by K. C. Crowne
Denver appeared in the distance. Andrew’s apartment was downtown, one of those new high-rise condos of glass and steel that had gone up in the last few years. I parked and went through the lobby and took the elevator up to one of the top floors.
Andrew opened the door after a quick knock, his expression dour. “Hey. Come in.”
I stepped into the apartment. “Nice pad,” I said, looking around.
Unlike my older home, Andrew’s apartment was a sleek, modern loft, the floor a glossy parquet, the kitchen all stainless steel, and the floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the rest of the city.
And just like at my place, there wasn’t a single bit of Christmas décor.
“Thanks,” he said. “Paying out the ass for it, but it’s worth it.”
“Perks of being on the top, right?”
He stepped to the fridge and pulled it open, taking out a couple of beers. “Not even close to being on top. Still got a ways to go for that.”
Andrew tossed one of the beers to me and I neatly caught it, twisting the top and taking a swig.
“We’ve got things to talk about,” he announced after taking a swig.
“You’re right about that.”
He sat down on one of the kitchen barstools, and I sat down across from him an open chair.
“Alone for Christmas?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Yes and no. Got work to do tonight. Then tomorrow I’m getting together with Mom.”
Mom. The way he said the word…it was so casual.
“You’re more than welcome to come,” he said. “She’d be thrilled.”
“Not ready for that. Besides, I’ve got my own parents to see tomorrow.”
“That right?” he asked. “Good for you.”
We both sipped our beers, the vibe in the air pretty damn awkward. I looked around. “I like what you’ve done with the place. Lots of Christmas cheer.”
He gave me a wry smirk. “Smartass. I don’t have time to decorate with work. And besides, who would I even be doing it for?”
“Nah, I’m the same way. My place looks like any other day of the year.”
More sips, more silence. Someone had to say it. Someone had to bring it up.
“Annie,” I murmured. The name hung in the air.
“What about her?” he asked.
“That’s what this is all about, right?”
“In a manner of speaking,” he said. “But she doesn’t have to be.”
I was confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you have the chance to back off, Duncan. She and I dated for years, and we’re right on the verge of getting back together.”
“What? She agreed to that?”
“She’s…in the process of being convinced.”
“So she said no.”
“For now. But it’s only a matter of time before she comes around. After all, I’m the one who broke up with her.”
“What difference does that make?”
“It means that if I hadn’t done that, we’d still be dating.”
“I’m…not sure if it works like that, bud. From what she’s told me, she’s over you.”
“Oh, so you two were talking about me? Was that before or after she knew we were related?”
I side-stepped that comment. “She said there were issues between you and her, and you breaking up with her wasn’t anything more than hurrying something that would’ve happened anyway.”
His expression tensed. I could tell this wasn’t news he was happy to hear, but it needed to be said.
“You’re full of shit,” he said. “After all, we’ve learned you’re pretty damn comfortable with lying to people’s faces.”
Another comment to side-step. “It’s the truth. And it’s why you two aren’t back together, and why you won’t ever be.”
“Screw you,” he said. “I let you into my life after all these years and this is what you do – putting your fucking foot right in the middle of my personal life.” He shook his head. “I swear, of all the women in the world, you had to pick mine.”
“She’s not yours, Andrew. Sounds like you’re not getting that through your head. When you date someone you don’t claim them.”
He snorted. “Look at you, little prince charming ignoring the fact that you lied to her about being her ex’s brother. You really think you’ve got any kind of a moral high ground to stand on?”
I didn’t say anything in response. The air was tense.
Andrew shook his head. “Listen. Let’s take a step back. We’re brothers, Duncan. We shouldn’t be arguing like this with each other over a woman.”
“I agree. But we’re arguing because you’re not stepping back and letting her date who she wants.”
“And you think it’s you she wants? Pretty sure you screwed things up when you lied to her.”
“It doesn’t matter, Andrew – I love her. And I need to tell her that.”
“I love her,” he said, jabbing his chest with his thumb. “I loved her first. And you’ve got some nerve coming to my home and acting like you’re laying down the fucking law. Total joke.”
“And you’ve got some nerve acting like Annie’s your property. Maybe you need a fucking reality check.”
I was getting angry, and being a man who took pride in my ability to keep a cool head, it was no small thing.
“You know what?” Andrew seethed. “We’re supposed to be brothers. But it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it. Ever since you came back into my life, you’re more like an unwanted annoyance than anything else.”
“And you’re so weak and insecure that I can’t believe we’re related. Look at you – whining about some woman who doesn’t want a damn thing to do with you.”
He narrowed his eyes, and I knew we’d both crossed a line. For a moment, I thought he might step over and smash that bottle right across my head. Instead, he pointed to the door.
“Get the fuck out of here, brother.” His tone was sharp, edged with anger.
“Gladly.” I set the beer down and strode to the door. “Merry fucking Christmas.”
“Same to you, liar.”
I pulled the door opened and stepped out, then slammed it shut. And the moment, I did I knew I’d made a huge fucking mistake.
One by one, I was losing the most important people to me, burning bridges that might never be repaired.
And there didn’t seem to be an end in sight.
Annie
Christmas went about as wonderfully as I could’ve hoped. Especially considering my heart was broken.
The family exchanged presents, most of the gifts and attention lavished on Parker. Dad played Christmas music, and Mom made sure we were steadily stuffed with the cookies and treats we’d made the night before. It was a perfect day.
But I was miserable.
A little after lunch, the family gathered around the TV to watch A Muppet Christmas Carol – Parker’s favorite. However, I couldn’t sit still. Duncan, as much as I was still mad at him, was all I could think about.
The lights dim, the fire crackling, snow falling gently outside, I quietly slipped off the couch and went upstairs. My room had long ago been converted to a guest room, but I still enjoyed staying there. I fell back on the bed, folding my hands behind my head, tears forming in my eyes.
I wasn’t alone for long before a knock sounded at the door.
“You really think I’m going to let you be in here all by yourself?” Bethany asked as she opened the door and walked in.
“Don’t tell me everyone’s wondering where I am,” I said.
Bethany sat down on the edge of the bed. “Well, Dad’s napping, Mom and Parker are wrapped up in the movie, and Dean’s on a call. Can you believe that – a work call on Christmas? I swear, these type-A guys never take a break.”
I offered her a slight smile, but I was too bummed out to be much of a conversationalist.
“You’re upset about him, aren’t you?”
“I
s it that obvious?”
She smiled. “It’s because I’m your sister. When you know someone their entire life, you tend to get a pretty good sense of how they act.” She grabbed my ankle and squeezed. “You know what I think you should do?”
“What’s that?”
“Call him.”
I shook my head. “No. I can’t. I mean, it’s not that simple.”
“It is that simple. He wants to be with you, right?”
“Yeah, he does.”
“And you want to be with him, right.”
I considered the question, frowning. “I mean…”
“You do. I know you’re mad he lied, but you still want to be with him. It’s fine to admit it.”
“Alright.” A tiny, tiny grin formed on my face. “I do. I’m really pissed at him for that stupid stunt, but I still kind of like the guy.”
Before I could react, her hand shot over to my pocket and she yanked my phone out.
“Hey!” I said, laughing as I sat up. “What’re you doing?”
“What’s your password?” she asked, pressing random buttons. “You’d better tell me before I put in a wrong one too many times and it locks for a million minutes.”
I kept on laughing as I reached for the phone. “Come on!” I said.
She held the phone out of my reach. “How about you just give me the password and I call him? I know you’re a journalist and everything, but I’ve got such a way with words. I’ll woo him for you.” She flashed me a mischievous smirk. “Or maybe I’ll accidently get him to fall in love with me instead.”
“Ugh, don’t even joke about that,” I grumbled. “I’ve already got enough sibling drama to deal with. It’s the last thing I need more of.”
“Very good point,” she said. “Alright. I’m going to give you back your phone but only if you call him right now.”
“What do I even say?”
“Well, let me ask you this – what’s the one thing that’s gotten you both into the most trouble since you’ve been seeing each other?”
“Lying.”
She nodded emphatically. “Lying. So, start with the truth. Tell me – how do you really feel right now about him?”
“Well, I’m still pissed.”
“As you should be. What else?”
“I miss him like crazy. And I wish he was here with me celebrating Christmas with all of us.”
She beamed. “Perfect. It’s really as simple as that.”
“But…what about holding him accountable for what he did?”
“That’s not going to do you a darn bit of good, Annie. What, you want to deprive yourself of the love of a great guy to prove a point? Either cut the cord or embrace how you feel. And it’s clear as day how you feel.” She put the phone in my hand and wrapped my fingers around it. “Call him. Be honest. It’s the one thing that’s going to make you feel better.” She got up. “I’ll be here if you need to talk.”
“Thanks, Bethany.”
“Of course. I love you, sis.”
“And I love you, too.”
We hugged, her arms squeezing me tightly. “Good luck!” she said over her shoulder as she left. Then she shut the door and I was alone.
I held the phone in my hands, nervous as all hell. Nothing else to do but call. I pulled up his number and with one more deep breath, hit dial. It rang once and rang again. For a moment, I was worried out of my mind that he might not answer.
What if he was done with me? What if he’d taken our last argument as a sign to move on? What if…he’d found someone else? Before I had too much of a chance to drive myself crazy with what ifs, he answered.
“Annie.” All he said was my name, but hearing his deep, familiar voice was enough to put me at ease.
“Duncan.” I wasn’t sure what to say. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you, too.”
More silence. I couldn’t believe how nervous I was.
“I…I want to see you.” We said the same words at the same time.
I couldn’t help but grin.
“When?” he asked.
“When’s good for you? I’m at my parents’ right now.”
“Then it can wait – spend time with your family.”
“No, I was planning on coming back tonight anyway. I like to sleep in my own bed, you know?”
“I hope that’s not the only one you’d be okay sleeping in.”
I grinned. “That’s a bold statement, Dr. Pitt.”
“Bold’s how I do things.”
“I was planning on leaving in a few hours. What about you?”
“I’m here with my parents. Same deal – some dinner, then I was planning on heading back.”
“Want to call me when you’re on your way to White Pines? We can work out the specifics.”
“Perfect. I’m really looking forward to it.”
“Me too.”
“Until then.”
I hung up and shoved my phone under my legs. It made sense to be back in my old room, because I was as giddy as a teenager.
Duncan
Everything that happened after I hung up the phone was a blur.
I’d been out on the back patio of my parents’ home, the air brisk, the snow falling gently. I’d slipped my phone back into my pocket, a smile on my face for the first time in days.
I was going to see her. We were going to make things right.
We were going to be together.
Only fitting it would happen on the holidays.
I made a vow that I would never, never violate her trust again. We’d be open and honest with each other one hundred percent of the time. No lies. Not ever.
But it was the last thought I had before the patio door flew open. My mother had a look of terror on her face, like nothing I’d ever seen before. Something was terribly wrong.
My parents had been in the living room sipping some whiskey and coffee – their usual post dinner drink – when I’d stepped out to take the call. And when I’d been on the phone, happy and making plans with Annie, something happened to Dad.
“He’s on the floor,” Mom cried, tears in her eyes, panic on her face. “I don’t know what to do.”
My doctor’s focus and calm took over. “Where is he?”
“He’s…he’s in the living room.”
I took Mom’s hand and ran into the dining room of the small, cozy ranch home where my parents lived, the house where I’d grown up. From there, we hurried into the living room. My father, all six-and-a-half-feet, two-hundred-and-fifty-pounds of him, was on the floor, his hand clutching his chest, his face twisted into an expression of pain, his skin flushed a deep red.
“Dad!” I dropped to my knees. “Tell me what’s wrong!”
“Chest…” he grunted. He was barely able to speak.
I didn’t need to call upon my years of medical training to know it was a heart attack.
“Duncan,” Mom said, her voice calm, panic just beneath the surface. “What do we do? Please!”
“Run to the bathroom and grab some Aspirin. I’ll call 911.” My voice was even and calm.
Mom nodded and hurried out of the room as I called emergency services. When I was done on the phone, I looked him up and down, trying to figure out what was happening. It didn’t take my medical expertise to understand his condition. He was having a heart attack, and a severe one at that.
It all passed by so fast. The ambulance came, the red and blue lights flashing in the night air catching the drifting snow. The EMTs piled out and ran into the house, tending to Dad and bringing him out moments later on a stretcher.
I demanded, demanded, to be let in the ambulance with him. I was so insistent that Mom needed to talk me down, tell me to let the staff do their work. I relented, realizing that as much as I wanted to be with Dad every step of the way, Mom would need me even more.
We drove together to the hospital, following the ambulance closely, whipping through traffic, the snow’s intensity building with each passing min
ute. After arriving at the ER, Mom and I watched as Dad was brought into the brightly lit space, doctors and nurses a flurry around him as they performed the necessary work.
An hour passed, an hour I spent sitting with Mom, my arm around her slender shoulders. I wanted some word, any word on what was happening. And I finally got it. A serious-faced doctor arrived and approached us.
“Tell me,” I said. “I’m a doctor – you don’t need to dumb it down.” Mom stepped to my side, grabbing my arm.
“Mr. Pitt had a serious coronary event. He’s stable now, but it was touch-and-go for a moment.”
“He’s alright?” Mom asked.
“Far from fine,” said the doctor. “But we’ve stabilized him enough to get him through the night. If he stays like this overnight, we can postpone emergency surgery. But it’s looking like he’s going to need some measure of bypass.”
“What are his chances?” I asked.
“Much better,” he said. “The Aspirin might well have saved his life.”
A wave of relief washed over me. I remained calm and even, knowing Mom needed it. After a few more questions to the doctor, I sat back down with Mom.
“It’ll be okay,” I said. “Heart attacks are one of the most common medical emergencies, which means hospitals are well-equipped for them.”
“I just…I just don’t know what I’d do if I lost him.”
“You won’t need to worry about that for a long time,” I said. “Because he’s in good hands.”
We sat like that for a long while, the night passing. Eventually, Mom fell asleep on my shoulder, and I knew it was time to get her home. After checking in with the doctor and confirming that Dad’s condition was stable, I helped Mom to my car, and we were soon on our way.
Once home, I led Mom to her bedroom. She was handling it as well as I could’ve hoped, but I knew without a doubt the situation had to be wearing on her.
“Thanks for being here, baby,” she said. “I don’t know what we would’ve done without you.”
“You don’t even need to think about that,” I said. “Everything will be okay.”
Once Mom was in bed, I went back downstairs and poured myself a drink. Christmas…hadn’t been at all like I’d been expecting. But I took some solace in the fact that Dad was likely going to be alright.