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I had to break up with my boyfriend on Christmas Eve. I'm sure you'll agree when you hear the story.
That Christmas Eve, I was excited to visit my new boyfriend Jack’s parents. I had grown attached to Jack in the few months we had been dating, and his parents, whom I had met once before, seemed gentle, kind, somewhat sad from the tragedy of losing their other child, a daughter, a few years ago to cancer. But perhaps I only thought this because Jack had mentioned his deceased sister a few times in passing.
Jack had bought me a new dress for Christmas. Odd, I thought, but then perhaps I had watched *Vertigo* too many times and saw too much about gender and feminism online. It was beautiful, with an unusual dark green and red pattern which perfectly brought out the highlights of my chestnut hair. Jack’s eyes lit up when he saw me twirling around in it, and he said he couldn’t wait for his parents to see me.
We entered their suburban home, and Jack helped me take off my winter coat while his parents made polite noises at us- which were cut short when they laid eyes on me. His mother’s eyes welled up, and clapping her hand to her mouth, she left the hallway.
I looked up at Jack. He was smiling. “Mom!” he called.
His father frowned, but then remembered his manners and turned to me. “Come inside my dear- you should have a drink now that you’re here, did Jack never tell you-” his voice trailed off.
I followed his Dad into the brightly-lit living room, and suddenly I understood. For hanging on the wall was a full-length photo-portrait of a young women with Jack’s features and rich chestnut hair, wearing the same beautiful red and green dress I had on.
I turned to Jack angrily- how could he play such a mean trick on us, on me, on his parents? But when I saw his face, my anger turned to fear at the fixed look on his face.
He came up to me and took my hands, looking deeply in my eyes. “Please sweetheart, don’t be mad” he beseeched. “They’re always so sad at Christmas, always going on and on about Lucy. She was their favourite, you know. I thought, you might cheer them up.” His grip tightened and the feelings of fear and confusion deepened. I looked at his parents helplessly. They were seated on the couch, his father’s arms around his mother’s slumping shoulders while she dabbed at her eyes. They looked so frail and ill. What were they thinking? “Please darling, let’s just have dinner. They prepared a real feast for us, all the things you like. Just for a couple of hours.” murmured Jack.
Was it social conditioning, was it survival? My skin crawling, I dumbly nodded. Jack turned to his parents “Mom- Dad, we’re starving- is dinner ready?” he said brightly.
Mom got up, visibly pulling herself together. “We have nibbles in here- Where are your manners John, offer them drinks!” she scolded her husband. Jack’s Dad turned to me. “What would you like my dear?”
Drinks in hand, the atmosphere relaxed, and Jack started chattering - “I love the photos you put up Mom- where did you even find these? This is our last ski trip together right- Lucy was such a champ- do you remember when-” he turned to me mid-flow “Dad won medals in skiing you know, state championships, and Lucy took right after him” His father beamed, and their last vestiges of courtesy towards me gave way to their obvious desire to talk about their daughter. They reminisced enthusiastically about their family vacations, gesturing to what seemed like the hundreds of photos all in glinting silver and gilt frames on the walls. “Of course I could never ski like her” I heard Jack say and “Lucy baked with mom” - “Oh Jack are you still not over it?” his mom responded almost playfully.
My phone vibrated. Discreetly I pulled it out, thanking god that Lucy had had the good sense to wear a dress with pockets. A single work from an unknown sender. “LEAVE.”
“Who is it darling?” called Jack, looking over his shoulder, interrupting himself in a deep analysis of whether he or Lucy were more popular in high school. I shook my head. “It must be spam” I said lightly, smiling at his mom. I looked at the photo over her head, and it was of Lucy, doing some kind of school presentation. She looked directly at me. I felt slightly dizzy- the wine- the powerpoint slide in the photo shimmered and the word was clear “LEAVE.” Lucy seemed to nod.
The voices rose and swirled around me. “I need to use the bathroom” I said.
His mom showed me the guest bathroom, thankfully next to the front door. I went in, and as soon as she left, I slipped out, and opened the door.
“Are you leaving us?” Jack’s father was at the other end of the hallway, looking straight at me. I stared back, opening and closing my mouth.
Suddenly there was huge crash from inside the living room. Glimpsing through I saw the full-length photo of Lucy in dress, fallen to the floor. Distracted, Jack’s father turned, and I heard the startled cries of Jack and his mom.
I didn’t wait any longer. Grabbing my coat, I fled into the night.
#entertainment
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That Christmas Eve, I was excited to visit my new boyfriend Jack’s parents. I had grown attached to Jack in the few months we had been dating, and his parents, whom I had met once before, seemed gentle, kind, somewhat sad from the tragedy of losing their other child, a daughter, a few years ago to cancer. But perhaps I only thought this because Jack had mentioned his deceased sister a few times in passing.
Jack had bought me a new dress for Christmas. Odd, I thought, but then perhaps I had watched *Vertigo* too many times and saw too much about gender and feminism online. It was beautiful, with an unusual dark green and red pattern which perfectly brought out the highlights of my chestnut hair. Jack’s eyes lit up when he saw me twirling around in it, and he said he couldn’t wait for his parents to see me.
We entered their suburban home, and Jack helped me take off my winter coat while his parents made polite noises at us- which were cut short when they laid eyes on me. His mother’s eyes welled up, and clapping her hand to her mouth, she left the hallway.
I looked up at Jack. He was smiling. “Mom!” he called.
His father frowned, but then remembered his manners and turned to me. “Come inside my dear- you should have a drink now that you’re here, did Jack never tell you-” his voice trailed off.
I followed his Dad into the brightly-lit living room, and suddenly I understood. For hanging on the wall was a full-length photo-portrait of a young women with Jack’s features and rich chestnut hair, wearing the same beautiful red and green dress I had on.
I turned to Jack angrily- how could he play such a mean trick on us, on me, on his parents? But when I saw his face, my anger turned to fear at the fixed look on his face.
He came up to me and took my hands, looking deeply in my eyes. “Please sweetheart, don’t be mad” he beseeched. “They’re always so sad at Christmas, always going on and on about Lucy. She was their favourite, you know. I thought, you might cheer them up.” His grip tightened and the feelings of fear and confusion deepened. I looked at his parents helplessly. They were seated on the couch, his father’s arms around his mother’s slumping shoulders while she dabbed at her eyes. They looked so frail and ill. What were they thinking? “Please darling, let’s just have dinner. They prepared a real feast for us, all the things you like. Just for a couple of hours.” murmured Jack.
Was it social conditioning, was it survival? My skin crawling, I dumbly nodded. Jack turned to his parents “Mom- Dad, we’re starving- is dinner ready?” he said brightly.
Mom got up, visibly pulling herself together. “We have nibbles in here- Where are your manners John, offer them drinks!” she scolded her husband. Jack’s Dad turned to me. “What would you like my dear?”
Drinks in hand, the atmosphere relaxed, and Jack started chattering - “I love the photos you put up Mom- where did you even find these? This is our last ski trip together right- Lucy was such a champ- do you remember when-” he turned to me mid-flow “Dad won medals in skiing you know, state championships, and Lucy took right after him” His father beamed, and their last vestiges of courtesy towards me gave way to their obvious desire to talk about their daughter. They reminisced enthusiastically about their family vacations, gesturing to what seemed like the hundreds of photos all in glinting silver and gilt frames on the walls. “Of course I could never ski like her” I heard Jack say and “Lucy baked with mom” - “Oh Jack are you still not over it?” his mom responded almost playfully.
My phone vibrated. Discreetly I pulled it out, thanking god that Lucy had had the good sense to wear a dress with pockets. A single work from an unknown sender. “LEAVE.”
“Who is it darling?” called Jack, looking over his shoulder, interrupting himself in a deep analysis of whether he or Lucy were more popular in high school. I shook my head. “It must be spam” I said lightly, smiling at his mom. I looked at the photo over her head, and it was of Lucy, doing some kind of school presentation. She looked directly at me. I felt slightly dizzy- the wine- the powerpoint slide in the photo shimmered and the word was clear “LEAVE.” Lucy seemed to nod.
The voices rose and swirled around me. “I need to use the bathroom” I said.
His mom showed me the guest bathroom, thankfully next to the front door. I went in, and as soon as she left, I slipped out, and opened the door.
“Are you leaving us?” Jack’s father was at the other end of the hallway, looking straight at me. I stared back, opening and closing my mouth.
Suddenly there was huge crash from inside the living room. Glimpsing through I saw the full-length photo of Lucy in dress, fallen to the floor. Distracted, Jack’s father turned, and I heard the startled cries of Jack and his mom.
I didn’t wait any longer. Grabbing my coat, I fled into the night.
#entertainment
source
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