Note: This is part of a series:
Ben stopped at the department desk on his way into the office. "Morning, Claudia."
"Good morning, Professor Bruckner." The elderly department secretary gave Ben a sunny smile along with his mail. "How are you?"
"So far so good." Ben laughed. "We'll see after my first class."
"Don't forget there's a staff meeting at three o'clock this afternoon. Make sure to tell your classes you won't be having office hours. I don't want a flock of love sick students staging a sit in when you don't show up."
"I doubt that'll be a problem, but I'll remind them anyway." Ben unlocked his office door and set down his messenger bag and mail and removed his leather jacket. There wasn't much to the office. Just a box of a room personalized with an old Turkish rug he'd bought years ago, a battered sofa from his own college days and two oversized chairs along with his desk which currently was covered in half-graded term papers.
He sorted the morning's mail which consisted mostly of invitations to different departmental holiday parties and a few private parties of other faculty members. Ben put a few of them in his bag to take home and left the rest on his desk to remind him to decline. It seemed that the number of parties grew exponentially every year and there was just no way to attend them all.
That done, Ben sat down and booted up his computer. He normally ignored the computer, calling it the world's largest and ugliest paperweight--but some of his students insisted on e-mailing him with questions rather than wait until office hours. While he waited for the computer to boot up, Ben sat back in his desk chair and looked at the pictures scattered over his bookcases. One of he and Hunter on the Liberty Ride sitting in front of the camp fire under the same blanket laughing at something Michael had said from behind the camera. A picture of Michael taken when he wasn't looking while holding J.R, his lips pressed against her temple and her fingers curled around his shirt. Deb and Hunter at an Iron Men game, Deb waving an orange foam 'number one' finger and Hunter wearing an Iron Men sweatshirt.
Logging into his e-mail account Ben sifted through the usual explanations for missed classes, requests for make up tests and the like until one message caught his attention.
TO: BBruckner@carnegiemellon.edu
FROM: Maggpie@pbs.org
SUBJECT: Ho! Ho! Ho!Ben--
I thought I would let you know that this year we're hosting the holiday party at the brownstone. Mom and Dad just won't be back from Italy in time to get everything ready and make room for everyone. Dan and I have more than enough room so we'll be taking it on this year.Now, on to the part that directly concerns you. I expect you, Michael and Hunter to come and stay with us. I've made reservations for your plane tickets and I don't want to hear any shit from you about how you can't be bothered to come home for the first time in six years. It's Christmas, a time when families are supposed to be together. Peace on earth and goodwill towards men. A good time to bury the hatchet wouldn't you say?
I know you weren't happy with how we reacted to your relationship with Paul, and I'm sorry about that. We all are. But it's been long enough. You can't stay away forever. You're married now and we've never even met Michael. You're a father now and we've never seen Hunter. It's not fair, Ben. It's selfish and cruel and completely unlike you to be so withholding of your life that we don't rate so much as an invitation to your wedding...
Mom and Dad will never say any of this, of course, because you're the golden boy, the son who could do no wrong. Well, baby brother, I'm here to tell you you done fucked up and it's time to fix it. So either you show up with your husband and son or I will come to Pittsburgh and drag you back here by the scruff of your thick neck.
I've enclosed the details of your flight arrangements as well as your E-tickets. Tell Michael and Hunter I'm looking forward to meeting them.
Love,
(In spite of your blatant stupidity)
Maggie
Ben read the letter twice and felt a sharp pang of guilt in his chest. His older sister wasn't wrong. Ever since his family had essentially rejected his relationship with Paul, Ben had distanced himself from them. Then there was his diagnosis which had led to a great deal of 'I told you so' at a time when Ben was having a difficult enough time processing things for himself. So the distance had grown and grown until it seemed almost insurmountable. Which was a shame because Ben loved his family and he missed them.
After a few minutes he composed a letter of his own to his older sister.
TO: Maggpie@pbs.org
FROM: BBruckner@carnegiemellon.edu
SUBJECT: HolidaysDear Maggie,
I'm sitting in my office and I just got your e-mail. I know I've been pretty unreachable in the last few years. I'm sorry. Things with Paul and my diagnosis just made everything so much harder. But I'm a different person than I was. I like to think I'm a better man and I want very much to close the rift between all of you and myself.
I can't commit to anything until I talk to Michael, but I don't know of any schedule conflict that would keep the three of us from coming up there for a few days before Christmas. We don't have to stay with you and Dan. We can make arrangements at a hotel if that'd work better.
Let me know.
Ben
Ben sent the note and felt some weight lift from his shoulders. Growing up, Ben's mother had been an extremely overworked social worker in addition to a volunteer in at least a dozen causes. As a result, Maggie had acted as almost a second mother to Ben. Of his three siblings, Ben was closest to Maggie. Gabe, the oldest, was sixteen years old by the time Ben was born and was really out in the world before Ben had much of a relationship with him. Maggie was twelve years old and spent most of her time babysitting Ben. Two years after Ben was born, Tess came along. And Tess was everyone's darling. The youngest and a 'surprise' in his parent's marriage. She was the bane of Ben's existence for most of his childhood. Always following around, always pestering, snooping, spying and getting him in trouble.
At fifty-one, Gabe was just getting ready to retire from his private medical practice as a General Practitioner and move with his wife, Lydia, to Arizona. Maggie worked for PBS as a film editor while her husband Dan worked for the United Nations as an interpreter. They owned a good sized brownstone on the East Side with sixteen year old twins, Jessica and Holly. Tess was a photographer for 'Rolling Stone' and lived the quintessential rock & roll life--breakfast with Jagger, dinner with Jay-Z. L.A was her home base but it was next to impossible to catch her there.
After his morning classes, Ben had an hour free before his staff meeting. He grabbed a salad and a granola bar from the cafeteria and ate in his office. He'd tried calling Michael, but he was on a conference call with Justin all morning working on ideas for the next issues of 'Rage.'
Ben checked his e-mail and was mildly surprised to see a slew of mail all from various members of his family.
TO: BBruckner@carnegiemellon.edu
FROM: DocBruck@eastclinic.com
SUBJECT: HolidaysHey, little brother, I just got a call from Maggie and she says that she's got you convinced to come home for Christmas. Is she delusional? Just checking to see if I should take back the Donna Karan sweater I got her and exchange it for a straightjacket. Knowing our Magpie, she's already phoned Mom and Dad in Rome, Tess wherever the hell she's at and possibly the New York Times.
If it's any consolation, I'm sorry about that business with Paul. Maggie's made me promise to be on my best behavior with your husband and I will do my best.
How are you feeling? I know you've switched your meds and altered the cocktail, but I can't remember what you're taking. You know, there are some new therapies and trials out there if you're interested...
Let me know--
Gabe
Ben smiled. Gabe was a doctor through and through. But he made note to take him up on the offer, if not for himself then maybe there was something that would benefit Hunter. He moved on to the next e-mail.
TO: BBruckner@carnegiemellon.edu
FROM: Maggpie@PBS.org
SUBJECT: A Hotel?Ben Dearest,
If you so much as mention the word 'hotel' again, I will personally flay you alive and serve you for Christmas dinner. (Which by the way, please give me a few hints on what Michael and Hunter like to eat.) There is more than enough room for you and half of Pittsburgh to stay here. Jess and Holly will double up and that leaves you and Michael with a room, Hunter with his own room, Tess with a room and still room for Gabe and Lydia, although I think they may stay with Mom and Dad.
Remember--no excuses.
Maggie
Leaning back in his chair, Ben pulled out his cell phone and tried Michael's number again. Maggie wasn't about to rest until she knew they were coming for sure and he might as well get it over with.
"Hello?"
"Hey. You and Justin finish your teleconference?" Ben closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the chair.
"If by 'teleconference' you mean listening to the rats run around in Justin's apartment while he insists he's doing 'fine', then yeah, we're done."
"That bad?"
"His new place sounds like a shit hole. Of course he'll never admit it." Michael sighed heavily. "So how are your classes?"
"They were fine. I've got a staff meeting in a little bit, but I wanted to run something by you first. My sister, Maggie, e-mailed me this morning and we've been invited to spend a few days before Christmas with my family in New York."
"Really? Well, do you want to go?"
"I think it's high time my family met you and Hunter. Maggie pointed out that I've been an ass lately and maybe, maybe this will make things a little bit better. We'd be back in time to have Christmas in our own home. That's why we always do things a little bit early together, so everyone can do their own thing at Christmas."
"When would we leave? We'll have to make reservations..."
"Maggie's done that already. She sent me three e-tickets." Ben chuckled. "I don't think she wants to give me the chance to back out."
"Then it's settled. Now, on to the real question. What are we going to do for dinner tonight? Hunter's threatened a hunger strike if you sneak soy into anything again."
"It was the one time and he wouldn't have known there was tofu in the sloppy joes if you hadn't told him," Ben grouched. It was getting harder and harder to sneak health food into Hunter and Michael's steady diet of Captain Crunch. Good thing they'd never thought to ask the secret ingredient in the chocolate pudding...
"How about stir fry?"
"Good. I'll stop by the market on my way home." Ben glanced at the clock. "I've got to go if I'm gonna make the staff meeting. I'll see you at home later, beautiful."
"I'll be the one wearing the 'Grope the Cook' apron."