Read Remembering Christmas Online
Authors: Drew Ferguson
Remembering Christmas (26 page)
Uncomfortable, Theo adjusted himself in his seat and caught his reflection in a mirror that hung on the wall beside him. He thought he still looked pretty good. No bags or puffiness under his eyes, smooth skin thanks to an overindulgence in facial products and the occasional microdermabrasion, hair still golden brown, cut short in a trendy, yet classic hairstyle, and of course he had good bone structure. High cheekbones, more rounded than pointy, and a slender, longish face, which he had always felt was the ideal counterpart to Rob's more blunt, square-edged, masculine features.
This time when Theo's chest tightened, he felt his eyes well up too. He shut them tight and tried to shut off his mind, but was unsuccessful; there were too many memories with and without Rob, too many years in which he was the star and too many years in which he had been replaced. Breathing deeply, Theo fought to maintain control of his body if not his mind; he reminded himself it was Christmas Eve, it was really no big deal, everybody gets emotional on this night. Well, maybe not Jews, they probably don't get emotional, to them it's an unimportant evening.
Oh to be Jewish and unemotional,
Theo thought.
Oh wait, is that a slur? Sorry about that.
Theo wasn't overly religious, but still he was of Irish Catholic heritage and didn't think it proper to think borderline racist thoughts on the holiest day of the Christian calendar.
Oh to be Jewish and unemotional,
Theo thought.
Oh wait, is that a slur? Sorry about that.
Theo wasn't overly religious, but still he was of Irish Catholic heritage and didn't think it proper to think borderline racist thoughts on the holiest day of the Christian calendar.
“It's official, I'm losing my mind.”
Luckily the bar was noisy and Rob was concentrating on not spilling their drinks so Theo's comment went unheard. Rob's outstretched palm contained two tumblers filled with ice and an amber-colored liquid. “What happened to my beer?”
“You can't toast the holidays with a beer,” Rob scoffed. Theo took the glasses and placed them on the table. Rob shook his wet hand and a small drop of liquid, water, maybe alcohol, fell onto Theo's knuckle; he didn't wipe it away, but let it glide toward his thumb. When Rob turned to sit and maneuver his carry-on suitcase underneath the table, Theo flicked his tongue in the crevice between his thumb and forefinger and tasted the unmistakable sting of Scotch.
Raising his glass, Rob held it in midair until Theo matched him. He hesitated for a moment and then said, “To old friends.” Rob clinked his tumbler into Theo's, a not-entirely-gentle clink that caused some of the alcohol to tumble over the side of the glass. His lips a weird combination of a smirk and a smile, Rob licked the edge of his glass before taking a swig of Scotch. Self-conscious, Theo couldn't lick the glass or take a swig, his was more of a sip, still he felt enough of the warm, harsh liquid ripple over his tongue before plummeting down his throat to add to the tingling sensation that had erupted in his stomach.
After Rob swallowed he leaned back and smiled. “Merry Christmas, dude.”
Shaking his head, Theo laughed. “Right back at ya . . . dude.”
Raising his glass to his lips, the amber liquid swirling like a mini-whirlpool, Rob said, “So tell me about this Neil guy.”
Stunned, Theo couldn't believe that Rob had been listening when Theo brought up Neil's name before and had kept silent about it all this time. He was also stunned because he wasn't used to hearing the N-word uttered by someone so nonchalantly. All his friends knew that if they were going to ask about Neil, they had to wait for the right moment, they had to allow the conversation to move organically from casual to serious, build up to a point where personal questions were acceptable, not just sit down and start off with a controversial topic. It was like meeting a gynecologist and asking right off if he'd ever performed an abortion or asking an interior designer if he'd ever shopped at Sears, completely unacceptable. It didn't matter that Rob didn't know the rules; he should know better.
This time when Theo took a sip of Scotch it more closely resembled a swig, and he felt not only his stomach, but his whole body grow warm. Was he unnerved talking about Neil in front of Rob or just uneasy addressing the whole homosexual thing? He was unsure; the only thing he was sure about was that he wanted to change the subject. And perhaps since it was the season of granting wishes, his wish was granted. Tired of watching newscasters report about the lack of clement weather, the bartender flipped through channels on the TV that rested precariously over the bar, pausing when he got to a station that was airing a football game. Theo had no idea what teams were playing, if it was a live game or a rebroadcast, but it interested Rob enough for him to turn around and stare at the TV intently for a few seconds as if he was watching something really interesting like
Project Runway
or a rerun of
All About Eve
.
Project Runway
or a rerun of
All About Eve
.
“I can't believe the Raiders might actually make the playoffs!” Rob exclaimed, “They came back from one of the worst seasons ever.”
For a second Theo almost wanted Rob to talk about Neil again. “You make the Raiders sound almost as exciting as Michelle Kwan.”
“Who?” Rob asked.
Unbelievable!
“Oh come on!” Theo screeched. “First you don't know where the Grand Canyon is and now you're going to tell me you don't know Michelle Kwan.”
“Oh come on!” Theo screeched. “First you don't know where the Grand Canyon is and now you're going to tell me you don't know Michelle Kwan.”
Rob thought hard for a moment. “Oh she's that gymnast who lost at the Olympics right?”
Close enough. “Figure skater,” Theo explained. “Most decorated non-gold medal-winning skater in the history of the sport.” Rob was about to say something, but Theo cut him off. “And, yes, figure skating is most definitely a sport.”
Laughing, Rob said, “No, I was going to say sorry about the interruption, I was asking about Neil.”
Back to that again. Theo had no choice: If he wanted to avoid discussing Neil he was going to have to be direct. “No longer interesting,” Theo mumbled, gripping his glass so tightly his fingers were almost as red as his ears. “What I really want to know is what you're doing here on Christmas Eve?”
It was not the most graceful segue, and Theo was pretty certain Rob could figure out that he had stumbled onto tender territory that Theo didn't want to enter, but Rob didn't press the issue, he simply answered Theo's question. “Last minute business trip in Chicago, the only way I could get home tonight was to catch a flight here.”
Another swig, another question. “What kind of business? My mother's spies, the desperate and
old
housewives of New Jersey, failed to obtain that piece of information.”
old
housewives of New Jersey, failed to obtain that piece of information.”
There was that smile again. “Ever hear of CompuRation?”
Theo's brow furrowed. “I can honestly say I have not.”
“It's a software company, pretty big in the industry,” Rob explained. “But if you don't know the tech field intimately, there's no reason you should have heard of it.”
Theo's brow unfurrowed and his green eyes grew wider. No, he had never heard of CompuRation, but once again the past came flooding into the present. “Oh my God, Rob, that's great!” Theo squealed. “You're living your dream.”
Head tilt, shoulder shrug, Rob opened his mouth to speak, but no words emerged.
“You were always playing video games, made me waste hours playing them too,” Theo said. “Those stupid Mario Brothers, and the one, you know, the one with the, uh, gangstas in the ghetto.”
Confused, Rob merely repeated the words in question form, “Gangstas in the ghetto?”
Theo was so excited he didn't even realize he was patting Rob's hand with his fingers to coax his memory. “You know, the one where the kids steal the cars, rough up some hookers, shoot some cops.”
“Grand Theft Auto?”
Slamming his palm on the table, Theo shouted, “That's the one! That game was fun! I know it got a bad rap for being a little violent, but so was Bugs Bunny. I distinctly remember an episode where Bugs retaliated against some policemen that ended in bloodshed.” Theo only stopped talking because he took another sip of Scotch. Rob could tell by the quick way he drank that he wasn't finished talking so he remained silent. “I can't believe you're actually creating your own video games, that's what you always wanted to do.”
Theo was so lost in his own reverie that he didn't notice Rob's smile grow wider while his eyes remained the same. They stared out blankly, looking at Theo's glowing face, but seeing something else, something that was no longer attainable, something that was lost forever. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I don't do anything quite like that,” Rob began. “CompuRation is a mainstream migration company.” When Theo looked at him blankly, he continued, “And once again if you aren't immersed in the tech field there isn't any reason why you should know what that means.”
Before Theo could ask any more obligatory questions and feign excitement over Rob's career, Rob explained that mainstream migration was simply the transference of computer servers, the bulky pieces of hardware that run all of a company's computers and maintain every piece of information they generate, onto software. Rob admitted that it wasn't as exciting as creating video games, but it was essential.
“No, it sounds really, really interesting,” Theo said, then suggested, “kind of like technological downsizing.”
“Yes, exactly,” Rob said, grateful that his friend understood not everything from childhood could be dragged into the adult world. “And what do you do back in Boston?”
“I'm in marketing, VP actually for a company that makes menus.”
“Menus?”
“Yup, just like this one,” Theo said, yanking a small laminated card from its aluminum clip that had been resting on the table. “See all the unique names for these drinks and the fun descriptions and of course the absence of prices?” Rob nodded. “All created by a company like mine.”
Examining the menu, Rob looked at Theo dubiously. “There are really companies devoted to just making menus?”
With an equally dubious expression, Theo replied, “This coming from the man who migrates hardware?”
Laughing, Rob threw up his hands. “Ya got me.” Rob stopped laughing and was genuine when he spoke. “I wasn't making fun, I just never thought there was a science behind making menus. I thought they just appeared, you know?”
Theo understood completely. “A few years ago I was working as an assistant at an advertising company, very glamorous, but very cutthroat, and I realized it wasn't for me.”
“And menu marketing is?”
“Well I didn't even know such a thing existed until I went on the interview,” Theo admitted. “But the pay was good, and they were willing to give me a title that was all nouns, no adjectives, no âAssistant to' somebody, so I took it. That was eight years ago.”
Rob looked like he wanted to say something, but remained motionless, his hands clasped around his glass, staring at Theo more intently than he had since they first bumped into each other. Karen Carpenter was now singing Merry Christmas to her darling, and Theo wasn't sure whether to take this as irony or encouragement. Before he could make a decision, Rob spoke. “I never pictured you taking the safe route.”
That's definitely not how you talk to your darling. “Well I'm not sure if I'd call menu marketing stable, you know, in this economy.”
Shaking his head, but still staring at Theo intently, Rob clarified his statement. “No, eight years. I don't know, that just seems like a long time for someone like you to be in one job.”
“Someone like me?” Theo asked, unsure what point Rob was trying to make. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“Well you're not a family man,” Rob said. “So I just figured you'd jump around from job to job a lot more. I know that's what I'd do if I were you.”
Well you're not me, Rob, so please keep your hypocritical comments to yourself.
Theo wasn't sure what he was feeling, but he knew it wasn't pleasant. He did know, however, that it was time for another drink. “Round two's on me.”
Theo wasn't sure what he was feeling, but he knew it wasn't pleasant. He did know, however, that it was time for another drink. “Round two's on me.”
“Thanks.”
Before Theo's ass hit the chair Rob was apologizing. “I'm sorry, dude, I didn't mean to upset you.”
“You didn't upset me,” Theo lied.
“Yes, I did, and I'm sorry,” Rob said, directly looking at Theo's face, his eyes not darting to the side, his body not squirming in his seat; it was the most heartfelt apology he had ever received. And so he accepted it.
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