Beautiful Potential

by J. Saman

  Ophelia nods at me, the corner of her mouth pulling down.

  I can’t even bring myself to mention Kelly or Grace. That wound is still too new. Especially after seeing them only a few short weeks ago.

  “Okay then, Johnny Walker Blue it is.” She goes to the back only to return a few minutes later with two crystal glasses. Not glass. Crystal. She sets them down on the counter, one for me and one for her from the looks of it. Ophelia grabs the mostly full bottle of Blue from the very top shelf and proceeds to pour us each a healthy glass. She holds up her tumbler and I hold up mine and we lock eyes. “My big sister would have been thirty-two tomorrow. Car accident.”

  I nod. “Car accident.”

  “Fuck Christmas.”

  “Fuck Christmas."

  We drink to that. Both of us slamming down the entire drink in one gulp. She winces, blowing out a huge breath of alcohol-tainted air. I swallow mine down just to feel the burn and acknowledge the pain.

  Ophelia takes her glass and sets it on the back counter of the bar. Maybe for later. Maybe because it’s a special glass which can’t go in the dishwashers here. Whatever the reason, she leaves it there and leaves me without another word to go about my drinking. I guess everyone has their own heartache. Their own secret pain they don’t wear on their sleeve for others to witness.

  Lifting that heavy bottle, I pour myself a moderately full glass, because I’m not in the mood to keep refilling it, and then I take a sip this time. Closing my eyes, I allow myself to picture Logan. To remember how he felt in my arms when I held him that one time. What it felt like to kiss him goodbye before they took him from us.

  Then I think about Grace. That beautiful little girl who was the spitting image of her mother. There was none of that piece of shit who is technically her father, in her. For some reason, I find some comfort in that. Especially since brown hair is a dominant gene and that guy definitely had brown hair.

  And Gia. Why did Ophelia have to tell me she broke up with Mason? That doesn’t help me right now. I’ve already done so many things wrong where she’s concerned. Hurt her in so many ways. I don’t want Gia to be single. To be alone. I want her to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for her.

  Taking another sip, I lean back and allow the flow of alcohol to color my blood with heat. My eyes close and my mind wanders. “I should kick your ass, Banner,” Mike says and I wonder if I’m more drunk than I thought.

  My eyes open slowly and I turn my head. Mike is dressed in black sacks, a black jacket and a white button down. And a bright red tie. I guess I’m not imaging him. “You going to court?” He just glares at me and I throw Ophelia a look, but she tosses her hands up in surrender and shakes her head as if to say, it wasn’t me.

  “My girlfriend is pissed at me. I left our house, our first Christmas party, to come and see you.”

  Leaning my elbow against the bar, I position myself so I’m facing him better. “Go home, then. I certainly never asked you to find me and I sure as shit don’t need a babysitter. I’m perfectly capable of getting drunk and tucking myself into bed. Maybe someone else’s bed if I’m really lucky.”

  “You stupid fuck,” Mike snaps and this surprises me because Mike is not known for his aggression or language for that matter. Only with me it seems. “You’re sitting here wasting yourself in a bottle of scotch when you could be with Gia.”

  “Don’t,” I warn, sitting up straight and using my three extra inches as an advantage. “Go. Home. I’m not fucking around. I will not have this conversation with you. Not tonight.”

  Mike slouches down and looks over at Ophelia who has been furtively watching us out the corner of her eye as she serves up other people’s drinks. Mike raises one finger and then points to the bottle. She nods and then a minute later, she’s bringing him a glass. “Ice?”

  “Sure.”

  “You good here?” she asks both of us, but her eyes are on me.

  “Yeah,” I say, even though I know we’re not. “We’re good.”

  She walks off, back to work as things begin to pick up and I’m left with Mike and a bottle of scotch between us. Mike pours himself a glass and then raises it up at me. “What are we drinking to?”

  “To Logan,” I say and Mike gives me a pleased grin.

  “To Logan.”

  We both take a sip and I have to wonder at just what the hell he’s doing here.

  After several long silent minutes, he finally says, “Do you remember that little girl who came in after that apartment fire? It was your second year of residency. One of the worst days I’ve ever had as a doctor. Three people died on my table and ten more were sent up to the burn unit including that little girl.”

  “Yes,” I say, lost in that memory. I still think about that little girl. Certain cases, certain patients, just stay with you. “Both of her parents died in that fire. They threw her out the window because they knew they weren’t going to make it out.”

  Mike nods, his eyes boring into mine. “She fell two stories, shattered both her ankles, her left ulna and had third degree burns on over thirty percent of her body.”

  “Shit, that was awful.”

  “Do you remember what you said to her when she told you she was scared and in pain?”

  I look over at my friend and shake my head. “You said, if you’re scared and in pain, it means you’re still alive. It means you’re still fighting. You told her it takes a very brave person to keep fighting even when they’re scared and in pain.”

  “Mike–”

  “Tonight, is the first time I’ve heard you say Logan’s name since the day you told me about what happened with Kelly and the baby. And that was the only time you’ve ever spoken about that.”

  I shake my head, turning away from him, my hands closing around my crystal glass. My throat constricts making it nearly impossible to swallow. To breathe. My chest feels like it’s being crushed by a vice.

  “I’ve never mentioned anything about this before tonight, because you’ve lived through a hell I’ve never known. A hell most haven’t. I always kept it to myself, because I figured you knew better than I what your world was like and what you could handle. But I was wrong, Finn. I did you a disservice by staying quiet all this time. And I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry I wasn’t a better friend to you.”

  “I can’t do this, Mike. I always appreciated you kept your opinions about my life to yourself. It’s why we’ve stayed close as long as we have. And I was just saying that to comfort her. She was alone and her parents were dead and she just needed someone to listen and tell her it was going to be okay. That little girl could be worse off now than she was then.”

  “No,” he says and then shoves his phone in my face. There’s a picture on it of a young Hispanic girl with braided pigtails. She’s smiling, missing a tooth on top. And even though the little girl in my memory was covered in burns and gauze and blood and smoke, I know this is the same girl “She’s in third grade now. A straight-A student and top speller in her elementary school. Her foster mom adopted her and they live on 123rd street.”

  I have no words. My mind tumbling in a million different directions as I stare sightlessly into the amber liquid in my glass.

  “You can’t change the fact your son is dead or that Kelly deceived you or that Grace isn’t yours. Life has been real shit to you. I will not dispute that. But Gia loves you. She told me so tonight.”

  Shit, that makes me ache and smile and ache all over again.

  “Gia is not Kelly. Gia is not your mother or even your father. She still cares despite everything you’ve put her through. She’s the one, Finn. That might sound like a cliché, but it’s true. She’s it. You’d be a fool not to fight for her.”

  Mike picks up his glass, tosses back the rest of it, slaps me on the back and then walks out.

  You’d be a fool not to fight for her.

  His words recycle themselves through my mind on constant repeat, swirling around the way the
scotch swirls in my glass. Suddenly, I’m struck with the most bizarre form of irony. All this time, I’ve acted on the principle that if I lose Gia, the way I lost Logan and Grace and even Kelly, then that will be it for me. I’ll officially be done. Because there really is only so much a man can take.

  So I pushed her away, effectively losing her.

  Yet somehow that felt more palatable. Being the one in control seemed to make all the difference. But I realize I never had control. It was always an illusion. Because I’m still the one sitting here alone, hurting, when I could be with her. It sounds easier than it feels. I’ve been emotionally paralyzed for a very long time.

  The idea of going to Gia, of asking her to be mine, terrifies me. A million terrible things could happen to her or us. And I’m powerless to stop any of them. How do I make sense of that? How do I compartmentalize such a prominent part of me? I’ve been ruled by this pain and fear for as long as I can remember. Even before we lost Logan, it was there.

  I’ll always grieve from the losses I’ve sustained. There will always be a scar. Jagged and poorly healed.

  But maybe not having Gia is worse than all that?

  A fool not to fight for her.

  Yeah, he’s probably right about that.

  Chapter 36

  Gia

  This is the second Christmas since my father died and to be honest, it doesn’t feel any easier than the first one. It might actually be worse because this year, I’m alone. My mother is on a cruise with her man friend, George, and sure, I could’ve gone up to Boston to be with my aunts and uncles and cousins, but it’s not the same.

  Christmas will never be the same as it was.

  It’s the ripple effect. One small stone in a pond eventually causes a tsunami.

  But I’m making the most of it, even if I am by myself. Monique is with Mike and his family and Chloe is with her parents in Brooklyn and I’m here, picking at the manicotti I made, drinking expensive wine and watching A Christmas Story for the millionth time.

  It’s a pity party, if ever there was one.

  After I spoke to Mike on the deck last night, I left the party. I just couldn’t be there when I had so much on my mind. On my ride home, I decided I need to just let it all go. I don’t know what I was expecting him to say to me. It’s not like he was going to tell me something and then I would suddenly fall out of love with Finn.

  It’s going to take time.

  Bumping into him and having him bring me coffee isn’t going to help that.

  I considered switching hospitals, but I love my job and where I work so that’s not going to happen. Honestly, I think I need to have a conversation with him. Tell him he needs to back off and leave me alone. It’s the only way I’ll be able to move on with my life. I manage when I don’t see him. I get through my days and even my quiet nights, but every time he interferes with that, it sets me back.

  Lifting my glass of red wine to my lips, I startle at the sound of my phone pinging with a text, nearly dropping the glass and spilling the expensive wine all over myself. Instead of all that drama, a few drops escape hitting the floor. Rolling my eyes at myself, I pick up my phone and grin when I see the text from Chloe.

  Chloe: What are you doing? Stop drinking wine and watching A Christmas Story in your pajamas. It’s pathetic. Get dressed in something warm, brush your hair and put on some makeup. We’re going out.

  I can’t stop the bubble of laughter as it climbs its way out of my chest. God, am I that freaking predictable?

  Me: I thought you were at your parents?

  Chloe: Such drama. I can’t take it anymore. Seriously. I want to go to the winter village at Bryant Park. Meet me there in twenty.

  Even though I’m beyond tempted to just stay in and sulk in my pajamas with my wine, I text her back telling her that I’ll meet her in thirty. Twenty minutes just isn’t possible. I need a shower. I look like Night of the Living Dead right now.

  My hair is piled on top of my head in a messy bun of sorts and even though I washed my face last night, I’m sure I still have some remnants of my makeup under my eyes. I’m wearing an old worn t-shirt and yoga pants and a sports bra. I get a smiley emoji and as I step into my hot steamy shower, I realize I’m smiling too. This is exactly what I needed.

  Finding an Uber on Christmas is a lot easier than anticipated and in under thirty minutes, I’m strolling through the park, admiring the soft glow of the holiday shops as they light up the night. The Christmas tree which separates the shopping area from the ice-skating rink is huge and beautiful with multicolored lights and a giant sparkling star at the top.

  I can’t find Chloe anywhere even though it’s not all that crowded so I dig my phone out of my purse and call her. “Where are you?” she asks without so much as a hello.

  “I’m near the tree,” I say glancing around like she’s going to materialize at any moment. “Where are you?”

  “I got held up, but I’m on my way. Go rent yourself some skates and I’ll be there in ten.”

  “Skates?” I half laugh, half shriek the word.

  “Yes, Gia. Ice skates. I want to go ice-skating.”

  That reminds me of the day after Thanksgiving when I suggested the same thing to Finn. Not the fondest of memories. “I don’t know how to skate, Chloe. I will bust my ass all over the place. Can’t we just grab some fattening dessert and shop around?”

  Chloe sighs into the phone like I’m messing up all her plans. “No. We cannot. I’ve been dying to go all season and today is the perfect day for it. Just humor me this once and after, I’ll make sure you get your dessert.”

  “Fine,” I huff. “But you have to hold my hand and when I fall, you’re not allowed to laugh.”

  “Promise. I’ll be there soon. Go grab some skates. I brought my own pair so I’m all set.” I get the hang-up beeps and I can’t suppress my eye roll at my friend. Of course, she has her own goddamn skates and I’m forced to rent. And fall. Because that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Tomorrow I’ll be nursing a bruised ass, but what the hell. I’m here.

  And when in New York…

  Making my way around the perimeter of the rink, I find the skate rental area and get in line. This is going to take hours and suddenly I’m wishing I had just stayed home. But the line progresses faster than I anticipate and before long, I’m renting skates and tying them on. Chloe is still not here and she doesn’t pick up her phone when I call her, but at this point, I don’t have a choice but to get on the ice and try and skate and hope she shows up soon.

  The moment I step onto the ice, my feet slip out from beneath me and I begin to fall backwards. Probably because you’re not supposed to step onto ice, you’re supposed to glide.

  A small startled yelp escapes my lips, just as someone catches me from behind, wrapping their arms around me and pulling my back snugly against their chest before righting me just as quickly. And when I turn to see who my savior is, I gasp instead of yelping again. “Just in time,” Finn says with a warm smile, his bright-blue eyes sparkling against the bright white of the ice.

  His hand reaches up to brush a few strands of hair from my face, tucking them securely behind my ear. I don’t know what to say. What to think. I’m so confused. People are whizzing past us, skating and laughing and I’m stuck between Finn’s arms and running–or skating–the hell out of here. “What are you doing here?”

  “Ice-skating,” he says with a smirk. “This was your idea, remember? We’ll fall together, you had said.” His expression grows genuine and my stomach flips, doing summersaults around and around.

  “Did you follow me here?” I accuse.

  Finn chuckles, shaking his head. “No,” he says, gliding into me, crowding me until I have to crane my neck to see him. And when I do, I begin to slide back again. My footing on this ice is anything but steady. Finn reaches out, grasping onto my biceps to stop the motion, holding me against him. “I enlisted the help of your friends to get you out of your ap
artment and to meet me here.”

  “You what?” I squeal. “That’s impossible. Chloe wouldn’t–”

  “I knew you would never agree to meet me if I asked you to,” he interrupts. “So I got Chloe’s number from Monique who was only too happy to oblige me. Chloe was a different matter. I had to beg her for assistance in this little subterfuge.”

  None of this makes any sense to me. “Why, Finn? What are you after now?”

  He grins, his eyes growing soft and warm. He cups my face with one of his cool hands and says, “You, Gia. I’m after you.”

  Tears threaten to fall, stinging the backs of my eyes and I push his hand away. “I can’t do this with you anymore, Finn. You can’t buy me coffee or hot chocolate. You can’t invade my space or touch me. You can’t buy me presents. I need you to leave me alone. For good this time.”

  He shakes his head, refusing to budge or pull away from me, his expression growing demanding. I look away, out into the field of skaters dancing across the frozen surface. I can’t take this anymore. It just hurts too damn much. He may say he’s after me, but it won’t last. He’ll tell me all the things I need to hear and then in the next breath, he’ll tell me we can’t be together.

  “I can’t do that, Gia. I love you and I need you.” A hiccupped sob burns its way past my lips and he slides me back into his arms. “I want to tell you I’m sorry,” he says, lifting my chin until my eyes meet his once again. “But in my experience, the words mean nothing. There’s no responsibility or commitment behind them. It certainly doesn’t erase the pain and distrust I’ve caused.”

  Suddenly, Finn slides back, giving me the space I need to breathe. The space I need to think. He’s breathing so hard, it’s audible. His chest rising and falling, his breaths fogging out into the frigid night as white plumes of vapor. I can practically hear his heart pounding. Mine is just as loud.

  “This is so hard for me,” he continues, his voice tremulous. “Practically impossible. But you’re worth it, Gia. Everything I’m terrified of seems to disintegrate when I look at you. I’m ready to do this with you, if you’ll still have me. It won’t be easy. I’ve got some serious issues I need to work on. I’m about as fucked up as it gets when it comes to this sort of thing. But I’m ready to give you everything. My past, maybe not all of it right now, but I will eventually. My present and hopefully, if you’ll take it, my future.”