Happiness is closer than you think

[Pippi]

“Morgan.”

He looked up at his mom on the other side of the table, one hand holding a spoon still laden with cereal, the other frozen midway through scrolling down Twitter on his phone.

“Mmmmph?”

She looked unsettled. Pale, paler than usual, that is. Morgan tried to think how best to describe her. Rigid, he guessed. Straight back, hands clasped in her lap, lips held tight and thin. Like any sudden movement would make her jump, like if he touched her she’d topple over and shatter. As he watched, he noticed her hands unclasp, grab hold of her knees as if they were the only thing tethering her to Earth, then clasp them again. She wasn’t quite looking at him. It was like there was something on his shoulder that she wanted her attention to desperately be grabbed by, rather than his face.

Morgan put his spoon down, and waited for her to reply. It took a few moments longer for her to do so.

“You know it’s Announcement Day in a just over a week, don’t you?”

Oh. That was all she was talking about.

Morgan felt his eyes glaze over, and he just about resisted the urge to roll them, as his attention went back down to his cereal and his phone. He probably could have pulled any face he liked, honestly. His mom was lost in her own little world. Just like she always was, when Announcement Day came around.

“Yes, mom,” he mumbled through a mouthful of Lucky Charms, eyes fixed on the Rockies’ twitter feed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her briefly glance straight at him, before looking just past him again.

“Have you talked to Collin yet?”

Morgan sighed, and scooped up another spoonful of cereal. Here we go again. The same old routine, four times a year. His brain worked on autopilot, as his words followed the script to a tee, because he knew exactly what his mom would say afterwards.

“Not yet, mom, I think he’s still asleep.”

“Maybe you two should. Y’know. Um. Hang out today. Or something.”

Morgan nodded, words bouncing off of him and vanishing, as he finished up his last spoonful of cereal and turning his phone off, placing it facedown on the table, the logo of the Colorado Rockies staring up at the ceiling.

“I’ll think about it,” he said, standing up and picking his bowl and spoon up, pushing the chair out from underneath him, scraping against the wooden floor of the dining room. His mom did the same, a chorus of low scraping echoing in the room. She pushed the chair back in, then stood with her hands resting on top of it, now definitely looking at him.

“I just… think it would be nice. Just in case… you know…”

She paused, and looked like she was about to say something, before instead scurrying off out of the room, like she wanted to be anywhere else in the world but there. Morgan watched her go, and stared at the open doorway for a moment. Then he let out a long sigh, shook his head, and walked into the kitchen to wash up.

---

Ten minutes later, Morgan found himself standing outside of Collin’s room. He could hear the sounds of whatever video game his brother was playing coming from inside. Probably Destiny. That was what he’d been playing most recently after all. Yeah, Morgan knew. He’d been paying attention over dinner, even if he tried not to show it. He knew all the things Collin was playing or watching right now. He couldn’t seem to help himself. It just got absorbed into his mind, like an old sponge he’d been meaning to throw away for years.

He realised, suddenly, that he was copying his mom. Standing, facing the door, but not looking at it. Staring intently at the wooden doorframe, intently studying the knots and the different shades of brown that made it up. Oh, it would be damn wonderful to not know why he was doing this. But he knew. He knew far too well, because he couldn’t look at Collin’s door whenever he passed by it, either.

Morgan’s fist was resting against the door, ready to knock, and a few inches above it was a drawing. One of Morgan’s drawings, a drawing of his brother’s World of Warcraft character. Collin had eagerly requested it… god, six, seven years ago? It had been stuck up there ever since, tape covering tape whenever it threatened to peel off and fall down.

Morgan shook his head slowly. He raised his fist, then let it fall to his side. Again. He sighed, quietly, then walked down the hallway towards his own room.

Another time, perhaps. There’d always be another time.