietly. ‘I know it may have looked like we weren’t exactly friends, but the truth is we did talk, and probably more often than you would imagine. It’s just . . . I don’t know . . . we just moved in different circles, that’s all. And yes, we often talked about the two of you, if you must know. We could both see your friendship and what you meant to each other, but we agreed that you guys needed to figure things out for yourselves, without having a pair of meddling mothers sticking their noses in where they weren’t needed.’

I picked up the glass of Coke she had poured me and took a sip as I contemplated what had been said.

‘So, you both knew about me and Charlie, but never said anything?’

‘Well, I can’t exactly vouch for whether Claire ever said anything, but yes, I was pretty sure she also knew about the two of you. I’ve never said a word to anyone though, not even your father . . . well, at least until the other night. As I’ve already said, you guys needed to work things out for yourselves, and if things ever went to the next level, then that was your business and nobody else’s.’

Just then we heard the sound of the toilet flushing and then the water being turned on in the bathroom.

‘Thank you,’ I said to her. ‘When the time is right, would you tell that to Charlie for me? I think he would like to know.’

‘So they never spoke of it either?’

‘No. I don’t think so. And I think it feels like her knowing about us is something that was important to him, but he never got the chance to tell her. Maybe if she said something about already knowing about us . . .’

‘Well, I’ll see what I can do,’ mum answered, just as we heard Charlie coming down the hall to join us once more. I picked up the glass that had been poured for him and handed it to him.

‘Thank you,’ he said to me.

It was while we were still in the kitchen that my father arrived home early from his work and came through the back door. When he noticed Charlie he stopped short for just a moment as they looked at each other.

‘Charlie! It’s good to see you,’ my father said to him, before stepping over and offering his hand.

‘Thank you, sir,’ Charlie replied. Their relationship had always been quite straight, almost formal, which I think was in part due to the fact that Charlie didn’t exactly have a father figure in his life and he wasn’t always sure about how to react. He was always very careful, perhaps cautious, around my father.

‘And I was so sorry to hear about your mother,’ my father added.

‘Thank you.’

‘So, I hear we will be seeing more of you,’ dad said to him, before glancing my way.

‘Is . . . errr . . . that a problem, sir?’

‘What? Oh, absolutely not, Charlie! You have always been welcome here, and you always will be. You and Kieran are obviously, well, sorting things out, and I’m happy to see that. I truly am.’

I looked at mum, then at Charlie, then my father, while I started wondering just what was going on here.

‘Dad?’ I ventured, with a note of caution in my voice.

‘What? Oh, don’t worry yourself, Kieran. I know I may have been a bit concerned about the two of you at first, but I’ve had some time to think about it now . . .’

‘Concerned? You said you didn’t have a problem with us,’ I said, and possibly with a little more venom than was deserved. Dad looked at me and frowned slightly.

‘And I don’t!’ he replied. ‘It has just taken me a little while to get my head around things, that’s all . . . so if sometimes your old dad happens to say the wrong thing over the next couple of days, or generally puts his foot in it, please know that it’s not coming from a dark place . . . I’m still learning here as well, you know. Now if you’ll all excuse me, I think I’ll just make myself scarce, until dinner is ready.’

We all watched as dad left the kitchen, but when he had gone and I turned to look at Charlie I could see his face appeared ashen. Quickly I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him, not caring in the slightest just who might see us.

‘Don’t worry about him,’ I whispered to Charlie. ‘He’ll be fine, I’m sure. This is going to be a learning experience for all of us, believe me.’

Despite the prospect of our Christmas Eve dinner, the first with Charlie in attendance as a part of the family, possibly becoming an awkward affair it went surprisingly well.

Mum was still insisting on her Christmas traditions being stuck to, of course, and that began with us saying grace at the start of the meal. Hell, we never did that any other day, or for any other meal, but she reminded us that it was Christmas and there were some things that just had to happen. She could be a stickler for tradition sometimes, my mum. Midnight Mass, in about six hours time, would be the next of those. And then there would be all of tomorrow to face, which both excited me and scared me. I mean, who doesn’t get excited by Christmas?

Charlie and I helped clear the table after our meal, which proved to be roast chicken and vegetables – one of those I had pulled from the oven earlier – which, given we would be eating salad for the next few days, was most welcome. It wasn’t long, however, before we were hunted from the kitchen by my mother.

‘Toby and I can load the dishwasher,’ my mother told us. ‘You’ve done a lot today, for which I am grateful. Why don’t you boys go and relax for a while, before we go to mass later?’

‘You sure?’ I asked.

‘Of course,’ my mother replied, while giving me a kiss on the cheek as she passed me and walked to the refrigerator, from which she pulled out two cans of soft drink and handed them to us. ‘Why don’t the two of you head outside. We might even come and join you shortly, unless you have other plans.’

‘Well, we were going to go for a drive in a little while,’ I offered.

‘Anywhere special?’ my mother asked.

‘Just up to the mountainside lookout. A chance to just get away from all the Christmas rush, before the madness starts.’

‘That sounds like a good idea, but can you hold off for a bit . . . I think you dad might want to have a quiet chat with the two of you.’

‘He what?’

‘Don’t panic. It’s nothing to worry about. He just wants to make sure you are both doing okay . . . so how about you just cut him a little slack. He really is trying, you know.’

‘I know, mum.’

At that she gave us a nod, then whooshed us outside into the descending twilight.

As we crossed the yard and found a seat on the garden bench near our barbeque, I glanced at Charlie and noticed the worried expression on his face.

‘He’s not that bad, mate,’ I said, trying to reassure him. ‘I don’t think there’s anything for us to worry about.’

He took a sip from his can of soft drink and then leaned back on the bench, gazing up into the colourful sky.

‘It just feels . . . strange, you know? I mean, I’ve known your parents for as long as I’ve known you . . . they’ve always been around when we’ve been together, but now it’s almost like . . . I don’t know . . . like they’re becoming my parents too, in a way . . . and I feel like a little kid again, having to learn all over again not to mess up. It just feels a bit overwhelming.’

‘They both love you in their own way. I’m sure of that.’

‘You think so?’

‘Yeah, I do. Mum might have been a bit aloof over the years, but after what has happened lately she has snapped out of that state of mind, or whatever it was she has been in these past few years. And while dad might appear to be struggling, I think mum might be right. I think he’s coming around.’

‘About us, you mean?’

‘Yeah.’

Just at that moment we heard the back door on the house bang shut and looked up to see my father coming our way, with a beer in his hand.

‘Here goes,’ I whispered, as I reached across and took his hand in mine. There was no attempt to pull away, so I took that as being a good sign.

We watched as dad walked towards us, his gaze fixed on us, but then focusing on our intertwined hands. He stopped and looked down for a moment, before taking a seat on the other bench.

The evening was beginning to cool off, and as darkness began to descend the sounds of the night began to fill the air . . . insects chirping, the surf rolling in to the nearby beach, the light traffic around town, dogs barking someplace, and the muted sound of music being played somewhere else.

Dad took a sip from his beer, then looked across at us. A smile seemed to come to his lips, but it was difficult to imagine what he might be thinking.

‘So, that went well, I thought,’ dad said. ‘That was a lovely meal, which your mum said you both helped with. Thank you for that. At least it wasn’t ham and salad, like we’ll be getting for the next week.’

‘Yeah. It was nice . . . and I guess, after tomorrow, it’s that time of year for leftovers. We should be used to it by now.’

‘Hmmm . . . I guess you’re right there. And speaking of getting used to things, like I said earlier inside, please don’t think too harshly of me if I put my foot in it over the next few days.’

‘We won’t,’ I replied.

‘I can see you do care about each other a great deal. I guess it’s not quite what I imagined I would be seeing when you got to this age, Kieran . . . not that I really had anything in mind. And I’m not sure what your grandparents and other relatives might think or say tomorrow, so I just thought you might need to keep that in mind for when they get here.’

‘It’s okay, dad. I guess Charlie and I are kind of getting used to the whole thing ourselves. We’ll be careful,’ I replied, while glancing Charlie’s way to see what his reaction might be. He smiled at me and gave a little nod, which was a relief.

‘And what about you, Charlie?’ dad continued. ‘How are you doing after, well, after losing your mum? I don’t mean to pry, but if there’s anything at all that you need help with, you only have to ask. I’d be happy to talk to lawyers or anyone like that if you need some help . . . I know it’s never easy dealing with everything that happens after losing a loved one.’

‘Th-thank you,’ Charlie replied. ‘I would appreciate that. I’ve spoken with the lawyers, but found it hard to understand all their mumbo-jumbo, so maybe some help might be good. They want to talk to me again in the new year.’

‘Only too glad to help out, son. Let’s talk about it after Christmas is out of the way, eh?’

Son? Did I just hear that right? My father actually called Charlie, son?

‘Thank you,’ Charlie replied, as I gave his hand a gentle squeeze, which didn’t go unnoticed by my father.

After that, things seemed to go quiet for a while, as we all finished our drinks, lost in our own thoughts. Eventually it was my father who broke the silence, when he mentioned that mum had told him we were planning on going for a drive.

‘Anything special planned?’ he asked, before getting to his feet.

‘Not really. Just sharing a bit of quiet time and watching the world go by,’ I answered.

‘Well, don’t forget your mother wants to see you at Midnight Mass!’

‘Like I would ever be allowed to forget that?’ I replied. For a moment my father smiled down at us, before giving us a nod, and then starting the short walk back to the house.

I watched his back as he took a few steps, his outline appearing different somehow. It took a moment, but then I realised what it was; he was walking with his shoulders slumped slightly, and with his back stooped. It was almost like he had accepted defeat, or resigned himself to something happening that he never saw coming.

Then came the next realisation. I was the cause of that.

‘Merry Christmas, dad,’ I called out to him.

He stopped and looked back at us, as I got to my feet and walked over to him, then briefly hugged him.

‘Merry Christmas, son. And to you as well, Charlie,’ he said to us.

‘We’ll see you in the morning,’ I added, just as Charlie joined us. ‘We’ll be around for breakfast.’

‘Alright then. You boys have a good night, and we’ll see you tomorrow.’

It was a clear summer night when we drove up to the lookout a short time later, along the winding and narrow road that led to small car park about half way up, atop a ridge that protruded from the mountainside. The first time we came here a number of years ago, which began our new Christmas Eve tradition, we had hiked along a trail that wound through a forest, before climbing a few steep sections in order to reach our destination. Things are so much easier now we are able to drive, though sometimes I think it would be nice to relive that earlier adventure and hike our way to the top once more.

Perhaps we’ll one day manage to do that again.

I drove across the car park and stopped, facing a sturdy wooden fence, then cut the engine. When the sound of the engine subsided the darkness and the quiet of the evening took over, settling upon us like a blanket, while above us the moonless sky was filled with a million pin pricks of light. For a few moments we just sat there in silence, looking out towards the twinkling lights of the town below us.

Charlie reached across and took hold of my hand and just held it between us. Nothing was said. There was nothing that needed to be said. This was our time and the world around us was fading into the darkness. Nothing else mattered but our right here and right now.

Outside of our car, the night was coming alive, with the sounds of insects and birds filling the air. Sound was also travelling up from the town below us, with vehicles to be heard, along with the soft sound of music, most likely coming from the pub, being heard in short bursts as it was carried on the breeze up the side of the mountain to where we sat, and from there to the peak, before becoming lost to the darkness beyond.

‘It’s so nice up here, don’t you think?’ Charlie said softly after we had been sitting there for a few minutes.

‘It sure is.’

‘First time I came here I think I was about seven years old. Mum brought me here and we had a picnic, sitting at the table at the far end and looking down at the town and the lake and the sea, stretching out for as far as we could see . . .’

‘I don’t think too much has changed since then,’ I replied.

‘Except for . . .’ he started to say, but quickly stopped.

‘I know, mate. I know,’ I said, as I squeezed his hand. ‘She always did her very best for you, I’m sure of that.’

‘Yes, she did.’

Silence stretched out for a few moments and my thoughts drifted to happier times for my boyfriend, before finally a single sob snapped me back to the present.

In an instant I pulled Charlie to me and hugged him tight.

‘I m-miss her s-so f-fucking m-much, Kieran,’ he sobbed, with his face buried into the crook of my neck.

‘I know, babe. I know,’ was all I seemed to be able to say.

To be continued...