Sabin is dripping water all over the floor and toweling off while looking snarly, and Estelle and Eric excuse themselves to go get changed.
I meet my brother’s eyes and silently beg him for help. Sabin has always responded well to him.
James nods and approaches Sabin. “Dude, let’s tank up on caffeine and warm up. That water was fierce, huh? I’m glad we went in though. That was a great idea. Refreshing.” He claps a hand on Sabin’s shoulder, I think, in an effort to ground him or get him to ease up.
“Yeah,” Sabin says reluctantly. “Yeah, sure.”
Sabin starts to step past me with an uncharacteristic coldness in his eyes, but then he stops in front of me. He reaches out to touch my necklace, and then he lets out a callous laugh. “Oh God, really? You two still harping on that?” He drops the sea urchin back against my chest and walks toward the kitchen area, waving his hands in the air. “Ain’t nothin’ going to top that shit, huh?” His tone is filled with a nasty ridicule that I’ve not heard from him in years, and he saunters to the kitchen island with a level of casualness that infuriates me. “The great love affair to beat all others. You guys are just thatfuckingepic, aren’t you?”
Chris lifts the teakettle and slams it hard onto the burner. “That’s about enough.” Now, he’s angry. Now, he’s working to control himself. “I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you all of a sudden, but get it together.”
Sabin opens a container of mixed nuts and pours some into his hand before he starts tossing them up in the air and catching them in his mouth. “I’m just saying, these displays are all a bit much. Not to mention, you get off on throwing your money around.” He frenetically gestures around. “This house? Not exactly necessary. And God knows what you paid for the jewelry.”
James grabs his arm and tries to pull him away, but Sabin shakes him off hard, harder than Chris would like. He strides forward while I beckon James to come near me. There are certain family dynamics that I know to stay out of. I’m not sure what is happening here, but I keep my mouth shut, and I want James to do the same.
“You and your fucking money, Chris,” Sabin continues. “And always the martyr, never spending shit on yourself. Making the big sacrifices, so you can look like some fucking hero who swooped in and spoiled us all. Like we’re supposed to be grateful that you know how to use a credit card.”
There is a fury emanating from Chris that I’ve never seen, and I’m terrified he’s going to blow.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he speaks with a measured voice that scares me more than if he’d simply lashed out and punched Sabin across the face, “I think you should go. Now.”
“Fine by me.” Sabin tosses another nut, and it bounces off his mouth when he tries to catch it.
Chris grabs the container and hurls it across the room. “Now.”
“Whatever you want, Christopher. I didn’t ask to stay here, and I certainly didn’t ask for everyone to come and invade my life here. A little fucking space isn’t a bad thing. Jesus. What? You guys can’t function unless we’re all glued together at the hip?” He grabs his wallet from the counter and walks out the door.
Chris puts a hand on the counter and looks down. James touches my back and guides me to the table so that I can sit. I’m not sure I would have been able to walk there on my own.
The three of us listen to the roar of Sabin’s motorcycle as he takes off.
“What…what just happened?” The break in my voice tells me that I’m on the verge of crying, but I can hardly allow myself to feel anything through the shock. “I don’t even know who that was.”
Finally, Chris looks at me. “Welcome to the Shepherd Family Christmas.”
It’s after eleven on Christmas night, and I’m curled up on the couch, staring at the tree, with my phone in my hand. I’ve been calling and texting Sabin for hours with no response. Since drawing out this day held less than no appeal, everyone but Chris and I went to bed a while ago.
Chris comes from behind the kitchen counter with a drink in his hand. Scotch, I’m guessing.
“You sure you don’t want one?” He drops onto the cushion next to me.
“No, thanks.” Maybe getting loaded would help me drown out Sabin’s behavior, but I want to stay clearheaded in case I can make sense of it. Plus, I’m already depressed, and I know from experience that drinking does nothing to lift my mood.
“Blythe, I’m so sorry about today.”
“It’s not your fault.” I haven’t mentioned the details of the morning I first saw Sabin. I’d rather not worry Chris more than necessary.
“I feel like somehow it is. I don’t know exactly what triggered him, but I can say for certain that holidays for us have never been great. You know, the pressure to have perfection when we never had that growing up. I think this whole season is pretty hard on him—less so for Estelle and Eric but still.”
“And you?”
“You make it a lot easier.” He pauses. “More than that. I love seeing you happy. When you get caught up in what to put in the stockings or what would make the perfect breakfast for Christmas morning, I like it. You spread this happy energy around, and it’s infectious—for me, at least. But we are not a family with a good history, Blythe, and you can’t change that.”
“I’m so stupid,” I say. “I actually thought I could cut through that a little. I wanted to—not because we’re supposed to like holidays, but because…I wanted everyone to feel safe and loved. I didn’t do that—at least, not for Sabin.” I pause. “And he’s the one who needs it the most, isn’t he?”
“Yes, he’s the one who needs it the most,” Chris confirms.
This breaks my heart to hear, and I should have understood it sooner.
