The Haunted

Julian sat in his office, shades pulled against the setting sun, although orange light continued to seep between the cracks, striping the furniture and the opposite wall of the room with cinematically noirish bars. He was supposed to be working on a new project for an upscale retailer in Santa Fe, but for the past twenty minutes he’d been staring at the screen saver on his computer—twisting, multicolored, geometric designs—and zoning out. He sometimes got good ideas when allowing his mind to wander or go blank, but not today, and as the angle of the sun shifted, causing one of the orange light bars to cut across his field of vision, he thought that he might as well just call it a day. Claire’s parents were coming over tonight, along with her sister’s family, and he should probably head downstairs anyway.

He was dreading the visit. It was a social obligation, one of those things they had to do, although as far as he was concerned, Claire’s parents had already come over and taken a tour of the house, as had Diane and her family, and that was good enough. Claire, however, had insisted on inviting everyone for dinner, and he was going to have to put on his best face and make nice.

That was easier said than done. Her mom was all right, but her dad was an angry, hostile man who never had a good word to say about anyone, especially Julian (although, to his credit, he did seem to genuinely like his grandchildren). And Diane’s husband, Rob, was a redneck jerk. Julian liked Diane, but he had never been able to figure out how she’d ended up with such a loser.

Maybe he should stay up here until they left, pretend that he had a lot of work to do and a rapidly approaching deadline to meet. Moving the mouse, he disrupted his screen saver to display a very sketchy prototype of a Web site.

Moments later, James came in quietly—as usual— entering the office as unobtrusively as possible. Neither Julian nor Claire had ever been the sort of parents to make their children knock before entering a room. Such a thing seemed too formal and distancing. But, on his own, James had developed the habit of coming into the office silently, so as not to disturb his father, waiting patiently until he was noticed.

Julian popped in a disk and saved what little work he’d done this afternoon, swiveling around to face his son. “Hey, James.”

“I’m sorry to bother you. …”

“Knock off that craziness. Just be normal.”

James smiled, moving next to him. “Okay. Sorry.”

Julian took out the disk and switched off his computer, standing up.

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

James looked at him with utter seriousness. “Is it okay if I don’t like sports?”

That had come out of nowhere. But it was obvious from the expression on his face that it was something that greatly concerned the boy, and Julian, touched, put an arm around his son’s shoulder. “Of course,” he said. “What would make you ask something like that?”

“Megan said you think I’m a wuss and you’re ashamed of me. She said it’s because I don’t like to play sports.”

Julian suppressed a smile. “Don’t listen to your sister,” he told James. “You know she just says things like that to annoy you.” He turned the boy to face him, putting one hand on each shoulder and looking him straight in the eye. “You are who you are. And whatever you like or don’t like is fine with me. Everyone’s different. As my grandma used to tell me, ‘It takes all kinds to make a world.’”

James looked relieved.

Julian smiled kindly. “You’re my son. I love you no matter what.” His smile broadened. “Besides, if I didn’t know by now that you hate PE and like playing video games, I’d be a real moron.”

James grinned. “Well …”

He gave his son a hug, grateful once again that the boy still allowed him to do so.

“We’d better go downstairs,” Julian said. “Your grandma and grandpa will be here pretty soon.”

“Can I just stay with them tonight? I don’t want to play with Mike and Terry.”

Julian understood and sympathized. Like their father, James’s cousins were wild and obnoxious. But as he explained to his son, he was closer in age to them than Megan, and a boy, and since they were coming over to his house, it was his job to be a good host and entertain them. “Tell you what, though,” he said. “You don’t have to stay in your room with them. I’ll let you guys hang out in the living room and watch TV. Put on anything you want. Cartoons. That should keep them occupied.”

“And Grandma and Grandpa can stay with us!”

“If they want to.”

That seemed to satisfy him, and the two of them headed downstairs together.

Their guests began arriving soon after: Claire’s parents first, then her sister’s family ten minutes later. As always, they ended up separating into groups, women in the kitchen, men in the living room, and Julian saw James shoot him a look of anger and betrayal as Claire herded the kids upstairs. He vowed to make it up to his son after dinner and rescue him, allowing James to hang out with the adults and letting the bratty cousins fend for themselves.