Page 36 of Queen of Ruin

BEING A LIBERAL WOULD HAVE BEEN THE WORST

DARREN

Taking a walk along the trail through the woods behind the house seemed like a good idea, but it doesn’t stop me from thinking how my parents had closed everything up for the winter before they left – before that fateful helicopter flight. It’s not just the boat or the cut firewood, but even the pipes outside the house have been covered to prevent freezing. Those are tasks I used to help my father with when I was younger, and although it’s been years since I’ve been here, and countless times I didn’t help him, this time feels worse.

I don’t regret coming here, but I didn’t know how it would make me feel until I did.

“You’re quiet,” Evangeline says while rubbing her hands together to warm them.

“I was just thinking about how I used to help my dad,” I admit, shoving my hands in my pockets.

The thick trees block out most of the sun, making it feel colder than it actually ,is but I wanted to show Evangeline the trail in case she wanted to go for a run during our visit. I plan on celebrating Thanksgiving here and to pack a few things of my parents before heading back to Georgetown.

“Is that something you did often?” she asks.

“Around this time every year, but I stopped coming when I started law school.” I kick at the dirt with the toe of my shoe making an indent through the pine needles. “It was my way of punishing him for making me go in the first place.”

“But you liked law school.”

I shrug. “Yeah, but I was a shit and would never admit that to him.”

She loops her arm through mine as we continue down the path. “He might have already known.”

“You’re probably right. I used to like helping him, so I was only punishing myself really. I think it was the monotony of the task and the quietness in which we did it that made me feel close to him.”

The trail meanders along the lake, and the trees finally open up letting in the sun and raising the temperature, although I kind of like Evangeline huddled up close to me.

“When we were busy pulling in the boat or covering the windows, it seemed as though he wasn’t worried about what I was going to do with my life, and in turn I didn’t have to pretend to care.”

“Surely there were other things you could talk about, things you had in common,” she prods.

“There was more than just my future we disagreed on.” I count on my fingers. “Healthcare reform, student debt, taxes. The worst was my stance on gun control, even though my father was an NRA card carrying Republican,” I laugh.

“The shame you must have brought on your family for being a liberal,” she jokes.

I can’t help but laugh. “I’ve done some pretty questionable things, but being a liberal would have been the worst.”

“What? I’m scandalized,” Evangeline teases, pressing a hand to her heart, and I knock into her playfully.

“My mother came from a long line of Republicans. Her father would have disowned her if she married a liberal,” I explain lightheartedly. “It was bad enough that my father didn’t come from a prominent family.”

“Ah, so that’s where you get your pretentiousness from,” she taunts with amusement in her tone.

“Just remember, only half of my DNA comes from my father, so I’m only half as pretentious,” I jest but we both go silent, and I think it’s the mention of my father in that way – that there is a part of him in me, perhaps the part that she was so enamored with all those years ago. Maybe there is hope for me yet.

“I take it tradition is a big deal in your family?”

“My life was mapped out for me before I was born because of tradition. I may have been at odds with my father over it, but it started generations ago on my mother’s side.”

“I thought you had a close relationship with your mother?”

“Yes, but I’m not ignorant about what old money means, and what being on the wrong side of history looks like.”

She lets out a heavy sigh. “No one ever expected anything of me, except for my grandmother,” she clears her throat. “Putting her in a care home was the hardest decision I ever had to make, and I’ve felt guilty about it every day since, even though it was the right thing to do.” She looks down at her feet as she steps over an exposed root on the trail. “I hated leaving her there, especially when she didn’t understand why she couldn’t stay in her own home anymore.”

“You love your grandmother.”

“Very much.”

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