Page 41 of You Were Invited
Annie paused and looked stricken, as if she'd said more than she'd wanted to. Let another big secret slip. With a heavy breath and a low voice, she said, "I don't tell many people this... but... My dad is an alcoholic... That’s why I was taking care of him."
Julian stiffened. For a moment, he didn't care about Annie's background, while his mind was paralyzed by his own personal history, his own story.
Even hearing about her experience, so similar to his own, was painful. Did he have the right to keep his experiences to himself? Sure. In that regard, he owed nobody anything. But Annie was perhaps one of the warmest people he’d ever met.I couldn’t even accept her cooking for me, and here she is, bearing her soul…
Drawing a deep breath, he admitted, "I don't tell many people about this either... but my father was one, too, and he got into a fatal accident with my mom..." He gave her a grim smile. "So, I completely get it. It's a real shame growing up like that."
Annie gave him a half-smile. "Robs you of a childhood, doesn't it?"
He nodded.
"And you can't save ‘em from themselves."
Julian nodded.
"Mom couldn't save my dad. She left when I was a teenager… and sorta just started over without us. Travels for work." Annie's eyes suddenly widened and she stared back at him. "I'm sorry about your parents. I didn’t mean to talk over you. It must have been hard to lose ‘em both like that."
Julian cringed, realizing he'd phrased things oddly. "Actually... he's still alive. Serving time. Mom's the one who paid the price."
"Oh! I'm sorry, that's terrible." She looked at her hands for a moment, her pointer finger massaging a knuckle of the other hand. "I could see we might have been heading down the same path— me and Chris... that's his name. My ex. I couldn't live with someone like that anymore. So, I'm done. I’m really sorry about your mom."
"Thank you... Sorry about Chris."
“Thanks.”
"It's tough. That kind of thing makes life hell." In saying this, Julian instantly felt a wave of embarrassment and shame. Anything other than what he’d already let drop was a step too far. He couldn't make himself utter the words ‘I've been there, too, and had to get help because I had no self-control like my father.’ Surely she’d look at him like some kind of monster and steer clear from him. Be a death sentence to what casual friendship they did have.
And for someone who’s going home eventually, that’s all she needs to know,he thought justifyingly.
They were quiet for a bit, and as if she sensed that they needed to change the topic, Annie looked around his cabin. "This place is really nice."
He relaxed. "Thanks. I renovated a lot of it over the winter. Needed to keep my hands busy."
"Really?"
He nodded. He couldn’t help but grin.
Annie perked up and smiled back. "You know what you're supposed to do with new friends, right?"
He shook his head, puzzled.
She leaned forward and lightly tapped him on the leg. "You give them the house tour!"
He chuckled. "People really do that?"
"Sometimes." Annie shrugged. "I-I mean... only if you want to."
sixteen
Julian’s pleasure andsatisfaction were embodied by his home. The only person who he’d welcomed inside had been Rich, and that had been just after he’d moved in. Rich had needed firewood and had used the bathroom. Nobody else had visited.
I can't get into more trouble if I show everything off, right? And it’ll get us chatting about something else.
“Yeah, I’ll show you around.”
After pointing out the modifications to the living area— the flooring, walls, trim—kitchen and bathroom— just more flooring again— he led her upstairs.
It was by far the roughest room. It sorely lacked headspace because of the A-frame shape of the cabin— with two slanting walls centered over his unmade bed, the head of which was crowned with a white portal window. The carpets were worn out, and someone had spilled candle wax on the stained, olive green shag. The last owner had thought it appropriate to brush the raw wood walls with a deep red matte paint. He had a side table and a lamp, but no other furniture besides the bed. Most of his clothes were folded downstairs in the bathroom linen closet. A few days’ worth of items were strewn across the floor.
