SYLER MCKNIGHT: A Holiday Tale

by Brent, Cora

  I dropped my purse on the floor. I rubbed my eyes to see if this spectacle was just a figment of my imagination. “Dad, what the hell are you doing here?”

  He shrugged like he didn’t understand my outburst. “The show is on break until New Year’s. Annika said you were in town staying with your friend Gina.”

  “Gemma,” Annika corrected gently.

  “Oh yeah, Gemma. And since your birthday’s tomorrow I thought I’d drop in and surprise you with a visit. I got here last night.”

  “And it was such a surprise,” my mother purred, squeezing his arm.

  I was aware that my mouth hung open. My mind attempted to summon an appropriate verbal response to the situation and failed. I staggered over to a nearby rocking chair (not the one being guarded by Danielle) and fell into it so I wouldn’t pass out on the floor. I still felt depleted from last night’s highly emotional argument with Syler and this astonishing development was not helping with my mental recovery.

  My dad jerked his head at me. “You all right, kid?”

  No. I definitely was not all right.

  Slowly I absorbed the sight of my parents sitting together, Annika’s hand stroking Levi’s arm as he yawned at me while wearing her robe, both of them looking as disheveled as if they’d tumbled out of bed ten minutes earlier.

  A shocking thought crossed my mind.

  It was rather disgusting actually.

  “Did you guys…” I started to ask the question and then realized no power on earth could force me to finish it.

  “Yes, sweetheart, we made love last night,” Annika calmly confirmed. “Your father is still the most attentive lover I’ve ever had. And his stamina is fantastic.”

  Levi scowled. “Anni, come on. The kid doesn’t want to hear the details.”

  “No, I don’t,” I said with urgency. “I really really don’t.”

  “Oh, you two,” my mother declared, shaking her head over the inexplicable fact that no one else in the room cared to hear a lusty description of last night’s sexual escapades.

  The concept shouldn’t be so disturbing. My parents were attractive people. Annika’s ethereal beauty remained intact as she gracefully aged. And my dad was in peak physical condition thanks to his long suffering personal trainer.

  But watching them together was like observing a giraffe mate with a wolf. In other words, something one just didn’t see in nature.

  Although, obviously they’d ‘mated’ before. To produce me. It was all very confusing.

  “Where’s Dustin?” I asked, mostly to change the subject to something else, anything else.

  My father frowned. “Who?”

  “My houseguest,” my mother told him. “You were kind enough to offer him some financial assistance.”

  “That guy? I pulled a wad of cash out of my pocket and ordered him to beat it back to Montana.”

  “Alaska,” Annika amended, nodding.

  “Dustin went home to Alaska?” I asked.

  “Yes. He missed both his fiancés.”

  “Oh.” I had nothing to add on the topic of Dustin.

  My mother rested her head on my father’s shoulder and smiled at me dreamily. “What would you like to do for your birthday tomorrow?”

  “Actually…” I stalled for time, fidgeting. “That’s why I came over so early. I might be leaving tomorrow.”

  “No!” Annika was distressed. “Why would you leave? On your birthday no less?”

  “I talked to my boss this morning. He offered me an assignment reporting on the Detroit game on Christmas Day.”

  “The same shithead who suspended you?” My father was unimpressed. “Bastard. I ought to have him on my show. He needs to explain himself.”

  “No, Dad. It’s fine. Don’t invite my boss on your show. It’s not his fault. The network heads are the ones calling the shots and they wanted me out of the picture for a while. But it seems Chris Bath has suffered some social media criticism for failing to rein in his fan club. He’s eager to prove he’s a forgiving guy so he’s the one who asked the network to give me the Detroit assignment.”

  My father grunted.

  My mother frowned.

  “I haven’t officially said yes yet.” There were a lot of reasons to turn the offer down.

  Gem and the kids.

  Christmas in Maple Springs.

  My birthday.

  My parents.

  Syler.

  SYLER.

  “Do you want to go back to your job at the network?” Annika asked me. “I was telling Danielle the other day that it seemed like you weren’t happy there. She agreed.”

  “Screw the network,” my father bellowed. “You’re too damn good for the network. Come to California. I’ll give you a job on my show.”

  I tried not to visibly shudder over the concept of working for my father. I’d rather manage a Bath Bomber convention.

  “Thanks Dad, but I’m an east coast girl.”

  “Are you really going?” My mother’s mood had dimmed considerably. She clutched my father’s arm and gazed at me with sad eyes.

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “If I wish to revive my career in sports broadcasting then I should go.”

  “I see.” She lowered her eyes and sniffed.

  My father circled an arm around her and she readily settled against his chest, resting her cheek over the monogrammed A on his bathrobe. Well, her bathrobe.

  I was compelled to know just how strange things were going to get.

  “So are you guys, um, getting married again?”

  My mother instantly sat upright. The two of them stared at me. Then their heads swiveled and they stared at each other. And they simultaneously broke out into such uproarious laughter they were both in danger of falling off the couch.

  “Hell no,” my father roared, still laughing.

  My mother giggled. “What a dreadful idea.”

  “A freaking nightmare of an idea.”

  “Katrina, honey, we’d kill each other,” my mother explained.

  “Probably within a week,” my father agreed.

  They laughed some more and then held hands, still giggling to themselves.

  I was at a loss. I’d never understand these two people. But I didn’t have to. They loved me unconditionally. I loved them too.

  Gidget the pet squirrel decided this was an appropriate time to crawl out from underneath the couch, leap into my lap and drop off an acorn before scampering down the hall towards the kitchen.

  “What was that, a rat?” my father asked, alarmed, scanning the floor for more of Gidget’s friends.

  “No.” I picked up the acorn and stuffed it into my jacket pocket. “That was a friend.”

  Annika smiled at me.

  Then she rose and declared that she was going to make another batch of herbal tea, which would go nicely with the old fashioned stollen bread she’d baked last night.

  It was the first time in my life I could remember having breakfast with both of my parents at the same time. And I knew it might be the last. That was okay. Watching my parents feed each other slices of powdered stollen would hereafter be among my most cherished memories.

  I’d been gone for longer than I planned and I figured Gemma might need the use of her minivan so I shrugged back into my borrowed duck down jacket and hugged my parents goodbye.

  Plus, I had things to figure out. Work things. Personal things. Syler McKnight things. I couldn’t shake the feeling that somewhere an invisible hourglass counted down to a crucial moment that would shape the rest of my life. And the sands were running low.

  I promised to keep my folks informed of my plans. Before I walked out the door I turned for one last glimpse of them holding each other.

  My boots slid over the ice coating the walkway and I nearly fell. The last time I’d nearly fallen on a patch of ice Syler had been there to catch me. I wished he was here now. Even though I managed to remain standing on my own I still wished for him. Last night my mind had ordered me to square m
y shoulders and walk away from him. It was the sensible choice. The safe choice. Yet my heart was still screaming to be heard and my heart was calling me a fool.

  We might be volatile together, Syler and me. We might tear each other to shreds and hate one another before we were finished. We might discover that, like my parents, we just couldn’t make it work even with all the love in the world.

  Or we might be one of those happily ever afters that everyone else envies.

  “Katrina!”

  Annika rushed outside in her slippers and I paused with the door to Gemma’s mini van open.

  She breathlessly caught up and shivered in her pajamas.

  “Honey, I just wanted to tell you something.”

  I desperately hoped that her revelation would include no extra specifics about my father’s bedroom skills.

  “What is it, Mom?” I asked, half hoping for spontaneous temporary deafness.

  She gazed at me fondly for a few seconds, then reached out and tenderly touched my cheek. “Life goes by so fast, baby. If you’re not careful you’ll spend all your years chasing the things that don’t make you happy. That’s not what we want for you.”

  “Mom.” I closed my eyes for a few seconds as her touch lingered on my cheek. “I don’t know what makes me happy.”

  “Yes you do.” She leaned in, fleetingly kissed my forehead and whispered again. “Yes you do.”

  Then she withdrew, stood back and merrily waved.

  Behind her I saw my father standing at the front door, watching us in uncharacteristic silence.

  “I love you guys.” I blew them a kiss and drove away.

  Downtown Maple Springs was quiet and lovely, covered with a dusting of fresh snow. I drove slowly through the familiar streets that I knew like the back of my hand. I had always loved New York City. I was born there and during my years in Maple Springs had always plotted my return to the glittering city I saw as my true home. Being banished to this tiny upstate enclave that was forty miles from the nearest decent shopping opportunity had felt like a punishment. I no longer felt that way about Maple Springs. I still loved New York. I just loved Maple Springs more.

  Fresh snowflakes were beginning to fall on Gemma’s windshield as I pulled up to her house. The closer I got to the front door the more my heart sped up and I knew why. Syler was why.

  I took a deep breath and opened the door, hoping he’d be the first person I saw. He was. He stood by the fireplace warmly dressed in loose sweats and a hoodie, all deliciously unshaven and incredibly hot.

  “Aunt Katty!” Gretel bounced over to me, dragging Beansy by one arm. “Uncle Ryland is here.”

  I thought I must have misunderstood her.

  I was sure I must have misunderstood her.

  I hadn’t misunderstood.

  “Good to see you, Katrina.” Ryland McKnight cheerfully waved to me from the sofa, where he sat beside Gemma.

  What in the name of Maple Springs was going on today?

  Did the skies open up late last night and begin raining down unlikely visitors?

  Who would show up next?

  Chris Bath?

  Drea Dougray?

  Elvis?

  The possibilities were infinite.

  My eyes shifted to Syler, who casually leaned against the wall beside the fireplace and watched me.

  I cleared my throat.

  “Hi, Ryland,” I managed to say. “How are you?”

  I was aware that I was being rude. I’d greeted Ryland but my gaze remained stubbornly, eternally locked on his brother.

  Syler continued to watch me without saying a word.

  We were only standing about ten feet apart but somehow the distance between us felt much greater.

  17

  Pancakes and Important Work

  Syler

  By some quirk of coincidence that involved kids scrambling for this or that favorite dining room chair, the three of us ended up in exactly the same places we’d sat on a very notable long ago morning.

  Ryland, of course, was oblivious. He graciously accepted a plate of pancakes from Katrina, who’d helped Gemma whip them up.

  “Thanks, this is great,” Ryland said. “My breakfasts usually consist of a bowl of cold oatmeal eaten in my trailer on the dig site.”

  He smiled at Katrina. He even smiled at me. He had no clue that he’d once played a crucial role in a baffling love triangle. I kind of felt sorry for him for being so far out of the loop.

  Katrina didn’t even glance his way. She was slightly pale this morning, no less beautiful.

  “Syler,” she ventured, almost timidly. “Did you want your pancakes with chocolate chips?”

  Evan raised his hand. “I want chocolate chips!”

  “We all know you want chocolate chips,” Chloe said in the most withering of tones. “You’ve only shrieked it about eighteen times.”

  Evan pouted. “Don’t forget, Aunt Katty.”

  “I won’t forget, Ev. Syler?”

  “I’d love some chocolate chips,” I replied while examining her soft lips. I could kiss those lips for hours. Maybe days. If she’d let me.

  Katrina responded with a nod and returned to the kitchen.

  Ryland politely waited to dig into his pancakes until everyone had food in front of them. Evan cheered when his chocolate chip pancakes arrived. Katrina slowly slid into the chair right across from me. Gemma took the chair at the head of the table and urged everyone to begin eating.

  “Aren’t you eating anything?” Ryland asked Katrina, noting that she only had a cup of coffee.

  “No, I actually had breakfast with my parents earlier.”

  “Your parents?” I asked, confused.

  “Yup.”

  “You mean both your parents?”

  “Strangely, yes.” She dumped a heaping spoonful of sugar into her cup. “It’s a long and rather weird story.”

  “I like weird stories,” I told her. “The weirder the better.”

  She smiled into her coffee. “That does not surprise me.”

  “Then spill it.”

  She talked about arriving at Annika’s house early this morning and finding her father there in Annika’s bathrobe. The version was sanitized due to the presence of children but it wasn’t hard to read between the lines. Katrina’s parents had evidently enjoyed a stimulating night together. I raised an eyebrow at her, asking the question.

  She wrinkled her nose and nodded in confirmation.

  I laughed out loud.

  “What’s so funny?” Chloe wanted to know.

  “Nothing,” I answered. “Uncle Ryland tickled me.”

  “I did?” My brother was puzzled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

  “It’s not your fault,” I assured him. “I’m unusually sensitive.”

  “Famously delicate,” Katrina added with a giggle.

  “I should really be wrapped in a bubble,” I agreed.

  “People aren’t really wrapped in bubbles,” Ryland informed me. “You’re thinking of the incubator-like conditions that are designed for those suffering from a lack of a functioning immune system.”

  “I guess you don’t need a bubble after all,” Katrina said.

  “That’s good.” I bobbed my head. “Because I’m not sure it’s advisable to slide chocolate chip pancakes into a bubble and I’d hate to starve.”

  Ryland threw me a stern look. That didn’t take long.

  Gemma cleared her throat and prodded Ryland to talk about his work in the Badlands. He was happy to do so. The kids were interested when he began describing the dinosaur bones that had been uncovered under the layers of earth that had been carefully peeled away for scientific study.

  Katrina sipped her coffee and gestured to the maple syrup. “You want some?”

  I acted like I didn’t know what she meant. “What are you offering?”

  She reddened and squirmed in her chair. “Syrup. You know very well I was offering you maple syrup.”

  “I’ll pass on th
e syrup,” I said, recalling last night’s bad dream. “But please let me know if you’ve got anything else you’re willing to give me.”

  Katrina choked on her coffee. “You’re impossible,” she whispered.

  “You’re the only one who knows that,” I whispered back, confident that the rest of the table remained enthralled with Ryland’s stories about rocks and dinosaurs.

  My brother finished talking and there was a lull in the conversation.

  “Katrina,” Gemma called. “Did you decide what you’re going to do yet?”

  “No.” Katrina looked uncertain all of a sudden. “But I told my boss I’d give him an answer by this afternoon. If I go I’ll need to be on a plane tomorrow morning.”

  “Go where?” I asked, suspecting I wouldn’t like the answer.

  And from the look on her face, she didn’t enjoy telling me.

  “I’ve been asked to report on the Detroit game on Christmas Day. I guess this means my suspension from the network is over.”

  The kids were dismayed.

  “You’re leaving, Aunt Katty?” Chloe squeaked out, dropping her fork on her plate with a clatter.

  “But it’s not Christmas yet,” Drew pointed out.

  “And Beansy was going to celebrate your birthday with you,” Gretel said, holding up her doll as proof. The thing had melted chocolate chips smeared on its plastic mouth.

  “Aunt Katty has an important job,” Gemma gently reminded her children. “And her boss needs her.”

  “It’s not so important,” Katrina muttered, so softly I was likely the only one who heard her.

  “Are you going?” I asked her.

  “I don’t know. I should. I mean, if I care about my career I should.”

  “Sometimes work has to come first,” declared Ryland, the one person at the table with that opinion.

  I felt my eyes narrowing. Goddamn all the Important Work in the world.

  “If you feel that way then why’d you come here?” I challenged him.

  Ryland chewed his bite of pancakes with methodical precision and swallowed. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you’re just like our folks. Important Work trumps all other obligations, right?”

  He glared at me. Ryland wasn’t the glaring sort but I’d always managed to be the exception.