When the Lights Go Out

Chapter 1: The Invitation I take my lunch dishes into the tiny kitchen and rinse them off, to be washed later. I’m doing some decent writing for the first time since Emma kicked me out, and I don’t want to lose momentum. As I resume my position in front of my computer on my sister Ashley’s comfy couch, I check my text messages. Just in case… And there is a message from Emma: Hey, Nik. Do you by any chance have my short-sleeved black sweater? I don’t care, really—just wondered. What the f**k? This is the first I’ve heard from her for over a month, and she’s asking about a damned sweater? I text back: Em—no. No sweater. I didn’t take your stuff. Reply: Okay—just asking. Wanted to wear it to the office party next weekend. I send no reply. How insulting and thoughtless. As I obsess about the coming holiday, a commercial for holiday cruises comes on the muted television. I feel like punching those smiling people… I know Christmas is coming up, but I really don’t want to think about it. Honestly, I’m barely holding on to a bit of sanity living back here in Tucson with my little sister, Ashley. Plus, it’s hard to be in a festive mood when I just broke up with the girl I thought was the love of my life. I would be really fine with skipping the entire holiday season this year. So when Ashley comes in from work with the mail, including a mysterious blue envelope from our grandfather, I admit I’m less than enthusiastic. If it’s some kind of invitation. I already know I don’t want to go. I want to see Poppi, but not so much the rest of my family. And I’m definitely not up for meeting anyone new. Ashley tosses the mail on the couch next to where I’m sitting, watching Jerry Springer with no sound and trying to write. See, I’m determined not to let Emma’s abrupt departure from my life put a damper on my career. Only a few months ago, my world was especially wonderful. I had a screenplay accepted by an indie film company at the age of twenty-eight, and my grandfather said he was proud of me for the first time in years. Everyone went to see the film when it came out. I got a hefty check, and I shared a trendy apartment in Phoenix with the cutest girl in the world. Well, that was then. Now is sharing a tiny stucco house in this familiar town with my sister and struggling to stay focused. Yes, I know most people find Tucson a cool place, but not when you spent your college days here and you return in defeat. Although everyone I know here is still talking about my writing success, I feel like a personal failure because of the thing with Emma. Of course, I’m grateful for Ash giving me a place to live, but the whole thing still sucks. I glance through the mail and pick out Poppi’s envelope. “I didn’t open it yet; we should open it together. What could it be?” asks Ashley. She goes to the kitchen to pour a glass of wine, and brings one for me back to the living room. I move my folding laptop table so she can sit on the couch. “No idea,” I answer. “Party, barbeque, dinner?” “Wedding?” adds Ashley. “What? No way.” “Way. I mean, I think he’s been seeing this woman on and off for a while, since they were in Evita together last spring. Maybe Poppi is thinking he’s not getting any younger and he may as well take the plunge. It’s been a lot of years since Gran died.” I think about this a moment. “Maybe. Or…maybe he’s caught up in the pretend world of the theater and thinks he’s Juan Peron. Have you met her?” “No. Talked on the phone once, that’s all. I can’t even remember her name…” “Well, open the damn thing and let’s find out.” Ashley gives me a disdainful look and tears open the blue envelope. It turns out to be a simple note from Poppi, making sure we’re both on for spending Christmas in Flagstaff. Even though we think of him as youthful for his sixty-five years, I guess he’s still old-fashioned enough to write a note to formally invite us. He also mentions that ‘Lenore might stop by.’ That must be the woman he met in the theater. Shit! I know how Poppi gets when he goes out with someone. He tends to jump right in without thinking what the person is really like. I immediately start worrying about what my grandfather might be getting himself into. We have no clue who this Lenore is, or where she came from…” Ashley moves over to the armchair and sips her wine. “Well, we’ll have to wait and see. Poppi is a rational and intelligent man, and if he likes this woman, we’ll give her a chance. I trust him to know what he’s doing. And I do know that she came from California—Petaluma I think.” I shake my head at this. “You’re forgetting how he gets when he dates a woman. Even casually. Remember last year—that woman who turned out to be a white witch or something? We don’t know how old this woman is or anything. He gets carried away, Ash.” “Well, there’s no point in fretting about it now. I’ m certainly not going to call and question him about her…We’ll just have to wait and meet her at Christmas. You’re coming to Flagstaff with me, aren’t you?” she looks at me as if I have to come or the world will stop turning. I change the channel to the local news and unmute the TV. “Yeah, might as well. No other plans.” I think about the romantic Christmas I had planned to have with Emma and the parties we would have gone to together. “I want to see Poppi. And I definitely want to check out this Lenore.” “Okay, well—be polite at least, will you? She’s probably a perfectly decent woman. And she’s involved in community theater, so that’s a big plus for Poppi.” At that, Ashley goes into her room to change out of work clothes. I focus on the news, which is telling me that there is a sixty percent chance of a thunderstorm tomorrow. I can’t help but remember how Emma and I used to love rainy days.