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The end of my baseball career has me inside out and upside down and pissy and lost. I don’t like being upside down and pissy and lost, but it’s where I’m at.
And the worst part?
She’s so very, very far fromallof what’s wrong with me today.
“Christmas sucks.” I manage to not snarl it, but just barely. Normal Christmas? Annoying. This Christmas? It’shell.
I have an off-limits woman living in my house, Christmas-ing it up, my career is over, and I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do with the rest of my life. “Clean up when you’re done and try to keep it contained when I’m here.”
She blinks twice, and this time, there’s no patient, make-excuses-for-him Meg coming up with an instant answer.
This time, there’s hurt.
Fuck.
I make another grunting noise and turn to head to my room again.
She doesn’t speak.
She doesn’t follow me.
The oven timer goes off, but I notice she turns down the Christmas music before she shuts off the beeping.
I shove away the guilt building at knowing I’ve just lobbed a flaming shitball at an otherwise happy and easy houseguest, and I stride as fast as I can go down the hall to my bedroom, which also smells like pine trees and sugar cookies.
It’s all tinged with bad childhood memories made worse by the pissy mood I’ve been in for the past six weeks.
Meg’s right.
I need painkillers.
Preferably the kind that’ll put me in a stupor until mid-January.
Shouldn’t have stopped at the ice pack in the kitchen.
I should’ve grabbed the whiskey too.
MEG O’CONNELL, AKA A NORMALLY CHEERFUL SOUL TRYING HARD TO NOT LET THE SADNESS TAKE OVER THIS HOLIDAY SEASON
I’m streamingElfon my laptop with my headphones on in the dark on the couch in the living room, mindlessly crocheting a baby blanket for the Berger quadruplets. I’m also wishing my brother wasn’t spending the holidays exploring the Australian Outback and my parents weren’t on a six-month retirement cruise around the world, no matter how happy I am for them to have these opportunities.
And now I’m freezing as I sense movement by the kitchen.
Trevor’s out of his room.
For the most part, he’s been really great. And I see him so little and make such an effort to always clean up after myself outside of my room that I was hoping I wasn’t being an inconvenient houseguest.
Especially since he’s always been one of my favorites of my brother’s friends.
Clearly, I was wrong.
I’m debating if I should pause my movie and say something to him, or sit here in the dark with my face illuminated by my laptop screen.
Dark.
Definitely sit here in the dark.
Be invisible.
