The back of Dad's head peeks over the top of his chair as he watches television, and I get a flash of my old irritation that he didn't bother coming to say hello when we arrived. But as I get closer, I notice he's wearing a giant set of headphones, and when I touch him on the shoulder, he jumps a little before standing and giving me a smile.
"Son! Sorry, didn't hear you arrive." He pulls off the headphones and gestures to them. "Bought myself an early Christmas present. These babies are the only things that will block out your mother's incessant Christmas carols. They also have Bluetooth, so I can watch television in peace."
I glance at the TV screen, and after a moment realize that the tall actor dressed in scrubs and a white coat is me.
"Dad, really? This episode again?" A couple of months ago I was a guest star on a popular medical drama. I played a brain surgeon. Dad just about passed out with happiness. If he couldn't have the satisfaction of his son being an actual doctor, then he was sure as hell going to revel in him being a fake one.
"It's just a great episode," he says with a shrug. "You rattle off that medical jargon like a pro, son. I still say you would have made one hell of a doctor."
"Yeah, apart from all that pesky throwing up at the sight of blood."
"Minor obstacle." He smiles and claps me on the shoulder. "Would you like a drink?"
"Is it likely a leomorphic xanthroastrocytoma will occur in the upper hemispherical leptomeninges of the brain?" My dad blinks at me. "The answer is 'yes', Dad. Obviously."
He smiles. "See? I totally bought you knowing that stuff."
As he heads over to the bar to pour us whiskey, I think about how far our relationship has come in recent years. Dad no longer criticizes me about my chosen profession, and I don't lash out like a defensive asshole every time he speaks to me. Sounds simple, but it took us a long time to get here, all adult and self-aware.
I think the turning point came when I had my motorbike accident in France a few years ago. The thought of losing his only son made Dad reassess how he treated me, and in turn I got therapy for all the crap that made me behave like an idiot. Now, we're closer than we've ever been, and I wish I hadn't wasted so much time pushing him away.
He hands me a generous tumbler of whiskey on the rocks and clinks my glass with his. "Merry Christmas, son."
"Merry Christmas, Dad."
As I'm swallowing my first mouthful, I hear the front door open.
"Hey, guys!" my sister calls down the hallway. "We're here."
I put my glass on the coffee table, and head to where Elissa and her best friend, Joshua Kane, are stamping slush off their shoes and shaking snowflakes out of their hair.
"It's really starting to come down out there," Elissa says with a smile. "Merry Christmas, big brother." She stands on her toes to hug me.
"Merry Christmas, Lissa." When I let her go, I turn and shake Josh's hand. "Hey, Josh. Mamma and Poppa Kane have fled Manhattan as usual?"
He squeezes my hand before taking off his glasses and wiping them dry on his t-shirt. "Yep. They're like clockwork. As soon as the first snow falls, my parents make the great Jewish pilgrimage to warmer climates. They've gone to Australia this year. I made sure they bumped up the value of their insurance policies before they left, of course, because we all know everything in Australia can kill you. Who knows? I may be an orphan before the new year."
"But a rich orphan?"
"Exactly."
I smile and shake my head. Josh has been Elissa's best friend since she was fifteen, so having him at our place for Christmas is as expected as Mom's Christmas carol binge. I always wondered why he and Elissa never hooked up, considering they seem to spend every waking moment together and clearly love each other. But Elissa always brushes me off when I pressure her about it. She tells me that despite Josh being an attractive, heterosexual man, she doesn't feel that way about him.
Of course she doesn't. God forbid my sister would actually choose to go out with a nice guy for once instead of the constant string of douches she seems to attract. I've only met a few of the guys she's dated over the past few years, but I've universally wanted to punch each one in the head. My sister is gorgeous, ambitious, and intelligent. Why the hell she doesn't have some guy worshipping at her feet, I'll never know.
"Lissa!" Cassie appears beside me and envelops my sister in a giant hug. "How can I miss you so much when I see you at work every day?"
Elissa squeezes her back. "Well, me bossing you around at the theater is hardly quality time together. Plus, my stupid brother always keeps you to himself. Selfish."
I roll my eyes. "As if I have a choice. Cassie and I are onstage together for nearly the entire performance. There's no way for me to not monopolize her."
Elissa steps back from Cassie and turns to me. "And what about after the show? When you abduct her into your dressing room and proceed to make noises that my entire crew complains they can never unhear? What about then?"
I clear my throat, pick up her bag of food, and peek inside. "Your famous mac and cheese? Cool."