What's Life Without the Sprinkles?

by Simon, Misty

  What exactly had he given up all those years ago? And would he ever be able to get the boy’s face out of his head? Did he want to? Did he deserve to? The child looked healthy. Peter continued to stare at the miniature version of himself, so similar to how he’d looked almost twenty years ago.

  When he first pulled into the driveway at his sister’s house, he’d remained in the car for a moment and rested his head on the steering wheel. He didn’t want to go in and face Claudia, much less the boy. He couldn’t even bring himself to call the boy his son. Because he wasn’t.

  Peter may have donated the sperm, but he’d never been a father. How could he face the woman he’d professed to love and then left?

  He’d grabbed the bags in the back seat and exited the car. He would face her the same way he’d faced business associates through the years. He wasn’t a coward. At least he wasn’t anymore.

  And if she wouldn’t even look at him, he’d deal with it. He’d bluff his way through. But now that he was faced with both Claudia and the boy, he didn’t think bluffing was going to do him any good.

  “You can put the stuff away.” May gave him back the bags.

  Everyone else left the room en masse, no one speaking except for the boy’s chattering. He had never felt more alone in a crowd.

  “Make sure you stash the cheese and whatever else you got into the refrigerator. Oh, and thanks for picking everything up,” May said as he continued to stand there, the bags dangling from his hands. “I have this one last tray to set out, and then we’re ready to eat.”

  “Okay.”

  Something about his one-word response must have hit her wrong, because she put the tray down and really looked at him. She grabbed his chin and turned his head from side to side. “I know that was hard, and I wish there had been more preparation. Are you going to be all right? Did anything happen while you were out?”

  “I simply went to the grocery store, May. I’ll be fine.” He ducked behind the refrigerator door, not wanting her to be able to see his face. He’d stay in here forever if he could, to avoid looking her in the eyes right now. He’d been in front of a woman and baby in the grocery store line earlier. He’d made it through the line with his purchases and paid from his wallet, where there weren’t any pictures of the child he’d helped create. The woman behind him was gushing about her newborn and had nearly an accordion file of those plastic inserts to hold wallet-sized photos, all of them filled.

  “Isn’t he the cutest thing?” she’d said. “I mean, the birth was hard and all, but to hold him in my arms, to snuggle him—it’s the best feeling in the whole wide world.”

  He’d gathered his two plastic bags as she pulled an envelope out of her bag and removed more pictures, putting them on the little panel normally used for signing credit card receipts. The cashier cooed over each new image, and Peter walked out of the grocery store with their words ringing in his ears. The encounter had haunted him the whole way back to the house.

  “You can talk to me, you know,” May said now, tugging on the back of his belt.

  “It was nothing.”

  “It wasn’t ‘nothing’ if you won’t even look at me. It’s also not ‘nothing’ if you’re not telling me to stop pulling on your fancy dress pants because it will ruin the perfect crease.”

  She had him there, but now wasn’t the time to bring all this churning up. “Can we talk about it later?” It would at least appease her until he could figure out how to broach a subject he had never let her talk about to him.

  “Look at me first.”

  “I’m trying to put the groceries away. Don’t you have guests to see to?”

  But apparently she wasn’t falling for it. He hadn’t heard her leaving the room, and he felt silly with his head all but buried in the cake sitting on the top shelf. Backing out, he turned slowly to face his sister, someone he’d shared all his secrets with until he’d started dating Claudia.

  “Do you promise to talk later?” She folded her hands at her stomach and gave him an unblinking stare.

  “Yes, I promise. I will speak with you about it later. After everyone has gone.” Especially Claudia. God, how was he going to face her at the table? And the child would probably sit right next to her. Should he try to pull her aside and find out what the boy knew before they sat down? Maybe Peter would simply stay in the kitchen all afternoon.

  But there was May, tugging him into the next room with one hand while her other balanced the tray of lettuce, tomato, onions, and pickles. He came along willingly, not wanting to ruin the food. He could handle this. He was a professional. He’d been through uncomfortable meetings before. He could suck it up, be in an awkward position, without a single person knowing for sure that he wasn’t fine.

  This would be no different. Except it was, as soon as he cleared the door, came into the dining room where everyone congregated, and saw Claudia again. She looked exactly as she had in high school, full of vibrancy and life. A spark of light in a room crowded with shadows.

  Her sister Zoe raised an eyebrow to him when she saw his gaze stay on Claudia. She shook her head at him, and almost looked smug. But a part of him broke off and dissipated, knowing Claudia was here but would most likely avoid him for the whole time.

  And if she didn’t have a ring on and was here by herself, did it mean she was still available? He hadn’t heard that she’d married or was dating anyone seriously. But then again, he hadn’t asked. He didn’t think May would have kept that kind of information to herself, though.

  He didn’t have time to dwell on that horrible path for long, since Brad came up and clapped him on the shoulder and began talking stocks and bonds. This conversation he could understand and participate in. The one scheduled with May later this evening had the spit drying up in his mouth.

  ****

  “Are you going to be okay?” Zoe slipped a hand into Claudia’s and squeezed as they sat on the couch in May’s living room.

  Taking stock, Claudia nodded. Sure, she’d put on thirty pounds since high school. Originally she’d called it the baby fat left over from her pregnancy, but she highly doubted she could still claim the same thing after ten years. Her fat was as old as her son. Jeez, that was nothing if not severely depressing.

  But she’d be fine. There was something almost surreal about being in the same room with Peter after so long, but she’d survive. “I’m fine. I should probably go say hello to him so we don’t have to circle each other all afternoon.”

  “I think that’s a bad idea. He should have to come to you.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s what you think. And since I’m the one who has to live with it, I think I should go with my gut instinct.” She set her cup on an end table and straightened her skirt, watching Brad and Peter talking near the other couch across the room. May’s dad sat in an easy chair, drifting between sleep and wakefulness.

  It would be easier to do this on her own terms and surrounded by the people of her choosing rather than be caught off guard. And she still smarted from the conversation she’d tried to have with Justin earlier.

  Surprisingly, Justin hadn’t yet come in from the game room in the basement to ask where he was. In fact, her son hadn’t even responded to Peter in the kitchen, other than to say, “Excuse me.” At least he’d used his manners, which wasn’t always a sure thing, and hadn’t embarrassed her into thinking she’d raised a hooligan.

  Before she could lose her courage, she lifted her chin and walked across the room, trying not to think about how she felt more like she was waddling. She hadn’t been a skinny thing at seventeen, and at twenty-eight she certainly wasn’t. She sensed Zoe close on her heels but ignored her. It would be hard enough to do this without clinging to her younger, hostile sister.

  The small expanse of carpet in May’s living room had never seemed bigger. It was like one of those nightmares where you can’t seem to get to the end of the hall because it continues to stretch out in front of you. But finally she did make it over to Peter. His back was tur
ned to her, and she studied the hairline at the back of his neck. It looked freshly shaven, with a thin strip of white skin under the close-cut hair. She used to trace her fingers just there when they sat at football games and froze in the winter. It was always exposed by his knit caps. She wasn’t sure what it meant that she felt nothing at the memory but a brief surge of nostalgia.

  She shook her head slightly to clear it of the image that wouldn’t do any good in helping her get through the next several minutes. At least there wasn’t an inch-wide strip of naked skull where the hair plugs had not been put in right. Although it might have been easier to do this if Peter had turned into a frumpy, pudgy old man in the last ten years.

  She tried to steel herself against looking into Peter’s face and seeing her son in twenty or so years. From pictures of Peter as a boy, she knew Justin looked very like his father at this age. If nothing else, at least she knew her boy was going to be good-looking when he was older.

  And she’d stalled long enough. “Hello, Peter.”

  Chapter Six

  After what felt like an eternity, Peter finally turned around. She hadn’t spent the time to look anywhere else than at his eyes, in the kitchen. And that had felt more like a tractor beam she couldn’t disengage from than anything she actually wanted to be a part of. Claudia hadn’t seen any pictures of him in years. May knew better than to bring them out. Or bring him up, for that matter. He was the tabooest of subjects.

  So she still had a picture of him in her head as an eighteen-year-old with bronzed skin, dark hair, and perfect smile that could turn her knees to jelly across the cafeteria table.

  And there wasn’t much different about him now. He’d filled out a little, had more of a man’s body, but the smile was still there, the bronzed skin was still kissed by the sun, and the dark hair didn’t contain a single strand of gray. Thank God she’d gotten her hair dyed last week and her knees were rock solid.

  “Claudia.”

  And his voice was still as sinful as ever. It slid over her skin and down her throat. Damn it. Nate. She’d think about Nate and forget the smile. But she couldn’t even pull up a decent picture of Nate in her mind now. She was surprised she’d remembered his name. Her knees would not turn to jelly now if they knew what was good for them. Finally an image popped into her mind, the one with Nate and his shirt halfway up that scrumptious belly the other day. The forced smile on her face relaxed a half inch.

  And then they did the awkward dance—Do you give a hug? Kiss the air next to his cheek? Shake hands? Keep ten feet between you? God, this was killing her.

  She settled on a hybrid—the one-armed hug. But Peter was attempting the very same thing and ended up getting a handful of her boob.

  She jumped back faster than she thought she could possibly move and blushed to the roots of her hair.

  He, on the other hand, smirked and looked just like the old Peter, sure he could get everything in the world handed to him on the platter without any work or investment in anything other than himself.

  “Well, it was nice seeing you.” She started to walk away and realized she couldn’t go any farther than the kitchen. The joke was on her. She couldn’t duck out of lunch before lunch even happened, couldn’t leave May in the lurch. So she’d have to buck it up.

  “Zoe, could I see you in the kitchen?” If she had to be in the house, she’d make sure it wasn’t right near him. Certainly something must need to be done before they all sat down at the table and acted like one big happy family.

  “Right behind you.”

  Taking careful steps back across the living room, which seemed to have grown even larger, she heard May talking in a low voice to Peter and then a solid thwack when she smacked him in the back of the head. Claudia barely contained a snicker and wondered when the hell her life had become this insane weirdness.

  “Well, that went well, don’t you think?” Zoe yanked open the refrigerator, dove inside and came up triumphant. She tore into a crisp carrot like she was taking off someone’s head.

  “Yeah, that wasn’t uncomfortable at all. And you were a real big help. Thanks.” Claudia searched without any luck for something, anything, to do. “You could have at least said hello.”

  After slamming the refrigerator door with more force than necessary, Zoe gave Claudia a hard look with glittering eyes. “If you really thought I was going to say hi to that man and give him a hug, you are completely off your rocker. I barely could promise May I’d be civil. Hugs were so not on the list.”

  Claudia couldn’t help it. All the tension, all the stress, all the anticipation of the first time she talked to Peter again after so many years came bubbling out in near-hysterical laughter. She gripped the counter as the sound came rolling out in waves. She accepted the paper towel Zoe gave her and mopped at her eyes, no longer sure if she was laughing or crying.

  For her part, Zoe came over and wrapped an arm around Claudia’s shoulders. “I know it was hard for you, but I think you did a wonderful job and had a lot of class. You knocked him for a loop.”

  “I’ll say.” May’s voice made Claudia jump back from the comfort of Zoe’s arms.

  Feeling guilty when she shouldn’t, Claudia wrung her hands in front of her. “I...um...just thought there might be something I could do to get things ready for the lunch. Thought I’d come check out the kitchen and see what I could do to help.” But when Claudia looked around the spotless kitchen with its blindingly white appliances and fancy café curtains done in red and white, she knew there was nothing here for her but shelter.

  “You’ll say what?” Zoe’s chin took on the belligerent set she used to wear when their mother told her curfew was at ten, no exceptions.

  May took her time staring at the two of them, and Claudia saw the storm brewing in her eyes. This could go from bad to worse in two seconds flat if she didn’t step in and play peacekeeper. “Hi, May, thanks for not making that awkward.”

  Obviously it was the wrong thing to say, because May’s normally warm brown eyes took on the temperature of rock-hard chocolate ice cream. “I didn’t have to make it awkward. But I think someone else was doing a damn fine job of turning that around.” She threw a stack of napkins onto the big butcher block island and stomped around the kitchen to the refrigerator. She yanked it open, much like Zoe had, and attacked another poor carrot, again much like Zoe. Two years younger than Claudia and one older than Zoe, May had always been the bridge over the gap in the sisters’ ages when they were younger. This had to be hard for her, too.

  “I’m sorry, May. I didn’t mean to sound flippant. I didn’t know what it was going to be like to be in the same room as Peter again after all this time. I was simply saying that I was glad it didn’t involve yelling or crying. That’s all.”

  “I’m sure it would have been different if left up to this one.” She hooked a thumb at Zoe and decapitated the poor carrot with her teeth.

  Zoe visibly bristled. Claudia could almost see the hair standing up on the back of her neck like some cat being confronted by a dog. Not that Claudia would share that image with anyone outside her own mind. It didn’t flatter either one of them.

  “Down, Zoe. I can handle this myself.” Claudia walked around to the other side of the island and gently took the carrot out of May’s hand. She didn’t want this to escalate to a point where none of them could be comfortable around each other. Especially since they all worked together. They’d had their tiffs before, but nothing like the potential this had to become an all-out war.

  She walked May over to where Zoe stood rigid and made them face her, next to each other. “I’m going to say this once, and then I don’t think I ever want to say it again. I want both of you to know that I love you. And I love my son. And I love our store and the beautiful work we do together. Up until this point, we haven’t ever discussed Peter or even let him into a conversation peripherally because I think we all knew what a disaster it could be.”

  “But...”

  Claudia held up a hand to s
top whatever Zoe was about to say. She held Zoe’s right hand and May’s left. “Peter gave me something precious. It might not have ever worked out between us. We may have hated each other if he’d stayed around long enough to see Justin take his first steps. But that doesn’t negate the fact that we were a couple and we were both in the car the night Justin was conceived.”

  “He’s only back for a few weeks.” May squeezed her hand.

  “I understand that, May, and I know you want this visit to go nicely so he’ll come back again, but you can’t discount the fact that he hasn’t even tried to see Justin since he was born, and that he left me to fend for myself almost from the moment the stick turned blue.”

  “I never have.” May tried to pull her hand away, but Claudia wouldn’t let her.

  “I’m not saying you have, but it’s a fact. I made out for myself just fine, but it might not be all roses and icing while he’s here. I don’t want it to rip us apart, that’s all I’m saying.”

  “It’s not going to rip us apart. How could you think that?”

  “We’re already having problems, right now, and we’re barely ten minutes into this occasion. You don’t think that’s a big deal?” May’s attitude baffled Claudia. She had been there in the delivery room. Maybe she hadn’t seen all the tears that had fallen in the dark of her room like Zoe had. And she had missed two years of cranky toddler Justin while she went to design school. But that didn’t mean she didn’t know how hard this was for her.

  “We could just avoid the subject while he’s here,” Zoe said, shrugging.

  Claudia was ready to say that was an option, just to keep the status quo, when May cut in.

  “No, I think it would be better if we brought it out into the open.” She seemed to pluck up her courage and looked first Claudia in the eyes and then Zoe. “Girls’ night at your apartment tonight, and we’ll sort it out. In the meantime, you did a great job out there, and as far as I know, Peter has no intention of doing anything but staying for a few weeks, at the most. I don’t even know if he had plans to see Justin while he was here.” Something about that seemed to strike her wrong, but she shook it off, saying, “We’ll talk about it later, but if you could just hang out in the same room with him without anything going wrong right now, I’d really appreciate it. I know I already pulled the friendship card to get you here. I don’t think I have another one to throw on the table.”