Anyone who has ever held down a job will understand the peculiar excitement that strikes when the bell rings early on the one precious day you have off.
Before I was even fully awake, the oddest thing flashed through my mindI wondered, in a panic, whether there was some plumbing catastrophe, and rushed to check if I had flooded the neighbour downstairs. The bathroom and kitchen were dry as a bone, so it wasnt the Swans, whom Id managed to flood six months back.
The bell kept ringing insistently, so I shuffled obediently to the door. When I opened it, the first sight that met me was a collection of suitcases, with several people clustered behind them.
Oh, Id never have recognised you in the street! exclaimed an older woman, offering a compliment of the most uncertain sort.
I tried, desperately, to place her.
I peered at the gentleman accompanying her, who grinned cheerfully and stretched out his hand. Behind them I could just see the head of a young man, though mercifully he was silent and spared me further guessing games. The older woman pressed on: Well, are you going to keep us on the doorstep all day? Let us in, love!
Im sorry, what do you mean let us in?
Oh, havent you recognised your uncle? I took care of you! And this one hereshe gestured at the young chapdont you remember, hes your cousin. Hes come up to study in your city, and he simply hasnt anywhere to stay, so weve decided hell stay with you. Well sort him out with a bed later; weve brought a few gifts for you. Your father didnt ring?
No, he didnt call.
Well, he mustve forgotten; well manage on our own. Now, lets get inside, shall we?
What do you mean, move in? Is he meant to stay here?
Thats right, youll look after himyou know how it is, lost in a new city!
Im not looking after anyone, especially since my fiancé visits often and there simply isnt space. Theres just no room.
Well manage somehow
Im afraid I cant do somehow. There are hall rooms for students in this cityI had to manage that myself once.
Oh, no, that simply wont do!
At this, my relations began to get rather testy and started manoeuvring the cases inside, but I blocked the way. It dawned on me that if those suitcases crossed the threshold, removing them would be much harder. I managed to persuade the family to wait a few minutes, then led them to the student halls where my cousin had been accepted.
The response was a volley of accusationsselfishness, cold-heartednesstheir smiles vanished, and before long, so did my relations and their mountain of luggage. When I telephoned my parents to ask what on earth this was all about, my mother was most displeased, reproaching me as well for not being a family person.I hung up, staring at the silent phone in my hand, the early-morning hush settling heavy around me. There was a faint, almost comical smell of shampoomy cousin must have stood too closeand a trail of muddy suitcase wheels across the landing.
I closed the door carefully, not slamming it. My heart thumped uneasily, equal parts guilt, relief, and something sharper: a feeling that this, just perhaps, counted as drawing a line, defining my own perimeterfinally, properly. There would be no apologetic breakfasts, no lost socks on my sofa, no return to the days when family meant giving way until there was almost nothing left for myself.
I let myself laugh, quietly, the first real laugh of my day off, even as my mothers disapproval echoed in my ears. Maybe she was right; maybe I wasnt a family person in the way she understood it. But as the morning gathered itself beyond the window and the city woke up, I realized I could be my own sort of person. I could choose when to answer the bells.
With that, I made coffee. The flat was blissfully empty, the silence ripe with possibility. Through the window, sunlight struck gold on the dust motes, and I could almost believe in fresh beginningsfor them, for me, and for whatever kind of family I might claim in the future, on my own terms.
