When We Were Young

Christmas in New York...alone.

"Mum, it's not about the money," I argued. I was lying on my couch, two days before Christmas. "I have plenty of money."

"Your father and I haven't seen you in so long." She whimpered and I rolled my eyes.

"I saw you last year." Last June, after I finished my MBA, I went home. I saw Pop for only one day so I cut the trip short. "It's just, I only get a few days off and I really want to relax. I could start studying. You know Pop would rather have me study than coming back to London for a visit."

She grunted because she knew I was right.

"Did you get my packages?"

"Oh Albert. You shouldn't spend so much money on us. We have everything we need as long as you're happy."

"I'm happy," I said, but I didn't know if I believed that at all.

"Well, where will you go on Christmas?"

"Um, Samuel and his wife are having something at their place."

Mum lowered her voice. "You mean his pub? Albert James, you're really going to spend Christmas drinking in a pub?"

I rubbed my hand over my face. It was too early to be arguing. I had been up late with people from work for holiday drinks. I slept until after nine, something I hadn't done in a long time, until my mum called.

"I'm actually going to volunteer at a soup kitchen in the morning and then go to Samuel's." 

The soup kitchen was a total lie but I needed to divert the fact that I would be going to a pub, O'Leary's, for most of the day, and probably drinking. I considered volunteering somewhere but just never got around to signing up.

"What a wonderful thing to do! Albert, that's so good of you to help those poor people." 

I ignored her comment. "Is Pop there?"

"Oh, he's staying in the city tonight to finish up some work so he can actually take the week off."

My father hadn't taken a vacation in years. He was semi-retired but just couldn't walk away from his firm completely.

"Well, tell him I said hello and I'll call on Christmas. Oh, and tell Brandt I said hi." Brandt, who ran the house, was around more than my father and at one point I think I believed he was my father.

"I will, dear. I love you."

"Love you, too, mum" I mumbled and hung up the phone.

I sat there for a long time, just staring into space wondering what the hell I was going to do for the next week. Yes, I was going to Samuel's and I could start studying for the LSATs but I had months before I really needed to pick up a book. Was I really planning on spending almost every day alone?

Most of my friends from grad school went on holiday, or home out of state, or weren't even working in the city after they graduated.

On Christmas Eve, I walked around: Rockefeller Plaza to see the tree, down to the village to the Christmas markets. I even picked up a small tree and threw a couple lights on it to feel a little bit more festive.

The city felt deserted, although it was filled with tourists. I walked over to Central Park and found the ice skating rink that was elusive to me up until then. Couples skated hand in hand, little kids held onto their parents as they slipped and giggled. I sat on the benches, not daring to skate and break a leg, just watching.

I was shivering, for sure. My feet were tingling with frozen heat and my shoulders were up at my ears keeping my scarf in place. It wasn't silent with all the talking and laughing, but it was still quiet. I tried to remember where I had been the year before at that time and I was back in London, visiting friends, avoiding an ex-girlfriend, and being the perfect son that my parents could brag about to their friends.

At that moment, I was happy to be in New York by myself. Although I would have rather have not been so alone. 

Dinner was the Thai place on the corner, and a few beers. I sent some texts to my friends to wish them a happy holiday, scrolling through my contacts to see whom to text next when I came across Isabelle's number.

It had been a long time since we spoke. And the last time there wasn't much speaking, only screaming and crying. In some strange moment of clarity, I deleted her number and went to bed.