A Missed Opportunity

17

✧𝙽𝚘𝚊𝚑✧

I thought the hardest part was over. I hoped the hardest part was over. It went over smoother than I thought it would, so I thought I was off the hook. I figured that was the last of what I had.

And in some ways, it was the hardest part. I love my parents, but I was more worried about my crumbling relationship with my sister than I was with whatever my parents thought. If I'm being completely honest, I can't say I really care what they're going to say. I just have to let them know who the girl and the little boy I'm bringing to Grandma and Grandpa's house is before we actually get there. Even then though, it's sort of more of a curtesy. Just so they can say they knew at the house and not embarrass themselves.

I sort of wish I chose to let them be a little embarrassed though. Maybe this was a bad idea.

I clear my throat awkwardly as I shift in my seat. Meanwhile, they stare at me from their spots across the table in something mixed with confusion, shock, and horror. I guess there was an easier way of saying it, but when we got sat down at the table by the window and Mom smiled and asked what I wanted to talk about, I sort of panicked.

The most I could offer was a quick "I have a son."

There was a better way at that, and I can admit it. I'll get it right next time.

Mom laughs after a long moment of silence, the horror slipping from her face once she's processed my announcement. "Okay..." She slowly accepts. "Your generation and your animals, I swear." She shakes her head and smiles over at Dad. He starts to smile back at her as he decides I meant an animal too. "What's the dog's name?" She hums.

I awkwardly shake my head. "No, I don't have a dog."

My mom frowns at that. "You said you wanted a puppy."

"When I was five." I dryly point out. I got a sister instead. Not as fun.

Dad sighs at that. "What is it then? Another fish?" His nose scrunches. "I thought you learned your lesson with Jeff."

"Jeffery." I quickly correct.

He rolls his eyes. "Jeffery."

"And no, it's not a fish." I huff. "If you let me talk, you'd see that."

Mom scoffs, offended. "We let you talk." She argues. "You just choose not to. You and your sister—every time you just choose not to talk and then get frustrated when we take our turns. You can't do that, Noah. You're a grown man..."

She goes on for a while. I stop listening pretty quickly.

It's not like I have a short attention span or anything—I really don't think I do. It's more like it's hard to pay attention to something that feels like it's never ending, and also about nothing that's really that important. Like this—right now—is not important to me. I don't really care that they like to talk when I take a natural pause in my sentences. At the end of the conversation, I either get what I want out or I decide it's not important anyway.

"Noah. Are you listening to me?"

"No." I sigh tiredly as I look away from the window and at her. "I'm waiting until the talking stick is handed to me."

Dad reaches for the straw the waitress passed onto him and tosses it across the table at me. I perk up and snatch it up. Mom scoffs at the both of us. "That's so immature—"

"Hang on, hang on, who has the talking straw?" I hold it up proudly. She scowls in response. I smile and look down at my trusty straw. "But seriously." I clear my throat and try to make my expression just as serious as I set the straw down on the table. I look up at them and nod. "I have an actual son." I inform. "Like...a human son."