Family Bonds (528 views)

Cliff rolled his eyes when he was stopped and his mother called him by his full name.

”Yeah.” He said, and he didn’t disobey and went to the fridge, opened it, and pulled out some tomatoes. He handed them to his mother and looked at the situation she had going on. ”Here.”

Cliff was going to leave, again, but then Elvis entered the room and curled up on his bed. Dang. He was going to go back to petting Elvis upstairs. But the dog looked comfortable and, as annoyed as Cliff always was with his mom, he wasn’t gonna just leave when there was no Elvis to pet.

”Yeah. I used to.” Cliff said. He could hear the Elvis playing on the radio and it reminded him of the times he would sit and watch his parents dancing together in the kitchen from the second floor of their log house when he was a toddler. A little more bitterly than his previous monotone, he then added, ”and then we moved.”

He opened the fridge and grabbed a can of soda from it, popping the lid and chugging half the contents down.

Cliff continued to feel bitter, even as his mom spoke up again and moved towards her little spice plant that Cliff occasionally stole from when he was bored and wanted to try spicing stuff he cooked up.

When she said he’d made friends Cliff had to strongly resist the urge to roll his eyes and snap at her that she was the one who made friends here – more than just friends – and that if she liked it here so much she should just stay here, with her new family, and leave him be. But, instead, Cliff just shrugged his shoulders with a ”sure” and glanced at the concoction his mother was making. ”Is that only for us?”

He hoped so. He didn’t want to sit through yet another dinner with John and Annabelle.

It was a relief to hear that it was just them that night – though it was also a bit of a damper. Not necessarily that he was glad to be alone with his mother, but he was glad he didn’t have to deal with John and Annabelle. Those two could go off and bond and have the time of their lives. Cliff wasn’t sure why his mother hadn’t gone as well, but whatever. He didn’t care that much.

Cliff shrugged and maneuvered himself over to the dog, petting him, looking into Elvis’ beady eyes as the dog stared back.

”Then what are you making?” He asked. Usually Cliff had no input in what was made – he usually just ate what was put in front of him, silently. But now that he knew John and Annabelle wouldn’t be here he felt... better. Like maybe for once he could actually talk to his mom.

”Okay.” Cliff said. Lasagna was fine by him. Especially if he didn’t have to share any with John’s ass. When she asked him what dessert he would like, he blinked and looked over at her. What would be a good dessert, actually? Instinct said key lime pie, but he didn’t know if they had the stuff.

Still...

”Key lime pie?” He asked, giving Elvis one more ruffle of his fur. The dog seemed content and happier than usual – seeing both of its favorite humans in the same room for once.

Cliff shrugged when she told him to help.

”I guess.” He said. He knew how to make a key lime pie – though he much preferred to cook outdoors, with the sun beating down his face or the smell of the woods surrounding him as he seasoned his fresh catch, he could use the kitchen. It didn’t confuse him, after all, he’d grown up helping his mother when he wasn’t out having fun with his father.

He gave Elvis one last pout and went to the sink, watching his hands. The music was louder here and it reminded him of his father, it was one of his favorite songs. That thought got a twitch of a smile on his face as he swayed slightly to the beat.

Cliff watched as his mother grabbed a bowl and then he went to the fridge, securing what they would need for the pie. They could chill the pie while they ate, he figured, so there was no harm in making it now especially since it had to chill for a number of hours.

When Natalie mentioned the song, Cliff nodded, a little surprised she’d mentioned it, but it was something he latched onto. Since when did his mom mention Rhett? It was only something to expect when John wasn’t around.

”Yeah, I do. He liked to sing along to it.” he said. The singing was god-awful, but it was fun to listen to and Rhett had a contagious smile anyway. ”I don’t think anyone in the world can sing as bad as dad could.”

Cliff snorted. He never danced with Rhett but he did watch him and his mother dance a lot in the kitchen.

”That’s cheesy, mom.” Cliff said but he really didn’t mind the memories that brought. As much as he might joke about his parents being too tmi, or touchy feely, he honestly envied kids who complained about that all the time. His parents being in love with each other was something he always wanted – something he had, but failed to realize – and now he just missed it. He’d never get to see that again.

”One time dad tried to teach me how to dance when we were hiking and he almost pushed me down the cliff,” he said, unaware if he ever told his mother that story. If he hadn’t, it’d be funny to see her reaction when he put it so bluntly!

”Dad was a stud.” Cliff said. Instead of being grossed out by that motion like most teenagers, Cliff thought of it as a reason to be proud. His dad was so cool he was sought out with by all the girls! Not to mention the fact that he was his dad, and had a family that he prioritized above all else.

When she laughed he snorted at the memory. It was a day they got to their site early, and Cliff was tired from walking. So Rhett took him to the cliff and they were overlooking the water, and Rhett was talking about his father and how difficult it had been to live with him. When he said that his father hadn’t even taught him how to dance, the tears forming in Cliff’s eyes had signaled to Rhett that he had yet to teach his son how to dance, too.

Breaking that tradition, Rhett had shown Cliff the steps of a simple waltz. Rhett was kind of hard on his steps, and Cliff stomped on his feet a few times, but progress was made, eventually. One turn and Cliff was facing the wrong way, and stepped behind him, and screamed when he felt no rock beneath his feet. Rhett panicked and had to yank him up with all his strength, and it scared Cliff for the whole trip, so much so that Rhett had to pack up camp and move somewhere farther from the edge.

”Just ‘cause I wanted to. And dad was never really good at picking the best spots to do stuff. Like when we went camping by that river that had no fish.” He brought up a family trip, one designated for teaching Cliff how to fish – with hardly a fish in sight! Rhett really knew the wild, but sometimes, he messed up.

”Mom, I don’t want to hear those kinds of stories.” Cliff said, though he was smiling the whole time. His mom actually mentioned Rhett, and telling him stories about Rhett? That hadn’t happened in years. And though he denied it, Cliff would be interested to hear whatever she had to say about his father.

But when she mentioned the time Rhett had thrown her into the water as a sacrifice, Cliff laughed and remembered that time. After a desperate search for fish, after some smart comment Rhett had decided to throw Natalie into the water. Cliff could still see the water glistening behind his closed eyelids and his mother, drenched to the bone while both he and Rhett laughed. Of course Rhett offered her a change of clothes and his jacket afterwards, but at the time, it was hilarious!

”I forgot about that,” Cliff said, but he was glad he now had that memory in his head, clear as a whistle. His father’s laughter rang in his ears. ”Dad said there was something wrong with the sacrifice which was the whole reason it didn’t work.”

”You can actually not tell those ones to me,” Cliff said, beginning to get the things together for the pie. He’d almost forgotten to actually make the thing! Silly him. He liked hearing his mom talk about his dad though – so much so that it was distracting when he was trying to cook.

”Dad wasn’t just a master prankster. He was the king of pranks. One time when I was trying to light my first fire, it wouldn’t work not because I was bad but because dad got the sticks wet before he let me try. I almost cried.” He said, beginning to make the graham cracker crust first.

Cliff snorted when his mom said she would never tell him those stories, which was good, there were a plethora of other stories about Rhett to discuss. Both of them had spent a good amount of time with him – his mother even more years than him. It made Cliff bitter again for just a moment – If she could recall and have so many memories with Rhett, why was she so greedy as to want another husband – but he forced the thoughts away and continued to mix up the pie.

”I dunno, either. He came up with new ways to do things, too. Like he could probably make a pie without using a spoon just ‘cause he was bored.”

Cliff smiled to himself when he heard his mother complimenting his father, and calling him creative. He really was creative. He had the most wild mind Cliff knew!

When she said she was reminded of Rhett when she looked at him, Cliff looked over at her. There was a small pause, before he shrugged. ”I guess? I mean, he is my dad. So I am kinda like him.”

But even as he said that, in a slightly dismissive tone, it really meant more than he wanted to say. To say that she was reminded of Rhett when she looked at him meant he was doing something right and following in his father’s footsteps accurately. It brought a smile to his face as he finished up the key lime pie and put it in the fridge to chill. After that, he turned towards his mother and tilted his head at her work on the noodles. ”What are you doing now?” He asked, his way of asking if she needed help.

To be told that Rhett was proud of him made Cliff’s heart skip a beat for a second. That was all he wanted – to make his father proud. He shifted and didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t say anything. But his thoughts were swimming at the implication of making Rhett proud.

He listened to his mother and grabbed the cheese from the fridge, and started to grate it over a bowl. ”...how much cheese do you want?” he asked, in a quiet, shy voice.