The Movies Make It Look Easy

Chapter 40

Shannon’s P.O.V:

Every night since we got here, we’d slept together in my bed, and every night that we’d gotten into my bed, we’d lain on either side with around a foot of space between us, only to wake up, limbs intertwined.
This time was different, though.
Neither of us had mentioned the kiss, or even spoken more than a few words to each other since we’d stepped into my room; both of us content to move around in silence, never touching, but always...aware.
As soon as we got into bed, I think we both knew that things had changed, just by the simple fact that Nick wrapped himself around me instead of leaving space between us.
My lips were stuck in a seemingly permanent half-smile as we lay there in each other’s arms; our breathing the only thing breaking the silence.

‘This really has been the best Christmas I’ve ever had’ Nick said thoughtfully, ‘I’ve enjoyed myself since the moment we walked through the airport doors, and you know what?’
‘What?’ I murmured.
‘I know it’ll probably sound strange, but I can’t help the smile that comes onto my face when I think that it’s not over. And I know that things are just going to get better when we do go home!’
I found myself nodding. I knew what he meant; this trip had brought us closer in more ways than one.
‘I get what you mean’ I paused, ‘but what I don’t understand is that this is the best Christmas you’ve had. I mean I know why I’ve loved it, I’m here with my family, and you being here with just makes it better, but...you’ve essentially been thrown into a house full of strangers in a foreign country’
‘Yes, but you’re here’ he said matter-of –factly, ‘and I like your family. It’s nice for me to get to watch all of you interact’
There was something about what he said that puzzled me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
‘Yes, but I don’t understand how this can be the best Christmas you’ve ever had’ I continued stubbornly.
I felt him stroke my arm lightly – causing goosebumps to break out, though I wasn’t in any way cold – before he sighed.
‘If you’d seen some of the Christmas’ I’ve sat through, you’d understand’ he laughed without any trace of humour.
I stilled – he’d never told me anything about his family before.

‘What do you mean?’ I asked hesitantly.
‘What I mean is’ he said bitterly, ‘I’ve never had a family like yours. This whole trip and seeing how you and your family act around each other are like whole new experiences for me’
I slowly turned in his arms, so I was facing him. I could barely make him out in the darkness - just a faint outline, and I could see that he was staring at the ceiling. Surprisingly, I could still see his eyes. It was as if he was still reflecting the light from the stars, even though we were inside – but I knew that it was just him pure and simple.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ I asked softly as I placed my hand directly over his steadily beating heart.
I’d learned since meeting him that you always feel better if you tell someone about what’s bothering you.
After a moments silence, he began to speak, all the while staring at the ceiling, but holding me tighter as if reassuring himself that I was actually there.

‘I’ve never had a perfect family.
You know I’m an only child, and any extended family I have are either dead or we don’t ever see them. So my whole life it was only me and my parents.
My dad has never really liked me – as far back as I can remember he’s been sort of distant. He adores my mother, and nobody could ever say that doesn’t love her with all his fucking heart’ Nick’s tone was angry and bitter and I just wanted to give him a hug, but I didn’t, I stayed still and let him continue.
‘I think part of the reason he never liked me is because he actually resents me. My mother loved me as any mother would love their child, and my father resented that’
I was confused. He said that his father “loves” his mother, but that she “loved” Nick – why had he changed his tenses?
‘I’m not sure when it was, but I wasn’t very old when he started to drink. It started out as once a week or so, but as the years went by, he went out and got hammered more frequently.
It wasn’t too bad I suppose, when he came home at night he might shout a bit, but he was never violent to either me or my mother’
He was silent for a moment, lost deep in thought.

‘Everyone loved my mother. She could make friends with anyone, but she wasn’t a strong woman’
Again I noticed his continued use of the past tense in relation to his mother – what had happened?
‘I think my dad’s drinking problem really hurt her – and every time he shouted, she seemed to shrink into herself, but most of the time you wouldn’t know it. It was like she put on a mask for the world to see and it rarely slipped.
I watched for years, too young to really understand what was going on, I just remember that sometimes I’d catch her just standing staring out a window, and she looked so old – old beyond her years. But then she’d turn and look at me, and she’d smile her familiar smile as she slipped the mask back on’ he paused as if he needed to collect his thoughts.

‘Then when I was eleven, she got pregnant and she was happy – truly happy for what seemed like the first time in years. She wasn’t even showing, but she’d sometimes just rest her hand across her stomach with this secretive smile on her face as if she could actually feel the baby inside her.
She’d always loved children and I don’t know whether it was planned or not but I didn’t care because she was happy.
My dad was happy too. He still drank – he was an alcoholic by that stage, but he didn’t drink as much and there wasn’t nearly as much shouting.
We were starting to feel more and more like an actual family.
We were far from perfect, but anything was better than the tense atmosphere that always seemed to be present when we were all in the same room.
I actually allowed myself to hope that someday my dad would stop drinking completely – and we’d be truly happy, me, my mum and dad, and my unborn sibling’

A growing feeling of dread was filling the pit of my stomach; I could sense that this story wasn’t going to have a happy ending.
He turned and looked at me, just looked as he reached out and barely brushed his fingertips against my cheek. With a sigh he dropped his hand and went back to staring at the ceiling.

‘Then I got sick’ he sounded resigned and slightly bitter.
‘I got what’s called Fifth disease. It’s common enough, and especially in children between the ages of five and fifteen. Most cases are pretty mild and are similar to those of the Flu.
There’s a 50% chance that a family member of someone who contracts the disease will catch it too.
Unfortunately, though it’s most common in children, adults can get it too and it seemed that my mother was to be part of the unlucky 50%. The bad luck didn’t stop there though. She was one of the rare few who contracted a severe case of it.
She lost the baby – my baby sister – and to this day I’ve never seen anyone that upset’

The lump from earlier was back in my throat – though not for the same reasons, and tears pricked my eyes at his next words.
‘I hated myself. I was only eleven but I knew that it was because of me that she got sick, I think part of me still hates myself for what I did, for what I caused’
A single tear rolled down my cheek and I was happy that he was staring at the ceiling because I didn’t want him to see me crying.
I surreptitiously wiped my face dry, but he didn’t notice. He was too lost in his memories as he became that eleven year old boy again, who blamed himself for something that was out of his control.
All I wanted to do was make him look at me and tell him that it wasn’t his fault. But I didn’t, I knew it wouldn’t help and his story was far from over.
‘As you can imagine, my dad wasn’t very happy either. I knew he blamed me, just as I blamed myself and he became more and more distant, drinking himself into a stupor every night.
My mother wasn’t the same. She was distraught over the loss of her child and she could see what was happening to my father.
She continued to get sicker, and to this day I think she just gave up. She finally let go of the perfect façade she’d wrapped so tightly around herself for so long, and she just stopped fighting.
She got what is called Encephalitis, which is a swelling of the brain, and as a result she lapsed into a coma’ his voice sounded choked all of a sudden, and without warning he turned and buried his face in my neck.

I wrapped my arms around him soothingly as I stroked his hair. I knew he was quietly crying and I could feel fresh tears in my own eyes, but I fought them because I knew it wouldn’t do either of us any good if I started to cry aswell. Eventually he pulled back and I stroked his cheek.
‘What happened?’ I whispered.
‘She’s still in a coma eight years on, though she’s been in a permanent vegetative state for three, and the doctors have pronounced her practically much brain dead – she’s no longer receptive to external stimuli.
Dad drinks all the time now, and he hates me – he blames me for everything. As far as I’m concerned, my mother is dead; the body that lies in the hospital isn’t her. I don’t think my mother was truly alive for a long time before she got sick, but my father refuses to take her off life-support.
I don’t know if it’s because the alcohol’s made him so crazy that he thinks she might actually wake up, or if he just loves her too much to let her go’

The different tenses finally made sense.
‘I’m sorry’ I said finally.
‘Thank you’ he whispered, acknowledging the truth of those two little words.
My heart actually hurt for him and everything he’d had to go through.
‘That day, months ago when we went out to lunch and you got that phone call...’ I asked, following a hunch.
I felt him nod against my shoulder, ‘that was my dad; he was drunk and depressed about my mother.
Every now and again, he gets completely out of it and he becomes hysterical. It’s the only time I ever go see him.
I don’t know why he bothers to call me, as soon as I set foot in the house he gets worse. He screams about nothing at all, sobs over my mother and throws things.
It always ends the same – with him passing out and me leaving, not to see him again until the next fit’

I started to understand what Mark had told me at dinner.
Nick was emotionally scarred by both his parents, though both in completely different ways.
And I understood that it was the reason why he was so closed off, even with his best friends and why he tended to be rude and cold towards people when he first them. I was the perfect example.
It didn’t excuse his actions – he shouldn’t treat people like that, but as Mark said, he had his reasons and he is a good guy.
It also explained why he’d gotten so angry with me for mentioning his mother shortly after we’d met, all those months ago.
I remembered something else which had been bothering me. ‘Nick?’
‘Hmm?’
‘the day we came, before we left the apartment, you were on the phone and I couldn’t help overhearing you say that you’d “visit her when you got back”, you meant your mum didn’t you?’
‘Yeah, every year dad makes sure we visit her over the holidays and I usually go the day after Christmas. I was just telling him that I wouldn’t be able to this year, but that I’d go when we got back’
‘I’m sorry’ I said, my voice slightly horrified.
‘For what?’
‘If I’d known, I wouldn’t have...’
‘Don’t apologise, I’m glad you invited me, it was a nice change and as I’ve already told you, this has been the best Christmas I’ve ever had. And besides I can visit her when we get back’
‘Okay’
I still felt kind of bad, but then, I hadn’t known.
‘Shan?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Feel free to say no’ he said in a small voice, ‘but would you come with me? To visit her I mean’
‘I’d like that’ I told him truthfully, my voice full of emotion.
I was touched that he wanted me to come visit his mother with him.
‘Thanks’ he yawned.

It was only then that I realised just how tired I was. A quick glance at my clock told me that it was half two in the morning. We’d been talking for an hour and a half.
We’d been up since before eight the morning before. I yawned and turned onto my side so his chest was again pressed tightly against my back.
‘Goodnight’ he murmured sleepily.
‘Night’ I replied.

Within ten minutes, Nick’s breathing had evened out and deepened.
I lay for a while longer, mulling over everything he’d told me, while I absently played with bracelet that was still around my right wrist; making the charms tinkle lightly against each other.
I’d really had no idea about any of what Nick had told me. He hid it well, but then he got a lot of practice.
I think I was one of the few people who knew his background.
My heart was practically swelling with the love I felt for him at that moment. Reaching out with my left hand, I gently joined it with his hand that was draped over me.
I smiled slightly as I drifted off to sleep.

It took me a while to wake myself up. I had to drag myself out of my dream and I slowly opened my eyes, blinking to clear them.
My room was quite bright and I had to squint against what to me felt like a bright glare, as if I was staring into the sun.
The first thing I became aware of was Nick. He was lying on his back, his head facing away from me.
My head was pillowed on his chest, and one of my legs was hooked lazily over his. Both of his arms were still wrapped around me.
The next thing I became aware of was the fact that I really, really needed to use the bathroom.

Sighing at the inconvenience of bodily functions, I set about trying to extract myself from Nick’s embrace without waking him. It was a tough job and I doubt Houdini could’ve done any better.
I was just glad that no one was around to witness my great escape – it had been anything but smooth.
I quickly climbed over him, trying not to jostle the mattress too much as I moved.
When my feet hit the floor, I quietly hurried to the bathroom, silently shutting the door behind me.

I scrutinised myself as I washed my hands. I looked tired after the long day and late night I’d had yesterday, but at the same time I looked...happy?
Which was weird because I’d just woken up.
Of course I knew why I was happy – I knew who was the cause of it, but I wondered was this new happiness only visible to me because I knew it was there, or would everyone in my family notice, like I was walking around with a giant sticker on my forehead with the words “I Love Nick” written in permanent marker?
I smiled at my reflection, I’d just have to wait and see.

When I was finished, I quietly went back into my room. I had just reached the bed and was preparing to climb back over Nick and back into his arms when he opened his eyes and looked at me.
‘Damn’ I sighed, ‘I was hoping to get back into bed without waking you’
He rolled his eyes as he stretched his arms above his head. ‘Sweetheart, I woke up as soon as you moved...smooth manoeuver climbing over me by the way, it was very entertaining’
I felt myself blush, ‘bastard! Remember whose bed you’re sleeping in’ I threatened.
‘Oh I never forget Sweetheart, trust me’ he grinned widely.
I felt my stomach tighten but I ignored it and rolled my eyes at him.
‘Are you going to move?’ I said snarkily, ‘it’s cold’
He chuckled, ‘sorry, I forgot no banter before you’ve had any caffeine’ he said as he scooted over to make room for me – at least I wouldn’t have to climb over him again.

I smiled condescendingly at him as I lifted the covers and climbed in, ‘you’re finally learning...next I’ll just have to teach you to have a cup of tea and a snack waiting for me when I wake up’
‘And why would I do that?’ he quirked a brow in my direction.
I shrugged, ‘as far as I see it, it’s a win-win situation’
He looked mildly fascinated, ‘do explain that particular logic’
I pulled the covers up further, ‘well I get tea and a snack, and you get your banter. You see? Win-win’ I smiled sweetly at him.
He snorted, ‘don’t hold your breath’
‘Maybe I will, you forget that you’re my bitch’
He sighed, ‘I really regret ever agreeing to that’
I grinned smugly, ‘yeah, it wasn’t the best decision you’ve ever made – you didn’t consider the long run’
‘I’ll keep it in mind next time’ he said.

We were silent. He had his back against the headboard, and when I sat up, trying to make myself more comfortable – he reached out and took my hand.
I stilled and looked at him questioningly.
‘I just wanted to say thank you for last night’ he told me quietly, ‘I already feel a bit better after just sort of venting and getting it off my chest you know?’
I tilted my head and smiled crookedly at him, ‘are you kidding me? How many times have you had to listen to me rant or put up with me crying when I’m upset? It’s what friends do’
My expression turned more serious, ‘and I’m glad that you feel like you can talk to me. I’m always here’ I said as I gently reached out and cupped his jaw.
‘I know’ he said, and leaned forward to quickly place a light kiss on my forehead, ‘and thank you’
It wasn’t exactly the type of kiss I wanted, but oh well.

With one lat smile, we lay back down and instantly curled around each other, like it was the most natural thing in the world.