How to Love

“Matt, if you squeeze my head one more time, I swear to God I’ll whack you right in the balls,” I threatened through gritted teeth. It was Easter Sunday, and I was sitting on the couch between Matt and Jake, who had been allowed to attend our family dinner after swearing to me up and down that he’d finished his psych paper that was due the next day. Liz was sitting in the recliner, shaking her head at my annoyance with Matt, coupled with the bickering between Alexander and Dad that was coming from the kitchen.

For whatever reason, Matt had decided to make it his sole mission for the day to irritate the living hell out of me, and he was succeeding. Every Easter Sunday, Dad insisted that we all go to church together, the only major part of his Catholic upbringing that he embraced anymore. So we all went together, and upon entering the church, all of us dipped our fingers in the Holy water and made the cross sign, except for Matt, who dipped his fingers in the water and flicked it in my face. When we finally made it to the pews to sit down, he sat a few seats away from me, and throughout the whole Mass, he made stupid faces at me, causing me to laugh. This earned me dirty looks from not only my dad, but also from a few of the older people sitting around us. When we got back and Jake arrived, Dad laid some snacks out for us to eat before dinner. Matt took it upon himself to force feed me mini pretzel sticks. Now he had resorted to placing his hand on top of my head and squeezing it as if it were a stress ball, which sort of hurt.

Matt unwisely laughed my threat off. “Yeah, right.”

He reached out and palmed the top of my head and squeezed at my temples. I readied my arm and flicked at his crotch, not using enough pressure to actually hurt him, but enough to scare him – or so I thought.

Matt promptly removed his hand from my head and moved it over his crotch, semi-hunching over and hissing in pain. His complaining was completely drowned out by the roar of Jake’s laughter, who seemed to think the whole incident was hilarious. Matt frowned in our direction. “Dude, can’t you control your girlfriend?”

Jake threw his hands up as if surrendering. “She gave you fair warning, bro. I’m not gonna lie, you had it coming to you.” He put an arm around my shoulder. “Besides, you should know that I couldn’t control her even if I wanted to.”

Matt continued grimacing and then glanced over at Liz. “Are you seriously laughing, too?”

Liz’s hand was clasped over her mouth, just barely covering her grin. “A little.” He continued giving her death glares. “It was funny, okay?”

“Man.” Matt shook his head as if betrayed. “You guys are assholes. I’m outta here.” He stood up and started to head into the kitchen, but then there was a loud crash and some incredibly angry swearing. Matt came hustling back and returned to his seat. “Never mind. I think I’ll stay here.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“I’m not prepared to say that dinner is ruined, but I’m also not prepared to say that it isn’t,” Matt answered vaguely.

We all let out a collective groan. “Shit.”

Dad and Alexander appeared in the family room moments later, a combination of irritation and sheepishness. Dad clasped his hands together. “So, uh, it seems that I overcooked the potatoes…”

“Despite the fact that I warned him that would happen,” Alexander interjected passive-aggressively.

Dad ignored him. “Also, the ham sort of fell off of the pan and ended up exploding on the floor. So in short, we’re gonna have to find something else to eat for dinner. I have Lean Cuisine, saltines, and wine.”

“I vote on going out to eat.” Matt’s hand shot up in the air. “I also vote on hiring a caterer for all of the rest of our major holiday meals. Who’s with me?”

All of us including Dad raised our hands.

“Deal,” Dad said. “I give up on this fucking cooking shit.” He beckoned Alexander back into the kitchen with him. “Come in here and help me clean this up so we can figure out what the hell we’re gonna do now.” They disappeared back into the kitchen, Alexander muttering under his breath.

I looked between Liz and Jake. “Still glad you ended up here?”

“Still a lot calmer than my family gatherings,” Liz replied with a shrug. That was something I definitely believed. In ways, her family reminded me of the mafia. Her mother served as a dysfunctional matriarch, and there were always problems within her family. Still, they were all fiercely loyal to each other and if you crossed one of them, you crossed them all. Being around them, there was always some element of drama going on, and I got emotionally worn out just hearing about it a lot of the time.

“Still more pleasant than my family,” Jake said. This was also easy to believe. I’d eaten dinner at his house again the previous weekend, and his father continued to make snide comments about Jake’s future and his mother was her usual, condescending, fake self. I wasn’t sure how he managed to survive like that and I frequently told him so. “I would’ve been happy to help your dad out if he would’ve asked. Although I don’t know how much good it would have done. Not to sound like an asshole, but all of your appliances are from the nineteen-fifties and in need of some serious upgrading.”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know, dear.” This was the reason I avoided cooking as much as I possibly could, and when I had to, I stuck to things that I knew were safe, like spaghetti, and I watched everything like a hawk. Dad had a habit of not paying attention to the food that diligently, and that coupled with sixty year old appliances always made for a shitty meal.

“Dude, he’s not gonna ask for your help,” Matt said. “He doesn’t even want Alexander’s help. He’s a stubborn old man.”

“Matt, he’s forty three,” I said. “You better watch it or I’ll hit you again.”

“If you do, I will pick you up and drop you on your head so fucking fast, you won’t even know what happened,” he countered. Matt was a big dude while I was on the short side, so I knew he could easily do that if he wanted to.

“Will you two knock it off?” Liz asked, rolling her eyes in her usual dramatic fashion. “What is it about holidays? You guys are never normally this mean to each other.”

“It’s all in good fun,” Matt said and put an arm around me, pushing Jake’s away. “How much do you all wanna bet that we’re gonna end up at Friendly’s?”

“I’m not even going to take that bet,” I told him. “I already know that’s exactly what we’re doing.”

Sure enough, about a half hour later, we were sitting in one of the giant booths at Friendly’s in Twat Waitress’s section. Luckily Dad had taken pity on me and allowed me to have a corner seat with Jake to my right, while he made Matt sit on the far end of the table away from me. That at least stopped Matt from kicking me, but not from attempting to launch straw wrappers down the front of my shirt.

“Would you freaking stop?” I demanded, exasperated. “It’s going to look like Goddamn Christmas when I stand up.”

After Liz whacked him hard in the back of the head, Matt finally stopped in time for Twat Waitress to come back and take our orders. She didn’t pay very much attention to anyone except my dad, who she wouldn’t stop staring at. Dee, as we found out her name was (funny how none of us had ever bothered to learn her name) would also not stop attempting to flirt with my dad by patting his shoulder and brushing his fingers with her own while she took the menus from him. All Dad did in response was give her an uncomfortable, tight smile. Finally Dee walked away, leaving us to our business.

Alexander smirked as soon as she was out of earshot and muttered, “Dee wants the D.”

We all laughed except for my dad, who finally joined us after fighting off a smile for a few seconds. The rest of dinner luckily passed without incident caused by Matt or Dee, save for her writing her number at the bottom of our check, accompanied with a smiley face. Matt and Liz left right from the restaurant in order to make her family’s gathering. Alexander rode back with us, stayed for a little while and teased Dad about his newfound studliness, and then headed back to his place. This left Jake, Dad and I in front of the TV, fighting boredom.

If Mom were still alive, at this point we would have all been on our way to her sister’s house to be with her family, plus my grandpa and his sassy girlfriend. But since Mom’s passing, her sister never made any effort to include us in family activities, though Dad still hung out with our grandpa on occasion. Since this was only our second Easter without Mom, Dad and I had yet to form a new holiday tradition. The previous year, Dad had slipped into a food coma and remained asleep on the couch until early morning while I cleaned up my bedroom. Family bonding at its finest.

Finally after what felt like hours of silence (though it was really only twenty or so minutes), Jake’s phone started going off and he stepped out of the family room to answer it, returning just a minute later. He settled back into his seat next to me, letting one hand rest on my knee.

“Who was that?” I asked.

“Just Michelle,” he answered easily. “She was reminding me that I was supposed to be back at my grandma’s by six, that’s all.” He shifted. “Do you wanna come?”

“I don’t want to intrude,” I told him, though I did truthfully want to go. Jake’s grandma was just about the sweetest person in the world, unlike his parents who disliked me with a passion.

“You’re not,” Jake insisted. “She told me last week that I could invite you and your dad. I just kept forgetting to mention it to you, so that’s my fault. But you’re both welcome to join us.” I hesitated before answering, so he added, “Don’t worry, my parents never stay that long.”

“Oh.” I hated to admit that that was the biggest reason for my not wanting to go. “Okay, sure, I’ll go.”

Jake smiled and then leaned past me to look at my dad. “Mr. Polanski, are you in?”

“Yeah, why the hell not?” he said, shrugging in response. “It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do.”

After a few more minutes, we left. I rode along with Jake in his car while Dad followed along in his. We got to Jake’s grandma’s house about three minutes after six. It was his mother who answered the door, flashing a fake, plastered on smile at us. “Oh good, you’re finally here.”

“We’re barely even late, Mom,” Jake said, allowing his mother to give him air kisses on both cheeks, though he became stiff. I’d experienced Jake acting that way several times, but it still amazed me how uptight he got around his parents. It was like someone flipped a switch and he went from easygoing and relaxed to speaking in strained tones and moving like a robot. He tolerated them and remained polite, but it still seemed that everything he did faced constant judgment and made him anxious.

Jake went inside, moving just past his mom, waiting for her to greet us and let us in. She did the same fake-kissing thing to me as well. “Veronica, so good to see you again!” Jake rolled his eyes dramatically behind his mother as she continued. “You look well!”

“Thank you,” I said as sincerely as possible and then gestured to my dad. “This is my father.”

“Hi.” Dad extended his hand towards Mrs. Damon. “Michael Polanski.”

“Doctor Hannah Damon.” She looked him over, her eyes flicking up and then down quickly. Evidently she was not nearly as impressed by my father as Dee the Twat Waitress was. She ignored his hand completely, as if it were covered in toxic waste and she wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole.

Jake was shaking his head behind her, his jaw clenched. He waved us in past his mother. “Mom, don’t make them stand out there. You wanna talk about rude…”

She apologized and stepped aside so we could come in. Jake’s grandma’s house was a small, quaint little place. I’d been there once before to pick her up for dinner one night, and it felt very homey. I loved getting that feeling as soon as I walked through the door.

“This is a nice house,” I commented.

“It’s small,” Mrs. Damon said passively. She led us out of the family room and into the kitchen. Michelle was sitting at the breakfast bar talking to their grandmother, Marianne, while Mr. Damon sat at the kitchen table, smoking.

“Patrick, I thought I told you to put that damn thing out.” Marianne glared at him as she finished frosting the chocolate cake in front of her.

“Relax, Mother.” Mr. Damon rolled his eyes in response.

“No, Dad, seriously,” Michelle insisted, rushing to her grandmother’s defense. “Do you not see the breathing machine in the corner?”

Mr. Damon gave a dramatic sigh as if he was the one that was being ridiculously put out by the situation. “Fine. I’ll smoke outside.” He took his cigarette and walked right past us without acknowledging anyone and went right out the front door.

Jake looked like he wanted to turn around and say something to his dad, but his mom ushered us further into the kitchen, a tight grin stretched across her face. “Look who’s finally here!”

Marianne and Michelle both smiled at us genuinely and greeted us with hugs. Marianne started talking my dad’s ear off, telling him about her day and then asking about ours. She was very personable that way, and I gathered that Michelle inherited that trait from her since she was doing the same thing with me. I hadn’t seen Michelle since she’d returned from her spring break cruise, so she filled me in on her adventures, mostly concerning a handsome Latvian waiter who worked on the ship. Jake was basically the only one without someone that he actually wanted to be talking to. Instead, he took his dad’s seat at the kitchen table while his mother spoke to him in hushed tones. His eyes were sort of glazed over, so I made faces at him when Michelle wasn’t looking in an attempt to get him to laugh, but he wasn’t paying attention.

After a few more minutes, Marianne finished frosting the cake and brought it over to the kitchen table. She started cutting into it and passing out pieces, so Mrs. Damon went outside to retrieve her husband. However, after several minutes, neither one of them came back.

“Go see what they’re doing,” Marianne requested, sending Jake to the family room to check out the window.

He scoffed loudly. “Told you they wouldn’t stay long.”

“What do you mean?” Michelle asked.

“What do you think?” Jake replied sarcastically. “They left, Michelle.”

“Are you serious?” Marianne demanded, shaking her head in disbelief. “I don’t know what in the world happened to your father. My hand to God, all your grandfather and I did was send him off to college and he came back a miserable person.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jake said and sat in the seat next to me. I was having sort of a hard time getting a full read on him. On one hand, he seemed a little more relaxed without his parents there, but he was also clearly irritated at the way they’d gone about leaving. His hand clenched beneath the table, so I put my hand over his and managed to make him loosen up a little.

“Fuck ’em.” Of any of the several things I’d pictured Marianne saying, that had not been one of them. “We don’t need them. More cake for us.”

“Better off without ’em,” Jake agreed, accepting one of the forks that Marianne had started passing out.

Through dessert, Marianne and Dad mostly talked to each other while Jake, Michelle, and I stayed quiet and enjoyed the cake. When we were finished, we took care of the dishes for Marianne and then headed to one of the two bedrooms that had been designated as Jake’s for when he stayed there

Compared to Jake’s room back at his house, it was incredibly clean. The beige carpeting had fresh vacuum lines and there wasn’t a speck of dust in sight. He had his bed pushed into the corner of the room so that it was diagonal with the wall, with end tables on either side. One had an alarm clock balancing on top of a small stack of books while the other remained bare. Across from the bed in the opposite corner was an entertainment center with a TV that I recognized from his bedroom at his parents’ place, along with his Blu-Ray player and some sort of gaming system. Finally in one of the corners, he had his desk set up (which was also from his parents’ house) with a computer chair pushed in nicely. His laptop was open on the desk with his psych textbook and WiFi modem on one side of it and his printer on the other.

Michelle pulled the computer chair out and took a seat in it, leaving Jake and I to sit on his bed. “So what was Mom on your ass about before?”

“Oh, who cares?” Jake said with an eye roll. “She wants me to move back home. I’ve got news for her, though: it’s not going to happen.”

“You moved out?” I asked, feeling my eyebrows furrow in confusion. I wondered why he hadn’t mentioned anything to me, and exactly when all this had happened. I definitely would have remembered him telling me something like that.

“Temporarily,” Michelle answered for him.

“No, not temporarily.” Jake shook his head. “Not this time.” He turned his attention to me. “For good. I’ve just had enough, and it makes more sense for me to stay here anyway. My grandma needs help taking care of the house and she needs someone to drive her places, and I already do that anyway. It’s just easier for everyone if I stay here. Plus, it’s closer to the school, and about ten minutes closer to your place. And you won’t have to feel awkward about coming over anymore. Everyone’s happy.”

“Well, I’m not,” Michelle said. “Who the hell is supposed to fix the WiFi when it gets screwy now?”

Jake gave an exasperated sigh. “I told you exactly what to do. I even left you step by step instructions.”

“Who’s supposed to kill spiders for me?” she complained, making a pouty face.

“You have three options,” Jake began, listing them off on his fingers. “One, ask Dad to do it. Two, do it yourself. Or three, and this one will really blow your mind, kill them yourself.”

Michelle frowned. “I don’t think I like you very much anymore.”

“You’ll get over it.” Jake waved her off.

“Why didn’t you mention anything to me?” I asked him, still curious as to why he hadn’t said a single word about it.

He merely shrugged. “I don’t know. It didn’t seem like that big of a deal. I mean, I just got all moved in yesterday. It’s not like it happened a week ago or something. Why, are you pissed at me?”

“No, not at all.” I shook my head quickly. “I was just wondering. I could have helped you move or get settled or whatever, though.”

“I appreciate it, but I had Clay help me out,” he answered. “No offense, but I have a hard time picturing you helping me carry my entertainment center in here. It’s a pain in the ass to move.”

“I tried to help,” Michelle offered. “But that just didn’t work out. I just ended up carrying boxes of clothes and stuff.” She stretched her arms above her head and yawned. “All this talk of work makes me want another piece of cake, so I’m gonna go grab one. You guys want any?” Jake and I shook our heads, so she shrugged and stood up. “Suit yourselves.”

Michelle headed out, leaving Jake and I alone for the first time all day, save for our car ride over. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’m really sorry about my parents before.”

“It’s okay,” I assured him, waving him off. At this point, I was used to their attitudes and expected nothing less, not that I understood any of it. However, they weren’t my parents, so it wasn’t my job to figure it out.

“No, it’s really not,” Jake said. “I honestly don’t think it has anything to do with you, though. I mean, you saw my dad earlier with my grandma, and that’s his own mother. As far as my mom goes, I’ve got no clue what her problem is.”

“It’s okay,” I said again.

“I just wish it wasn’t like that,” Jake sighed, taking my hand.

“Well, as it so happens, I’m in love with you, not your parents.” I smiled, lacing my fingers through his. “I don’t care what they think about me; I care what you think about me.”

Jake squeezed my hand and started to lean over to kiss me, but then Michelle walked in with her cake. “Jeez, I wasn’t even gone for two minutes and you’re already making out. Get a room, will ya?”

“You realize that you’re in my room, right?” Jake reminded her.

“Details.” Michelle waved her hand as if this was no big deal, taking her seat by the desk again. “Oh, they were talking about you guys in there.”

“Really?” I asked at the same time Jake inquired, “What were they saying?”

“They’re expecting a shotgun wedding.” When neither Jake nor I laughed, Michelle rolled her eyes. “Good lord, it was a joke. Grow a sense of humor, huh?” She gestured towards Jake. “Mr. Polanski was just saying that he thinks you’re a good guy and that you make Veronica happy. He thinks that you relax her.”

“He said that?” I asked in disbelief. That didn’t sound like my dad to me.

“Well, to quote him more directly, he said that he was glad that Jake ‘managed to remove the stick from your ass,’” Michelle corrected herself a little hesitantly.

I laughed. “Yeah, I’d believe that.”

“What’d Grandma say about Veronica?” Jake questioned.

“She said that she adores her,” Michelle went on. “Grandma also thinks that you’ve got your head in the clouds, but that she grounds you and also motivates you. And she’s very impressed that Veronica finally got you to read.” She paused for a second to take a bite of her cake. “Oh, and she said that Mom and Dad are assholes.”

Jake nodded slowly. “Good summary.”

“Thank you.” She swallowed her cake. “Anyway, I’m gonna finish this cake and take off. I’ve got a design project I need to finish up for tomorrow.”

We all talked for a little while and then Michelle headed out, promising to call me soon to go out to dinner and catch up. As much as I liked Michelle and enjoyed her company, I felt a little relieved when she was gone since I’d been dying to get Jake to myself for most of the day. Evidently he felt the same way, since he closed the door after Michelle and sat down next to me on the bed, sliding his hand up my leg. “So where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?”

I leaned into him, pausing right before my lips met his. “Right about here.”

We kissed for a little while, but we were again interrupted by my dad knocking on the door, announcing it was time to go. I sighed against Jake’s shoulder. “I really don’t wanna go. This bed is so comfortable.”

“So don’t,” he told me. “Just stay over. Besides, I could use some help breaking this bed in anyway.”

I blushed a little. “I’m not really comfortable doing that with your grandmother in the next room…”

“Oh, she goes to bed at like, eight-thirty anyway and her bedroom’s on the other side of the house,” he said. “I mean, I’m not saying that we have to do that tonight, but for future reference, she wouldn’t know.” He kissed my nose. “I just don’t really want you to leave yet, that’s all.”

I agreed, and we went to check with my dad and Marianne to ask if it was all right if I spent the night. Marianne of course didn’t mind as long as we didn’t wake her up, and Dad agreed to this after a little persuading. Dad left a few minutes later, and after some small talk, Marianne retired to her room to go to bed. Jake took my hand and led me into the kitchen after her door shut. “I think we might just happen to have a bottle of your favorite wine around here somewhere.”

“You don’t need to do that,” I told him. “Besides, we’ve got school tomorrow.”

“One glass isn’t gonna give either one of us a hangover,” Jake told me after locating the wine and retrieving two glasses. “Plus, I’m kind of in the mood for a glass of wine. I’ll just pour you a small glass if you want.”

“Okay,” I agreed, accepting a semi-filled glass of wine from him. “Thank you.”

He put the bottle of wine away and we headed back to his room, where we settled on his bed up against the headboard. He reached for his remotes, turning on his TV and Blu-Ray. “I got my Netflix hooked up earlier. What do you feel like watching?”

“I don’t care.” I sipped a little from my wine cup. “You pick.”

“Is How I Met Your Mother okay with you?” he asked. “I’m trying to get through all of the episodes in order. I just pretty much started season two.”

“Good season,” I commented. “That’s totally fine with me.”

“Okay, cool.” He started to press play on whatever episode he was on and then stopped himself. “Oh, before I forget, what time do you want me to set the alarm for? I don’t wanna have to rush to swing by your house for your stuff.”

“Like eight, eight-fifteen, probably,” I answered. “I don’t need that much time to get ready.”

“My kind of woman,” he remarked with a smile as he leaned over to set his alarm. He walked over to his dresser when he was done and started rifling around, eventually digging out a pair of boxer shorts and t-shirt for me, setting them down on the edge of the bed. “In case you wanna have something to sleep in.”

I thanked him and then took him up on his offer, accepting the clothes and heading into his bathroom to change clothes. I came back and picked up my wine glass again, curling up next to him on the bed. He started the episode up, and we watched a few, laughing through them and finishing our wine pretty quickly. We watched late into the night, and around twelve-thirty, I started drifting in and out, my head on Jake’s chest. He kissed the top of my head every now and then, and I felt like I was moving closer to him each time he did that. I felt content and warm next to him, and I couldn’t think of any place I’d rather be; this was a new tradition I definitely wanted to keep.