Twenty-Six
DECEMBER-18 YEARS OLD
I went with Matthew to his family’s house for Christmas Eve. After we were sufficiently stuffed, we all went into the living room and to play charades. His older brothers are hilarious.
“Don’t even try it,” one of them said to Matthew when he looked like he was mouthing a word to me during the game, “You do it and you forfeit, Ty.”
“Ty?” I ask.
“Oh, don’t mind them,” Matthew’s dad says. “They pull out the old nicknames when they get competitive,” he chuckles.
“Reminds me of Momma’s house,” his mom says, “when we used to go there for Christmas.” The mood in the room shifted suddenly and I could feel the sadness.
“Why is almost every southern boy nickname either Ty, T-boy or Bubba?” I ask and they all laugh together.
“Yes! Thomas’ nickname was T-boy
