Chap­ter X begins with Henry’s reflec­tive dri­ve back home, a jour­ney that encap­su­lates his strained rela­tion­ship with the con­cept of “home” and the dynam­ics with­in his fam­i­ly. The dri­ve from New York City to New­burgh is not just a phys­i­cal tran­si­tion from one place to anoth­er, but a men­tal prepa­ra­tion for the com­plex emo­tions that come with return­ing to his fam­i­ly. This inter­nal strug­gle is height­ened by the long-stand­ing roles each fam­i­ly mem­ber plays in his life: David, the depend­able and struc­tured old­er broth­er; Muriel, the unpre­dictable and fiery pres­ence; and Hen­ry, who often feels like a mere shad­ow, float­ing between these dom­i­nant forces. As he nears the fam­i­ly gath­er­ing, Hen­ry men­tal­ly braces for the pre­dictable rit­u­al of famil­ial cri­tique and expec­ta­tion, a pat­tern that has shaped his expe­ri­ence with his fam­i­ly for years. This antic­i­pa­tion casts a shad­ow over the evening, as Hen­ry expects to con­front the same unspo­ken judg­ments and crit­i­cisms that have always defined his inter­ac­tions with his fam­i­ly.

How­ev­er, upon his arrival, the atmos­phere is star­tling­ly dif­fer­ent from what Hen­ry had antic­i­pat­ed. The usu­al under­cur­rent of ten­sion and judg­ment is nowhere to be found. Instead, his fam­i­ly greets him with an open­ness and warmth that feels com­plete­ly for­eign to him, cre­at­ing a sense of sur­re­al dis­so­nance. His fam­i­ly, includ­ing David and Muriel, express­es gen­uine sup­port and inter­est in his life, with­out the usu­al bar­rage of cri­tiques or neg­a­tive com­ments. When they ask about his cur­rent job man­ag­ing a book­shop in Brook­lyn and his past life choic­es, there is no under­ly­ing dis­ap­point­ment or dis­ap­proval. Instead, there’s a sense of pride and accep­tance that Hen­ry has nev­er encoun­tered before. The casu­al, sup­port­ive tone of the evening con­trasts sharply with the usu­al atmos­phere of unspo­ken dis­ap­point­ment that Hen­ry expects, leav­ing him to adjust to a new, unfa­mil­iar dynam­ic that feels both lib­er­at­ing and uncom­fort­able.

As the evening pro­gress­es, the con­ver­sa­tion remains unex­pect­ed­ly open and authen­tic. There are no long-wind­ed lec­tures or unso­licit­ed advice from his fam­i­ly members—just sin­cere inquiries into his well-being and a mutu­al exchange of respect. Even Muriel, typ­i­cal­ly the most crit­i­cal of the bunch, speaks with a new­found gen­tle­ness, show­ing gen­uine con­cern for Henry’s hap­pi­ness and future. This shift in their rela­tion­ship dynam­ic is espe­cial­ly evi­dent when, in a qui­et moment on the porch, Muriel dis­cuss­es his recent breakup with Tabitha with care and empa­thy. Hen­ry, for the first time in a long while, feels the full weight of their affec­tion with­out the usu­al under­tones of judg­ment. These moments reveal a side of his fam­i­ly that he’s nev­er seen before, a side that’s unbur­dened by the weight of past expec­ta­tions and dis­ap­point­ments. This unex­pect­ed ten­der­ness high­lights the poten­tial for deep­er, more mean­ing­ful con­nec­tions with­in the fam­i­ly, where hon­esty and vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty can exist with­out fear of judg­ment.

Despite the new­found warmth and sup­port from his fam­i­ly, Henry’s deeply ingrained skep­ti­cism remains. He’s unable to ful­ly embrace the affec­tion and open­ness on dis­play, still ques­tion­ing the authen­tic­i­ty of this shift in famil­ial dynam­ics. The dis­so­nance between the gen­uine love his fam­i­ly is offer­ing and his long-stand­ing expec­ta­tions of their dis­ap­proval leaves him emo­tion­al­ly con­flict­ed. The con­trast between what is hap­pen­ing in the present and what he’s come to expect over the years forces Hen­ry to reck­on with his own lim­i­ta­tions and emo­tion­al bar­ri­ers. In the end, this chap­ter cap­tures the com­plex­i­ties of fam­i­ly rela­tion­ships, par­tic­u­lar­ly the chal­lenges of rec­on­cil­ing past dis­ap­point­ments with the pos­si­bil­i­ty of growth and change. Through this inti­mate evening with his fam­i­ly, Hen­ry is con­front­ed with the oppor­tu­ni­ty for real con­nec­tion, but also with the dif­fi­cul­ty of break­ing free from the con­fines of old pat­terns. This explo­ration of famil­ial love, self-iden­ti­ty, and the long­ing for accep­tance illus­trates the emo­tion­al com­plex­i­ty of rela­tion­ships and the dif­fi­cul­ty of allow­ing one­self to be vul­ner­a­ble, even in the face of gen­uine sup­port.