SYLER MCKNIGHT: A Holiday Tale

by Brent, Cora

  Alarm bells rang inside my head. This conversation was unlikely to go in a positive direction. I should just end it and leave Deanna alone with her cigarette and her bitterness.

  “Look who’s talking. I seem to remember you had a boyfriend when we got better acquainted.”

  “Acquainted.” She tested out the word, chewing each syllable slowly. “I guess that’s one way to put it.” She giggled. “There were a few days when I was sure you’d gotten me pregnant.”

  My uneasiness grew. “News to me. We used a condom.”

  “They don’t always work. Anyway, I wasn’t pregnant. The scare sent me running back to Aiden because I realized a guy like you was only good for one thing.”

  “Huh. Well, it’s been real fun chatting, Deanna. Now you’ll have to excuse me while I go do anything else besides continue this conversation.”

  She laughed. “I know something about you.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “I know you are eternally stuck in your own Peter Pan complex.”

  “Probably.” My voice lowered. “But I know something about you too. You’re not my sister’s friend. I doubt you are anyone’s friend.”

  The truth made her mad. “What is wrong with you? You’re just the same rude ass jerk you were in high school.” She touched the letters of her t-shirt. “Now the whole world knows it too.”

  “Perfect. Everyone’s on the same page.”

  Deanna stubbed her cigarette out on the side of Gemma’s house. “We were all such fools. All of us girls who thought Syler McKnight was something else. But look how you’ve turned out. You’re a joke, Syler. And all us idiots, the ones you fucked and then left behind with a laugh, we’re the ones laughing now.”

  I’d had enough. Since Deanna was determined to provoke me I might as well give her what she wanted.

  “Yeah, I’m guilty of fucking my way through high school and beyond. But I’d be lying if I said I could relate to your angst over the past. You know why, Deanna? Because of all the girls I fucked around here, not one of you stands out in my mind. Not one of you.”

  It was such a dickhead thing to say, the kind of careless, cutting insult that would have easily rolled off the tongue of my dumbass teenage self. Even if Deanna remained a major jerk as an adult I had no excuse for being cruel. And it wasn’t even true. I remembered every girl I’d ever been with. Even if they despised me now, I still wished I’d been more considerate of them back then.

  If I hadn’t been so intent on putting Deanna in her place then I might have noticed that while the screen door was shut, the interior kitchen door was open. I didn’t know if it had been that way when I walked over here or if it had happened in the middle of this unpleasant encounter. In any case it was open now.

  And Katrina was standing right there on the other side, listening to everything I’d just said.

  14

  Those Aren’t the Words to Silent Night

  Katrina

  I was hyper aware of him.

  Like we were opposite magnetic poles. Or the same magnetic pole. Or whatever kind of magnetic pole threw my senses out of whack and left me feeling disorientated by the physical nearness of him. With his McKnight science brain he’d probably know all about magnetic poles if I asked him to explain it to me.

  Last night I wanted so badly to go to him. I wanted it enough to toss and turn until four a.m. following a very late night of cookie decorating with Gemma. My best friend kept asking me if something was wrong. I was quiet. I wasn’t humming Van Halen songs or cracking jokes. I wasn’t acting like myself.

  I couldn’t very well admit to her that I’d been thrown a bit off course after getting my orgasm-starved brains screwed out by her little brother. She probably would have vomited all over the carefully decorated gingerbread people. And then where would we be?

  Today I felt weird around him. Almost shy. Shyness was new sensation for me. I could hardly glance in his direction without feeling a heated blush crawl into my cheeks, yet whenever he wasn’t looking I watched him hungrily. I was mindful of the fact that we needed to have a real conversation like rational adults but with Cookie Caper mania on the horizon, intense conversations (and other things) would have to wait.

  This was about more than great sex. My heart insisted that something important had shifted between us and my heart was making all the rules today, thrashing around in my chest and interfering with my ability to think clearly every time he crossed my path. Anyone would be able to tell just by looking at me that I was nuts about Syler, including Syler himself.

  I wasn’t ready for that.

  So instead of behaving like a normal person I skulked around and grabbed glimpses of him when he didn’t know I was watching. I sipped wine and watched him gather garbage in a giant black bag while my brain composed new lyrics to the Christmas song playing in the background on Gloria’s old turntable.

  Syler McKnight.

  I might have fallen for you last night.

  I almost choked on my wine. After recovering I returned to my hostess duties, convinced I’d unofficially gone insane.

  “And why is your lovely mother not here?” asked Mayor Pratt when I stopped to chat with him and his wife, Tracy.

  “I believe she’d already made plans for tonight,” I said, knowing my mother was probably in the stone house conducting one sided conversations with Danielle and Gidget and possibly Rita Hayworth while tortured painter Dustin sketched angrily by the hearth.

  Mayor Pratt nodded with a pleasant smile. He hadn’t been the mayor of Maple Springs for at least half a dozen years but everyone still called him Mayor Pratt. He owned two out of the three gas stations in town.

  While the Pratts were telling me all about their new baby granddaughter I snuck a glance at Syler. He was being social for a change, chatting with Dorien Parnell, who I hadn’t seen since high school. Syler laughed out loud and a warm feeling bloomed in my chest.

  I wanted to hear him laugh more. I wanted to be the one to make him laugh.

  Speaking of laughter, there was some of it happening among a knot of women ten feet away. I knew them all, disliked them all. Deanna Barnes was being especially obnoxious tonight with that stupid Spirit Killer shirt, which she probably wore to irk Gemma. I glared laser beams at Deanna, hoping that served as a fair warning. She’d better not mess with my McKnights if she wanted to be able to go home and dye her roots in one piece.

  “Is something wrong, Katrina?” Tracy Pratt was concerned, probably a justified reaction when the person you’re speaking to starts looking bloodthirsty.

  Deanna noticed me, flipped her hair to the side and carefully peeled her fingers back from her wine glass until only the middle one remained in view. Charming. Were we all regressing to high school?

  “Not at all,” I said and admired the photo of a gorgeous sleeping baby that her husband proudly displayed on his phone.

  A moment later my phone buzzed and I was surprised to see the call was from my boss. I excused myself and tried to find a way through the crowd. The quickest route to privacy that I could see was through the living room and to the kitchen but by the time I’d gotten there voicemail had picked up.

  I tried to call back but there was no answer. I listened to the message.

  “Katrina, I need you to call me back ASAP. It’s rather urgent.”

  Why leave a message like that and then become instantly unavailable? I was annoyed.

  My phone pinged and I eagerly checked out the text but it was just Ryland. He’d called me last night because he was worried about Gemma. He wanted someone to assure him that she and the kids were doing all right. We had a pleasant ten minute chat and then he needed to go take care of his rocks but he made me promise to call him if anything happened. Well, anything worse than Gemma’s husband abandoning and humiliating her right before Christmas.

  To give him some peace of mind I’d texted him some photos of tonight’s party. I hadn’t expected an answer but he finally texted me back.


  Grandma Gloria is smiling down on all of you.

  I hoped that was true. I smiled over the thought.

  “Hey.”

  That voice. Oh god, that voice. It did things to me now.

  I looked at Syler and could practically hear the sound of all my defenses crumbling. Instead of his customary flannel he wore a dark blue button down shirt. His jeans appeared to be brand new and he’d shaved this morning. He was so sexy and tempting I wanted to freeze time and stay right here staring at him until I couldn’t stay awake anymore.

  But instead we argued.

  I should have known it was a bad idea to admit I’d been talking to Ryland. Syler knew the depths of my ancient Ryland infatuation better than anyone. But that was so long ago. I never thought of Ryland that way anymore, hadn’t in many years, not even fleetingly. Still, I couldn’t lie to Syler about talking to his brother, not even if the truth would irritate him. Which it did.

  We couldn’t be doing this tonight. The Maple Springs gossip mill was still grinding at full speed thanks to the Russell/Ophelia affair. I hesitated to supply it with any more fuel.

  “Let’s just get through tonight first,” I begged.

  He softened, brushing my hair over my shoulder. He grazed his big, rough fingers over the tender skin of my neck and our eyes locked.

  Please, Syler. Understand. I want you. We’ll figure this out.

  Despite half the town milling around in the next room, I couldn’t resist his touch. I knew Syler was about to kiss me and I was about to let him. But then Gemma’s kids all came rushing in with the tragic tale of the missing Beansy and everything else was put on hold.

  The cookie exchange was ending and Gemma needed to head over to the town square to oversee the Christmas caroling. I helped bundle up the kids and told her I would wrap things up here and search for the lost Beansy.

  Some people were slow to leave and I was still trying to politely usher them out the door when Syler let me know he was going to search for Gretel’s doll outside. A loud crash echoed through the house as one of the tables was accidentally knocked over, taking a tray of cookies with it.

  “I’ll deal with that,” I told him. “You start the Beansy rescue party.”

  His eyebrow lifted. “Kiss for good luck?”

  For a crazy split second I almost did it, almost threw my arms around his neck and eagerly connected with his lips.

  What’s the worst that could have happened?

  He would have kissed me back. I was sure of it. And I’d be kissing him in front of other people, which was confirmation that I saw him as more than some secret dirty fun. Anyone left in the house would have noticed and gasped and then maybe clapped. We would have kissed on and on while Christmas music continued to play and if outsiders were looking through the window it would have appeared like we were filming a holiday romance.

  Shyness won out. I was still nervous around him, still uncertain.

  “Don’t push it, McKnight,” I said sweetly.

  His grin became devious. “I wouldn’t push anything at the moment. Maybe later.”

  I tried to glare, failed, and withdrew to clean up the mess.

  Mayor Pratt and his wife were still getting their coats on when they noticed what I was doing so they came over to help sweep up the shards of glass and cookie crumbs. By the time we were finished the last of the stragglers had exited to proceed to the town square.

  Tracy Pratt took her husband’s arm and turned to me in the doorway. “Are you coming, Katrina? The Maple Springs Barbershop Quartet will be there.”

  “Maybe in a little while,” I said, although it was doubtful. I wanted to get the bulk of the house cleaned up before Gemma’s return so she wouldn’t feel as if she needed to stay up all night doing the work herself.

  And then there was Syler…

  Syler was still here. He was out searching for Gretel’s doll at the moment but he was here. And I wanted to be where he was.

  I grabbed my coat and scuttled to the kitchen, hoping to catch up with him out in the vast backyard that sat on the edge of thick woods. The kitchen door was cracked open, like someone had neglected to close it all the way upon exiting. As I got closer I heard voices. Angry voices, one of them belonging to Syler.

  Curious, I pulled the door open and through the screen door saw that Syler was in the middle of a heated argument with Deanna Barnes. I bristled. If that little twit was causing trouble I would have no qualms about hauling her off Gemma’s property by her bleached split ends.

  “We were all such fools,” Deanna sneered. “All of us girls who thought Syler McKnight was something else. But look how you’ve turned out. You’re a joke, Syler. And all us idiots, the ones you fucked and then left behind with a laugh, we’re the ones laughing now.”

  Yeesh. I’d never heard before that Syler had hooked up with Deanna. But whatever. They were obviously hashing out something that had happened a long time ago. It had no bearing on the man Syler was now.

  A moment later I was forced to change my mind.

  Syler gave her a cold grin and became ruthless. “Yeah, I’m guilty of fucking my way through high school and beyond. But I’d be lying if I said I could relate to your anguish over the past. You know why, Deanna? Because of all the girls I fucked around here, not one of you stands out in my mind. Not one of you.”

  “I have fun and I move on. That’s all there is to it. Not my fault if they get their hopes up and expect more.”

  “Because of all the girls I fucked around here, not one of you stands out in my mind. Not one of you.”

  Two very different conversations, taking place nearly a decade apart.

  Both of them seared me in different painful ways.

  A sick metallic taste rose in my mouth and I was back in Gloria’s bright kitchen and staring hopefully across the table at a boy I’d just discovered that I really really liked. After the passionate night we spend together I felt for the first time like I might have truly connected with someone, like all our childhood years of teasing and quarrelling were destined to lead us to each other. And then to hear that all he felt was a sense of petty victory was a knife in the heart. When I was alone again I’d cried over him and cried over my own stupidity. For a long time after that I had trouble trusting the motives of any guy.

  And now?

  Maybe I’d made a mistake, assuming he’d evolved from that heartless eighteen-year-old creep. Maybe he hadn’t changed after all. And maybe I’d made a fool out of myself. Again.

  Deanna told him to go to hell and then she barged through the kitchen door, brushing me aside. A moment later I heard the front door slam.

  By now Syler had noticed me standing on the other side of the screen door.

  “Katrina,” he said. “That wasn’t what it sounded like. I mean-“

  “Shut up.” I flung the door open, stepped out and heard it smack closed behind me. “Just shut up, Syler.”

  A child’s shovel was lying on the ground nearby. I grabbed it and started poking through mounds of packed snow in search of Gretel’s treasured Beansy.

  Syler tried to touch my arm. I jerked away.

  He exhaled noisily. “I didn’t mean you. You have to know that. I wasn’t talking about you.”

  “You don’t get it. You shouldn’t talk about anyone like that.”

  “I agree. I didn’t mean what I said. I allowed my temper to get the better of me. I’m really sorry. Shit, I’d even apologize to Deanna if she was still here.”

  I moved on to a new snow mound and began stabbing the shovel into it, moving piles of snow.

  He tried to take the shovel from me. “Here, let me do that.”

  “No.” I eviscerated the snow mound but there was no sign of Beansy. Earlier the kids had been playing about twenty yards away, over by Gemma’s raised garden beds. I couldn’t see much of that part of the yard from here but I marched in that direction while clutching my shovel.

  Syler followed with the flashlight.

  “Beansy!
” I shouted into the yawning darkness. “Beansy!”

  “Are you really waiting for the doll to answer?” Syler wanted to know.

  “BEANSY!”

  “Katrina, Beansy isn’t going to respond. Let’s talk.”

  I nearly tripped over a small mountain of snow. I drilled the shovel into the center of it and left it there in Excalibur style before spinning to face him. I could see enough of his face to tell he appeared worried.

  “Okay, Syler. We can talk. We’ve never talked about that morning.”

  “What morning?”

  “The morning AFTER!”

  “That’s what you want to talk about?”

  “Yes. Do you remember what happened?”

  “Yeah, I remember. You came downstairs and started flirting with Ryland.”

  I was so startled all I could do was let my jaw drop and stare at him. Flirting with Ryland?

  Syler sighed and continued. “Look, when I saw that you were still into my brother I got all bent out of shape. And so I acted like a dick. I was jealous, all right? I sucked. I know that. Does it really matter at this point?”

  “YES!”

  “It was almost ten years ago. We were kids. We were immature.”

  “We’re still immature,” I muttered and stalked away. Into the snow and the darkness with no clear idea where I was going.

  He followed. “Can we discuss ancient history inside the house? I don’t feel like chasing you around with the flashlight in subzero temperatures.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “Katrina, come on. Are you just upset that we had sex yesterday? Is that it?”

  “I’m upset because I never learn.”

  “Learn what?”

  My voice dropped to a near whisper. “That I hate getting my heart broken.”

  He took my elbow. “Baby, let’s talk real for a minute. Please?”

  “Okay.” I stopped walking, shoved my hands in my pockets and stared at the snow. “I was crushed.”

  He was perplexed. “What? When?”

  “THAT MORNING. I wasn’t flirting with Ryland when I came downstairs. I stopped giving Ryland a second thought the moment you kissed me. All I wanted was to talk to you. After the night we had I thought maybe there was a chance there was something between us. I even thought I might be able to fall for you. Stupid, right? Then when you blew me off, when I knew I was nothing but a joke to you, I was crushed, Syler.”