Perfect
by Robert Reese, 2003
He had put on charcoal Brioni trousers, a light cashmere Burberry turtleneck, matching Prada black ostrich-skin belt and shoes (with silver buckle and clasps), and set his full length, white Gucci overcoat on the bed. He went to the dresser and opened the top drawer, taking out his silver Cartier watch, two silver dollars, stainless steel cigarette case, and black leather Jaguar key chain. After putting the watch on, he went back into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. His hair was perfect, his skin smooth, teeth pearly white, nails neatly manicured. But something was wrong. He looked closer and noticed that his eyes were puffy. With only slight concern, he squeezed some blue under-eye gel into his hand and massaged it into the pouches below his eyes. He returned to his room and grabbed his engraved platinum money-clip (to James, love Mom & Dad, 1993) and slid it into his pocket. He did not count the money.
James picked his overcoat from off the bed and went into the lobby. He locked the deadbolt and the double checked that it had latched. The elevator arrived, empty and quiet, and took him down to the garage. He stepped out and greeted the valet with a methodic "Merry Christmas."
"And to you also, sir. Which car will you be driving today?"
"The Jaguar."
His black, freshly waxed XK8 rolled up momentarily and the valet emerged, holding the door open with his white cloth gloves. James got in and was surrounded by the luxury of the wood-inlayed console and heated leather seats. He left it in first until the garage door opened, then shifted to second and accelerated up onto the frosty street. It had been snowing the entire weekend. He saw a newsstand with a newspaper headlined "White Christmas." He pressed Power on the stereo and turned the volume up to 15. He stopped for a red light and looked off to his left. There was a billboard advertising Smirnoff Black Label. He pulled the cigarette case out of his coat pocket and lit a cigarette and decided that he would have to stop to get some espresso before he got there. The drive to his parents' cabin took just over three hours. There was little traffic, probably because of the snow and because it was still early in the morning. But, he did not notice. He just drove.
His brother was sitting on the front steps when he arrived, smoking a cigar. Their greeting was cordial, but not warm. James opened the door and went inside. His mother came out from the kitchen with her apron on and, of course, her pearls. His father got up from his recliner and set a hand on James' shoulder saying, "Good to see you, son."
"You too, Dad." He gave his father a hug and kissed his mother on the cheek, then glanced around the room. Nothing had changed, it never did. The silver candlestick holders were out on the dining room table, along with four table settings of the imported china that his parents received as a wedding gift. The old grandfather clock began chiming. It was eleven o'clock.
"The turkey will be ready in about an, dear. Make yourself comfortable," his mother said before hurrying back to the kitchen to check on the sweet potatoes.
His father had already returned to his recliner. "Come watch the game, son."
"I better go clean up a bit. It was a long drive."
"All right. You're missing a hell of a game though," his father said before returning his attention to the punt return.
James went into the bathroom, looked in the mirror and saw that his eyes were still puffy. As he stared, a tear slowly rolled down his cheek. It surprised him at first; he didn't know why it fell, or the tears after it. But slowly he began to realize that he was crying only because no one would know that he was.