As the holidays approached, the various companies in the office park began to shut down one by one. This left the remaining employees distracted and restless, so Nick decided to just start the break early. There was no point in making everyone suffer through the grind when their minds were already halfway home.
But with Christmas and New Year's around the corner—a rare time for family reunions—Nick found himself nursing a growing headache. As he'd gotten older, the relationship between him and his father had become increasingly volatile.
Even though his stepmother was a perfectly decent woman, Nick could never quite find a sense of belonging in that house. Last year, he'd used a holiday job as an excuse to bail, and now that the season was back, he was feeling hesitant all over again.
For anyone living away from home, the holidays usually spark a longing for family, but the second he imagined the inevitable arguments and the suffocating tension with his father, any desire to book a flight evaporated.
"You're really not going back this year?" Tyler asked as he walked into Nick's place—a modest 19th-floor apartment in a public housing complex. He was carrying a few takeout containers and a high-end bottle of bourbon.
Since Nick lived alone and the lab projects had been a total whirlwind lately, he rarely used the apartment for anything other than a place to crash.
Nick helped clear the coffee table for the food, shaking his head. "I'm thinking about heading to Nashville. Terry and the guys are still there on site, so I figured I'd go over and show some support during the break."
"That's BS. They're there to do some field work; what are you going to do, hover over them?" Tyler unscrewed the cap and poured Nick a glass, trying to talk sense into him. "Listen to me, go home for the holidays. At the very least, go for Christmas dinner. You haven't seen them in two years, man. What kind of grudge is worth that?"
Nick usually kept his family drama under wraps. Tyler only knew the details because of one particularly nasty phone fight Nick had with his father a while back. Feeling like total crap, Nick had dragged Tyler out for drinks and poured his heart out. That night had cemented their friendship, which was why Tyler was the first person Nick called when he decided to start the company.
Nick raised his glass, clinked it against Tyler's, and took a long sip. "You know the situation. They're a happy little family of three now. Why should I show up and ruin the vibe?"
"Come on, eat something," Tyler said, grabbing a fork. "Is it really just about not wanting to call her 'Mom'? Do you have to be that stubborn? By all accounts, your stepmother has been great to you. Just get over it, man"
"She is great, but I just can't say it," Nick said helplessly, picking at his food. "It's not like I have a problem with her personally. They didn't even meet until long after my mom passed away. She's never treated me like anything less than her own. But in my heart, I only have one mother. I can respect her, I can take care of her, but I just can't bring myself to use that word."
It was a hurdle he couldn't clear, and every time the subject came up, it ended in a blow-up with his father. To avoid the conflict, Nick had spent every moment since middle school living in dorms or apartments. Over time, he'd simply stopped going back.
Of course, he'd thought about making peace, but every time they met, they were at each other's throats within two minutes. The more time he spent away, the more he convinced himself it wasn't a big deal—until the holidays hit, and the buried guilt started to gnaw at him.
"You can't keep hiding forever," Tyler said, patting his stomach as he leaned back. "You're sitting here in an empty room feeling miserable, and they're sitting at home feeling even worse, just wishing their son would walk through the door."
Nick raised his glass again. "Let's just drop it. Cheers."
"Slow down, man. You're hitting that pretty hard," Tyler said, though he clinked glasses and finished his drink anyway.
While refilling the glasses, Tyler asked, "By the way, how's Zack doing lately?"
Nick glanced at him and smiled. "He's improved. He's starting to realize where he fits in the hierarchy, and his attitude is much better."
"Good. You know how he is—he gets a little ego the second things go right. But we've been through a lot together; he deserves a chance to fix it." Tyler added, "I told him straight up: if he screws up again, he's out."
"How'd he take that?" Nick asked, intrigued.
"How do you think? He looked like I'd slapped him. He almost lost it, but once I laid out the reality of the situation, he shut up. We're friends, but some lines have to be drawn, or it'll bite us later. Terry's always been much smarter about that."
"Yeah, Terry's a good man. Reliable," Nick agreed. Compared to Zack, Terry was much simpler—a classic engineering geek who lived for his hobbies and stayed out of the office politics.
Since Nick had put Terry in charge of the drone tech, the kid had been living out of a suitcase. He was currently stuck in Nashville with the technical team, handling a massive drone light show for a televised holiday special.
The production team wanted to showcase a blend of traditional southern charm and high-tech modernism, and after seeing what Nick's team did in Miami, they'd paid a fortune to fly them in.
Since Nick was tied up, Terry had to be the man on the ground. That was why Nick wanted to visit him—it felt wrong making the team work through the holidays so far from home.
But as Tyler pointed out, Terry had it under control. Nick showing up might just get in the way. It was probably better to stay clear and just make sure everyone got a massive bonus and some extra vacation time when the project wrapped. That was the kind of appreciation that actually mattered.
The two of them sat there, drinking and talking, falling back into the easy rhythm they'd had since college. Back then, they were broke, drinking cheap beer paired with a bag of peanuts and some gas station sausages.
Those nights usually ended with a rough stomach and a massive hangover. Now that they had the money for the good stuff, they were both too busy to actually enjoy it. This was a rare, quiet moment of normalcy.