The Celebration

Danny would have preferred to have gone anywhere else, with anyone else.  Alone in the back seat of the black Mercedes his father bought to be admired, he thought back to his earlier desperation to avoid this trip Every excuse made had been shot down, with sarcasm, of course Admittedly, claiming he needed to stay home to study was lame, considering his abysmal grades. Still, he would have chosen ten exams over his father’s sharp criticisms during the 2-hour drive – each way. Later, he regretted the pain inflicted on people he’d never even had a chance to meet before the inevitable dumpster fire erupted.

For two weeks, his mother hadn’t stopped complaining. Even her phrasing jangled his nerves, causing anxiety because it wasn’t a “funeral.”  The invitation announced “A Celebration of Life,” hosted by his uncle to honor Danny’s second cousin, whom he didn’t know. Oddly, his father’s side of the family was most familiar and yet mysterious. 

His mother resisted the whole idea. “I just don’t understand, Danny! Why would she want people crying over her before she's even dead? Why throw a party for yourself just to make everyone sad?”

Danny shrugged – same as the other five times she had asked him. “Some people just wanna hear their family and friends tell them they love them before they die, Mom.” 

No answer sufficed. Instead, she took it personally: “Well, don’t ever try to get me to sit in a room with people crying all over me! I’d never make a whole fuss about myself!” 

Danny rolled his eyes covertly, saying to himself: “Trust me. I won’t.” 

He had long been aware that his parents were shallow, callous people, which his mother’s unsympathetic comments just now confirmed. How ironic and disingenuous were their words, as compared to their actions. On the one hand, they claimed to dislike attention. On the other hand, their yearly family Christmas card was packed with heavily filtered photo layouts highlighting his father’s new car, lavish family vacations, and ostentatiously glamorous social life. 

As they drove east, Danny’s dread increased while his father griped about the “circle of life bullcrap” and needing to “show our faces” because “that’s what families do.” 

Danny knew there was tension between his parents and his uncle’s family – “between us and them,” as his mother put it. He never understood what she meant. He assumed she meant money, since most adult problems are about money. But that alone didn’t explain the apparent hatred between the two brothers. When pressed for information about the dying family member, his father went silent, eyes straight ahead. Danny figured he hadn’t even bothered to ask about her. 

Years later, his father made excuses for clamming up at the time, yelling, “You kept distracting me!  I had important things on my mind and my eyes were on the road! Everybody has it out for you when your car is nicer than theirs!” He added, “Those people don’t even have insurance to cover damage.”

With no street parking left, Danny couldn’t dissuade his father from purposefully taking up the entire empty (possibly reserved) driveway large enough for four cars. Shaking his head, he walked into what would become a debacle no one would ever forget..

The entire way there, Danny had tugged at the neck of the expensive, itchy, European sweater his mother had forced him to wear, the kind so scratchy it makes a 7-year-old boy dressing up for a winter school recital squirm uncomfortably. Only it wasn’t winter. Danny was 16, no longer willing to be his mom’s dress-up doll. And it was also an unseasonable 74 degrees on that April day. 

After almost three hours of driving past city traffic, they finally arrived, pulling into the narrow driveway to the left of the house. Danny was relieved to open the door and escape the oppressive atmosphere in the car and his parents’ weird silence, even though he did not look forward to getting out in the heat. 

Because of how badly his parents always spoke about this side of the family, Danny had made up his mind on the drive there that he would not behave like his parents, judging or being snobby, and that he would form his own impressions. That did not stop him from making a few observations, though. The gray paint on the small home was chipping, and what had not been chipped was fading fast. The metal fence they had driven past was riddled with dark maroon-colored rust and in some places completely cloaked by intertwining, withered vines and tall weeds competing with one another for more of the already limited space. 

The grass was discolored to a sickly yellow from not being watered enough, and severely overgrown. Danny noticed with surprise that it was practically up to his knee on the edge of the driveway when he first stepped out of the car. One of the first-floor windows on the side of the house near the driveway had been busted and taped with cardboard and silver duct tape, while shards of broken glass still lay on the ground, untouched. Thick moss and small weeds sprouted up between the deep cracks on the driveway pavement. 

It looked like there would be quite a few attendees. There were already cars parked bumper to bumper along both sides of the small street for 2 blocks, but no other car was parked in the driveway other than theirs. Even though the driveway could easily have accommodated four cars – two side-by-side in the front and two behind them – Danny’s father had parked in a way that ensured no other car could park next to or behind his. Danny knew exactly what his father was doing, but felt it was only right that he should say something anyway. “Maybe you should pull up more and over to the left some more, Dad. There isn’t enough room behind you or on the side for someone to park next to your car. I wonder if they’re reserving the driveway for someone.” Danny pointed out with a fatigued tone. 

“Yeah, that’s the point. I don't need any Honda Civics or Kias scratching this custom paint job,” his father said smugly, as he patted the car's hood heartily and affectionately, as if it were some prized war horse. Like always, Danny’s mother said nothing. 

  The three of them walked up the rickety wooden planks that served as haphazard steps to an even less convincing porch, which Danny felt could have been collapsed by a strong gust of wind. His mother’s eyes darted around her surroundings with caution as she gripped her Birkin bag more firmly, while his father adjusted his Rolex watch to make sure it would be visible to everyone as soon as they walked through the door. While they were getting ready to impress, Danny stepped up to the front door. He didn’t see a doorbell, so he respectfully tapped his knuckles firmly on the scratched wooden door a few times. Nothing. He was just about to tap once more when the door was swung open by a small child. 

“Who are you?” the child asked imperiously, with a plastic cup of fruit punch in her hand and annoyance in her eyes.

“We’re here for the Celebration of Life. Are we in the right place or . . .?” Before Danny could finish his question, the child had already turned on their heels and was impatiently pointing towards a hallway beyond the entrance without making any more eye contact, seemingly very bothered to be interrupted by pesky adults. “Everybody’s in there.” She waved her hand in a general direction. 

“Okay, thanks.” Danny flashed a polite smile and shuffled past the child – already walking away – and farther into the house, with his parents following right behind him, walking stiffly and looking around as though they had never been here before and danger lurked in every corner. 

Danny could hear the vague sound of classic rock music coming from the backyard and smelled the distinct aroma of barbeque and charcoal wafting from what appeared to be a dated-looking kitchen. Looking around the room, he saw that it appeared somewhat tidy, and he noticed a neat pile of shoes piled up on a large, shabby rug covering part of the worn wooden floor just inside the doorway. Danny quickly untied his dress shoes, which he realized were entirely too formal for a barbecue, especially compared to the high-top Converses, flats, flip-flops, and Crocs that were already piled in the motley collection. He looked at his mother and nodded towards the pile of shoes, which she seemed horrified to see and reluctant to contribute to, but eventually, reluctantly, she took off her red-bottomed heels and decided to carry them around with her, “in case someone decides to get something for nothing.” Danny’s father barely glanced at the pile with a sharp laugh and then bypassed it to continue stalking through the house without a second thought, as if he owned the place.

Following the child’s earlier imperious hand motion and the sounds of animated voices and laughter, they proceeded down the hallway as she had indicated, and into the living room. It was a small room painted a pale shade of blue. It had only one window by the screen door leading to the backyard, which was overrun with people. The drapes  appeared to have once been ivory, judging from uneven patches of color, but although they looked clean they were faded from long use and now stained to a perpetual muted yellow in some spots, perhaps from rain and dampness. 

Looking around, Danny vaguely recognized a few faces, but not many, and no names came to mind. No one seemed to recognize him, either. He thought about how much time had passed since he had actually seen his extended family, but the years had long ago meshed and flowed into one another,  until it was impossible to recall.

Involuntarily, Danny coughed and held his breath to evade suffocation by the heavy cigarette smoke hanging heavy in the air and  filling every crevice of the house. Every time he tried to quickly take in short bursts of oxygen to keep from passing out, he could feel a bitter taste move down into his throat, settling with a burning sensation. Scanning the room, he realized the main source of air pollution was a group of three older women chain-smoking on the couch, with full ashtrays and multiple packs of Marlboros stacked on the coffee table. 

The women looked strangely familiar. Danny racked his brain until he was able to recall their names: Maude, Lucille, and Joan. He remembered seeing them over the years because of their distinctive styles and mannerisms that had not changed much. Their names popped into his head all at once, even though he had no memory of when and where he had last seen them. 

Maude had a bush of messy black hair swooped into an enormous, unruly beehive and wore plentiful orange-red lipstick. Lucille’s chin-length gray hair was cut into a short, stylish bob, and she wore bright pink lipstick, while Joan, who looked about 60 years old, sported long, platinum blonde curls trailing down her shoulders and tumbling down her back. She wore  copious amounts of black mascara and dramatic, deep red lipstick, which gave the effect of an aging  movie starlet. Each woman confidently wore bright colors, eccentric patterns, and large necklaces and earrings. They were having a ball, laughing loudly with one another while talking excitedly and one-upping one another. They had obviously made themselves right at home. 

 Danny looked past them and glanced around the rest of the room. He then realized his parents were no longer with him. They had already begun making their rounds, pretending they knew people, even though it had probably been a decade since they had seen anyone here. Danny could hear his father’s voice booming down the hallway, trying to impress, while fake humble bragging. As always, they seemed utterly oblivious to the faint noises of polite disinterest they received in return.

 Figuring he would stay inside where at least a few people were familiar, Danny settled down in the corner of a plastic-covered couch, trying his hardest to think of a subtle way to cover his mouth from the smoke without appearing rude. While thinking of how he could breathe  without awkwardness, he noticed a girl who appeared to be around his same age standing nearby, talking easily with the three women he had recognized earlier. 

She was younger than almost everyone else in the crowded indoor space. Something about her face seemed very familiar, but he could not decipher how he knew her. Danny noticed how calm she appeared and how natural this gathering all seemed to be for her, as she fit right in with Maude, Lucille and Joan, laughing and joking. Their easy camaraderie reminded him how completely out of place he looked and how disconnected he felt. While everyone else seemed to have gotten the memo that this was a casual, well-meaning, and fond get-together, his parents had instead treated the special occasion as nothing more than another opportunity to gaudily display their wealth by overdressing tactlessly and taking up all the space by showcasing themselves. 

As the girl with the familiar face  laughed and joked with Maude, Joan, and Lucille, Danny imagined their humor probably involved inside family jokes and  would never understand or appreciate.Yet when he saw the girl suddenly look directly at him, Danny instinctively looked away in the other direction. He silently wondered if he looked familiar to her, too. 

It just so happened that she did know who Danny was: he was her first cousin on her dad’s side – the branch of the family tree she had never gotten to know, mostly because her father had intentionally kept her apart from them so she would never get to know them. She had been standing with her favorite aunts in what she thought was a “safe zone” because, from the time she heard the celebration was being planned, she had silently predicted a storm between the two nuclear families. From the moment her father had learned a week ago that his brother and sister-in-law would be coming to the Celebration of Life, he had yelled for hours about how disrespectful it was to the rest of the family for them to “suddenly show up, out of the blue.” He had been raging about it ever since. “He didn’t even know the woman! He has never reached out or offered her any help, not even with her medical bills, even though he has all that money. But now he wants to come to my house so he can judge me? I don’t want them in my house!”

His daughter tried calmly intervening: “Isn’t it possible they just want to be a part of the family and to pay their respects while she’s still here? We’re all going to be there, why can’t he come, too? If he didn’t come, you would be mad about that, too.” She gave a deep, weary sigh. She had been making the same argument for days, to no avail

Her father spit back, his face turning red from fury and exasperation. “You say that now, but he’ll be judging you too, Emma. Think about that and whether you want him around our family, with his nose in the air and making crappy comments about everybody and everything, including you! You won’t be so quick to defend him once he starts going in on you, too! NOBODY is good enough for His Royal Highness and his royal family!” 

Suddenly, her mother shouted at her husband from the other room, despite having tried her hardest not to after having promised herself she would not get involved in this ancient feud. “Sit down and stop all this yelling! It’s not good for your heart or your blood pressure for you to be this angry all the time.” 

Emma responded to her father with mild frustration. “You talk about him like he isn’t family just because he doesn’t live close to us.” He answered with a condescending glare.“No, I talk about him because I know what he is. And none of it is good!” Emma sighed and sat down across from him before asking the question he had never answered directly, and that she knew would launch the two of them straight into a huge argument, again:“What did he even do to you? You never even say anything specific!”

Her father turned his head towards her slowly, as if she had stabbed him with a cold dagger directly in his back, “Why are you on his side? He discarded the entire family! He acted like we didn’t exist. Like we’re trash!” 

“That’s a funny way of saying he left for college.” She retorted swiftly and sarcastically, while still avoiding eye contact.

“No, he could have left for college and stayed close, just like I did. But, no! He wanted to go to some fancy university and never came back home again other than to show off. He thinks going away to school made him so much better than the rest of us. He only cared about himself and abandoned everything that needed to be done around here to keep things going. We didn’t hear a word from him no matter how hard things got here at home. But then he shows up only to show off. Any other time he acts like he’s ashamed of us!”

“Is this how you’ll act and talk about me when I leave for college?” At this point she didn’t even attempt to hide her frustration with this conversation and how annoyed she was with what she considered his  nonsense. 

“No, because you’re going to a state school.” His firm tone and timbre in making this pronouncement without her input made it clear he didn’t expect disagreement.

Rather than declare war, she withdrew from the conversation by remaining silent, realizing that sane, respectful communication with him was a lost cause. At the end of the day she wasn’t going to let him decide or bully her. Saying so would only make things worse. First of all, it would do no good to tell him that what she had once thought amusing about his grudge against his brother was not at all funny. Secondly, she also knew that if she had chosen to continue the conversation, she would have heatedly informed her father that she had no intention of going to an in-state school, or to any school within even a few hundred miles of him, for that matter. But since he seemed to already be on the verge of a stroke and she had no intentions of helping plan another celebration of life anytime soon, she decided to drop it. 

For now.

She had already decided, long before they even got to the party, that she would make sure she was not anywhere near her father when the inevitable reunion blow-up between the two brothers came to pass.  Instead, she deliberately sat with her great-aunts and spent her time fetching whatever they wanted, which was mostly just cigarettes. Emma found the arrangement funny the first few times she watched them go through whole packs she had retrieved for them, but the amusement eventually wore off. Instead of lecturing them, however, she decided to just suck it up – literally, considering all that smoke – and just enjoy their eccentric company, like she always did. 

Imperceptively, she had noticed out of the corner of her eye, how out of place her cousin appeared the moment he first walked into the living room. He was overdressed, which she could tell bothered him, as he kept fussing uncomfortably with the neck of what looked like a hot, scratchy sweater. She recalled hazy memories of the two of them playing as kids, away from their fathers. She remembered how easily they got along, but then again most people do when they are kids and uninfluenced by adults and their biases. He looked about the same as he had when they were younger, just taller. They also shared similar facial features, including their distinctive eye color and mouth shape. 

She wondered if Danny also knew how ridiculous all of this drama between their fathers was. She wanted to know whether he felt he had been cheated out of the opportunity for them to get to know each other and become good friends—all because their fathers had decided they were sick of knowing each other and being brothers. 

She saw and empathized with his discomfort. Perhaps better than anyone she understood perfectly the feeling of being misplaced, unheard and unknown, even in front of those considered “family.” For a brief moment, she thought about reintroducing herself to Danny, to try to remind him of who she was, in case he had forgotten, as she was sure he must have. But in her peripheral vision, she could see and feel the weight of her father’s burning glare. He, too, had noticed his nephew’s arrival, which surely meant his brother was somewhere nearby right now, upstaging him in his own house. 

Unaware of all that was brewing, Danny sat silently and uncomfortably on the edge of an ottoman, vainly attempting to seem right at home, making himself seem busy checking and quickly dismissing notifications on his phone, and plastering an interested, desperate smile on his face whenever anyone made eye contact, causing them to smile back, even while pitying him. He faked being consumed with watching “The Price is Right” playing on the television set that had not been replaced since the 1980s. 

From the corner of his eye, he saw the familiar girl talking with the three women. “One more pack of cigarettes, Em. I promise, only one more. I gave away most of the cigs you got me the other day while we were playing cards last night,” the older woman said with a sly smile.

“You said that 3 packs ago, AuntieMaude. And you probably lost them in a poker game. How about some iced tea instead?” Emma replied with a gentle smile that showed  underlying concern.

“Well, I didn’t mean it then, but I do now. And besides, it’s not like I was gambling my Social Security away!” Maude cracked herself up so hard with her own joke that she started coughing.

Emma could no longer hide her fear. “You know those things aren’t good for you, Auntie; they are only going to make you sick.” 

Auntie Maude gasped sarcastically, saying in an exaggerated tone, “Really?! No one’s ever told me that!” 

Emma playfully rolled her eyes, “Well, you can’t blame me for trying to remind you. I really do think you forget sometimes.” 

Her aunt waved her off and simply responded with, “I know exactly what these things do,” as she casually, unapologetically knocked the loose embers from the butt of her umpteenth cigarette. “I’ve made my peace with it. You should, too.” 

Emma shrugged before saying,  mischievously, “Well excuse me for trying to keep you alive!” 

“Oh, I’m gonna die one day no matter what, so I’d rather die with a good cigarette in my hand.”

Emma smiled before leaving the room to track down another pack for her, deciding this would actually be her last time as an accomplice. On her way towards the door she saw her cousin again, clearly bored but doing his best to appear engaged. She wondered about the kind of person he was now. She only had vague memories of when they were about five, which were barely tangible. She remembered him being kind and funny, but her father had decided long ago that even though he spent no time at all talking to Danny the child, he somehow knew him better than she did. He insisted he was spoiled, snooty and selfish. She, however, knew that Danny had been none of those things. Instead, her father had prejudged and predetermined that  Danny was “just like his father.”

Family members often commented on the fact that the feuding brothers looked strikingly similar, to the point that the resemblance was evident even from across the room. They shared the same olive skin, dark auburn hair, sharp noses, and flaring tempers. Emma hoped that on such a sensitive occasion they would both want to avoid conflict and wouldn’t create a scene. She had just made a move towards her cousin to reintroduce herself when she heard an all-too-familiar voice shouting from another room. At the same time, Danny’s head also turned towards the noise. Like Emma, he knew exactly who it was without being in the same room. Already, a stillness was falling over the crowd, and a blanket of shocked silence smothered the room at the loud, inappropriate outburst.

“Damn it! You’re the last person who gets to criticize me! You don’t get to tell me what I supposedly did wrong! You’re just mad because you’ve never done anything worthwhile your entire miserable life!” 

There were quite a few gasps in the room in the seconds before it was filled with more yelling, this time in a different voice. “That’s your problem! You don't even know what ‘worth’ is unless it comes in a financial statement you think makes you important! I would much rather be exactly who and where I am than anything like you! You’re nothing but a heartless, money-grubbing grifter who turns your back on family the minute it gets too inconvenient or messy! There is nothing for you to be so proud of stuck up about!”

The response was fast, and savage. “Don’t act like you were so supportive. I gave up on this family the minute you decided that just because you were nothing, I had to be nothing right alongside you.”

Emma could feel the blood draining from her cheeks as a hot wave of embarrassment and shame hit her. She had always assumed her father was protective and that explained why he was hesitant about her going to college somewhere far away from home. But the moment she heard her uncle yell accusations at her father, a terrible notion crossed her mind. It hurt her to think it about coming from her own father, yet it made perfect sense. 

Her father wanted her to be nothing, just like him. 

“Really? That’s what you think?” Emma’s father shouted, his face fully red and his knuckles clenched tightly into fists as he approached his brother. 

Danny’s father threw his hands in the air before screaming his final verbal blow, “You just can’t stand it that I did something with my life when you never could. You’re just a nobody!” 

A painful silence followed. To Danny, it felt like years of accumulated rage had just erupted in a flood, ruining everything it had touched in those few minutes. For the onlookers who only vaguely knew about the brothers’ feud but none of the particulars, the cruel outbursts were shocking, leaving everyone frozen in place and unsure what would happen next, or how to stop it.  Out of breath and ignoring the loud silence their angry words had created and the full attention they had drawn, the brothers simply glared at one another, still enraged. 

Both seemed unconcerned by the ugliness they had spewed at such a solemn occasion. Neither seemed to notice that the guest of honor was crying softly. 

Both stood with feet planted, and faces practically identical, childhoods intertwined, and life circumstances that used to be equal –  until they no longer were. Danny studied his father’s face for a long moment, desperately searching  for a twinge of guilt or a sign of regret.. There was none. Danny saw nothing but pride and self-righteousness. That’s all.

He turned his gaze back to his uncle, hoping he would say something, anything, that would prove him wrong in concluding that it was his father’s arrogance and antagonism that had caused this fiasco. Danny was nauseated with embarrassment caused by his father’s decision to center himself in the midst of what was meant to be a celebration of life for his uncle’s wife. 

Finally, his uncle did speak, sounding like he was choking on angry tears,  in a voice that held tired resignation. “I can’t stand that you parade through here like you’re doing charity work. I can’t stand that you block a whole driveway, that isn’t even yours, just to park some tacky Mercedes you needed to show off to feel like a big man. I can’t stand the fact that because you make different money from us, you think it makes you a better, different, more special kind of person. Too bad your money never bought you a soul. There isn’t enough in the entire world to give you what you need the most. You are empty inside. There is nothing there. No soul. I almost feel sorry for you that you have to make other people feel bad to try to feel good about yourself.” 

Danny had a horrible thought, something he would never admit to anyone, but that was impossible to ignore. He could see the other side of the coin. He deeply understood his uncle’s anger, his pain over losing his family, and his deep resentment towards his father for not caring enough to look back. He finally accepted that maybe his father was just not a decent person and, even worse, that he was okay with that and would never see himself in the bad light that other people saw him. He just mowed over other people. And he probably always would.

Finally, the brothers turned away from one another, weary, with hands unclenched. They were worn out, but still angry and frustrated. Nothing they felt about each other had changed. The crowd stared in shock, some with twisted curiosity and also nosiness. The cold war everyone in the family knew existed had finally erupted, as they had always predicted. And yet the ugly conflict remained just as unresolved as it had always been. 

Separately, but simultaneously, Danny and Emma both realized that was clearly howthings were  meant to be. 

The crowd dispersed as they tried to break the uncomfortable silence by turning the music back on and forcing conversation. But the party atmosphere was gone. It was clear all the words that were meant to be said between the two brothers had already been spoken and that their relationship was broken beyond repair. There would be no apologies, for forgiveness and no smoothing things over. 

Danny’s father said nothing to anyone before stomping out the door. Slightly embarrassed by being left behind in the room, Danny’s mother hastily waved goodbyes in everyone’s general direction while putting her shoes back on and hurrying out the door behind her husband.  Meanwhile, he was standing next to his Mercedes, carefully and calmly checking for scratches, which he was relieved not to find. Inside the house, Danny still stood frozen as he watched Emma’s father trudge back to his bedroom tiredly, shoulders hunched down, before slamming the door behind him. Other family members and celebration guests who had been horrified now began to move outside, so they could freely gossip about what they had just witnessed. 

Finally, the only two left standing in the room were the first cousins. Both were racked with guilt. Neither realized that each had chosen to side with their father’s enemy. Each wished in the back of their minds that they could be the other. 

Both understood their paths and their relationship as cousins had been cemented, and their pathways closed, long before they had been able to choose for themselves. Exhausted and defeated, they were too embarrassed to exchange a word. Instead,  each returned to their own father, already regretting they had never had the chance to speak to each other again as family and former playmates, never knowing that if they had to choose both would choose the other side.

© 2025 Emerson Chontos. All Rights Reserved.