by Robin Janney
Craig telling her pastor they were in a relationship wasn’t quite the same as saying he was her boyfriend. She was certain Pastor Mark would even use the same line of thought against her. At least she had until next Sunday to figure it out.
She helped gather up the dirty dishes from the table much as she had at Thanksgiving, exchanging laughs with Bonnie as she helped. They both carried a stack of dirty plates into the kitchen. As she set her stack on the counter, her Aunt Sylvia cut her off before she could start drawing water.
“Oh no you don’t, young lady!” Sylvia gave her a gentle nudge and began the sink preparations herself.
“Sylvia’s right, Angela.” Aunt Eloise, another of her mother’s sisters, chimed in. “You go entertain that handsome young man of yours. We’ll take care of the dishes.”
“Are you sure?” Angela couldn’t believe this, but hadn’t she been excused from helping at Thanksgiving too? Was her entire family supporting her relationship with Craig?
“Angela, don’t sass your aunts,” said Maude, coming in from the dining room. She emptied her hands and came over to Angela, giving her a quick once over. “You look lovely, sweetheart. If the two of you want any privacy, I made sure the laundry room was tidied. Quickly now, before Uncle Clyde gets to Craig. They were all headed back to your father’s den.”
Angela left the kitchen with a laugh. It didn’t take her long to find Craig, he was leaning against the hutch in the hallway. She smiled as he laid a finger across his lips in a hushing motion.
“Quiet,” he whispered. “I’m hiding from one of your uncles. He said something about arm wrestling.”
Smothering a laugh, she replied just as quietly. “That would be my Uncle Clyde. He holds a record somewhere for being undefeated.”
He straightened and closed the distance between them. “Is there someplace we can go without running into any of your family?”
“My mom suggested the laundry room,” she answered, her heart picking up its pace. “Unless you want to walk down to Barry’s Bridge?”
“The laundry room will be fine. It’ll be warm and dry.”
She beamed at him. “This way.” She longed to take him by the hand but it was best to let him initiate physical contact. Even with the success of last night’s impulsive cheek kiss, she didn’t want to press her luck. She led him back through the kitchen and through the doorway to the laundry room.
It was cooler in here, more a glorified enclosed porch than an actual room. It had only one heat register, which her mother often kept nearly closed to keep the heat in the rest of the farmhouse. But it was comfortable enough, she thought as she hoisted herself up to sit on top of the washing machine. “This is better.”
“M
uch,” agreed Craig. He leaned against the dryer, the fingers of one hand idly toying with the soft fabric of her skirt. It was similar in style to the one she had worn yesterday, though this dress was a royal blue. This style of long skirts and peasant sleeves suited her as if she were a princess transposed from a different world, or the Angel from his dreams. “As much as I liked your family, they can be a bit overwhelming sometimes.”
“I can understand that. There’s a lot of us. It’s part of the reason why I moved into town.”
He looked up at her. Her gaze was fixed out the window, and he followed it. In the distance, across a wide pond was a family cemetery. Part of the reason, she had said. He returned his gaze to her. “What’s the other part?”
Her shoulders moved in a barely perceivable shrug. “Some memories were getting too strong.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“No, not today.” Angela looked down at him with a half-hearted smile. “It’s Christmas and I don’t want to spoil it. It’s been such a good day. Some other time.”
“Fair enough.” Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes, he noted with sadness. She called it a good day, even with sorrow in her eyes. Craig gathered his courage and pulled a small package from his jeans pocket. “Here, I have something for you.”
“You do?”
“It is Christmas,” he teased with a hint of a smile. “Or so I was just told.” The gold gift box was a little smashed from being in his pocket, but it didn’t look too bad. He almost hadn’t brought it along, almost hadn’t bought it all. He stepped to stand in front of her and offered it to her. Her eyes had brightened. “Here. Ah, Merry Christmas.”
She hesitated. “I…I wasn’t sure if we were exchanging gifts. I left the gift I have for you at home.”
“You can give it to me when I take you home.” He had told her he needed things to move slowly, but they needed to get better at communicating.
“Alright.” She took the box and untied the silver ribbon wrapped around it. Her hands shook a little, but he was certain it was from excitement. She pulled the lid off, her face wide-eyed. “Oh, Craig. Oh, oh my…” She brought the silver and gold toned X’s and O’s bracelet from the box for closer inspection. She turned it in the afternoon sunlight so the diamonds in the X’s glittered. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
“Here.” He took the bracelet from her. “Give me your wrist.”
Obediently, she held her right wrist out to him.
He managed to maintain an outward calm, even though inside he was in a tumult. His hands only fumbled a little as he fastened the piece of jewelry around her wrist. Fingers trailing over hers as he withdrew his hands, he looked up into her beaming face. “Now – it’s beautiful.”
Impulsively, Angela slid down from the machine and wrapped her arms around him in a hug.
He hesitated only a heartbeat before returning the embrace. After all, hadn’t he held her after Princess had been hit? This was no different. Relationship aside, it was just a hug from a friend, or so Craig tried to tell himself. His heart was racing, and he didn’t want to let her go.
Angela pulled back enough to look up at him. “Oh God, I’m sorry Craig…I wasn’t thinking.”
She tried to disengage, but he didn’t let her. “It’s alright.”
“It is?” She relaxed in his arms, hands against his chest.
“Yes.” He raised a hand to her face, caressed her cheek. He wanted to kiss her. He shouldn’t…he wasn’t ready for where kisses would lead.
“Are…are you going to kiss me?”
“Maybe.” There was no way he could pull away with it being awkward, especially after saying that. How could he even be thinking of pulling away? Especially since he was leaning closer. Her eyes were welcoming his advance.
Their lips had just barely touched when an elderly female voice interrupted.
“And what do we have here?”
The two let go of each other quickly. Craig stepped back, far enough to leave Angela’s touch. Her grandmother Pearl stood in the doorway, foot tapping. So that’s where Angela inherited her poker face.
Angela turned to face the other woman. “Hi Grandma.” Her voice sounded calm, but Craig could hear undercurrents of other emotions. She was holding the hand with the bracelet out to her grandmother. “I was just thanking Craig for his gift. See?”
“Very pretty, dear.” Pearl smiled at him, and he didn’t fail to notice how she hadn’t even looked at the bracelet. “Will you forgive me if I steal my granddaughter away for a bit? We haven’t visited in ages.”
“Go ahead,” he managed to say evenly. He hardened his heart when Angela looked at him, confusion and hurt playing across her face. They left without further word. He leaned his back against the nearest wall and sank to the floor. “Damn.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, and if he had thought about it, he was praying to a God he no longer believed in. He dreamt of kissing Angela, of holding her close, even as he told himself it could never happen. He wanted her in so many ways, that to be denied her presence now after having had her so close created a physical pain. Was this the pain she had felt last night when she’d held her chest?
“Help me,” he pleaded to his hated God. Something inside him began to break
. Something he didn’t have words for.
A ngela followed her grandmother sullenly, having cast a dismayed look toward her mother before they disappeared through the swinging kitchen door. Maude felt a little dismayed too as she walked to the door in time to watch them head up the stairs leading to the second level. What was her mother doing? Had her mother not understood when she said the two were to be left alone?
And she recognized the look in her daughter’s eyes.
“Excuse me,” Maude said to her sisters, who looked a little confused over the matter as well. They had all conspired to give the young couple privacy today. Walking quickly from the kitchen through the dining room and living area, she didn’t acknowledge any questions from family, instead making her way down the hallway to the den. She was going fast enough to stumble over the slight step from hallway to room. “Philip, we have a situation brewing.”
He looked over to her from his seat on the couch, a new book in his hands. He couldn’t have been reading, not during the dull roar of Christmas. Especially not with Clyde by his side.
“What’s wrong?” her husband asked, alarmed.
Even her brothers-in-law looked startled at her sudden appearance.
“I’m not sure what happened, but my mother interrupted Angela and Craig. You know we were going to let them have some privacy.” She brushed at her brown curls. “I think we’re about ready to have a PTSD episode.”
He dropped the book on the couch and stood quickly. A curse word slipped out of him, but she didn’t admonish him. How could she when she felt the same? “How sure are you?” he asked, crossing to stand in front of her.
“Better than ninety percent. I don’t know what my mother is up to. She didn’t say a word to me, just rolled her eyes when I said to leave them alone. But I know that look. If Angela trips, it’s going to be bad.”
Philip ran a hand over his face. “Where are the kids?”
“Everywhere.” Maude was glad to see even her brothers-in-law looking concerned as they came to stand beside her husband. So often in the past they’d displayed impatience over what they called Angela’s bad behavior. “Some are outside, some inside.”
Philip nodded. He looked at the men he’d been talking with. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. We’ll split up, mingle among the kids…if it happens, we’ll keep them clear. We’ll be best off getting Angela outside, hopefully the cold will be enough to cool whatever rage is building.”
The men nodded.
“I’ll go tell my sisters to do the same.” Maude turned to retrace her steps.
S he lay on her old bed, her face pressed into a pillow. Her grandmother was lecturing her about something, but Angela was beyond hearing. She knew it was her imagination, but she could still feel Craig’s touch on her face. How gentle his fingers had been when he’d placed the bracelet on her wrist. He was always so gentle when he touched her. And the look in his eyes when he’d told her she was beautiful, had that been love? And then there was the look in his eyes after she’d so impulsively hugged him, fear battling desire…the fear losing as his head lowered towards her.
“Oh God,” she moaned into her pillow. Her stomach hurt, maybe she’d eaten too much ham? Oh God, she didn’t want to throw up. Her heart was pounding in anger. Her mother and aunts had arranged privacy for her and Craig, and her grandmother had stolen it from them. She wanted to scream, but it was Christmas…no, she wanted to scream because it was Christmas and it had been going so nicely until a few minutes ago.
“Are you listening to me, Angela? Sit up and talk to me.”
She rolled over and sat up. Rubbing at her wet cheeks, Angela looked at her grandmother sullenly. “Talk to you?”
“Yes. I’m curious about your boyfriend. He was rather distant and shy at dinner, though I will say he wasn’t distant a moment ago. I apologize if I interrupted anything.”
“If. If?” Was her grandmother serious or was she mocking her?
“Well, yes. Surely that’s not the first kiss you’ve shared. Jared told me you’ve been dating since Thanksgiving. That’s plenty enough time for a kiss or two, among other things.”
Did her grandmother just suggest she was sleeping with Craig? The man could barely touch her. How could Angela explain the complexity of her relationship with Craig when she wasn’t even sure she understood it herself? She struggled to remain civil to her grandmother. “That is the first time I’ve been in his arms since Princess what hit.”
Her grandmother looked at her in clear disbelief, but after her previous comment Angela wasn’t surprised by this look. “Really now?”
“He needs things to go slow. I’m okay with slow.” Anything more wasn’t any of her grandmother’s business. Especially since Angela only had her intuition to go on. She suspected far more than Craig could tell her.
“There is such a thing as going too slowly, Angela.” The older woman sat on the bed next to her and patted Angela’s knee. “If that’s the first time he’s held you since you’ve been dating…”
Her grandmother would keep poking. And poking. And poking. When was it going to end? “Grandma,” she said, her voice flat. “Craig’s been hurt. I don’t know by who or what, but it was bad enough to cause him to pull away anytime I get too close. It’s frustrating, but I know deep down I need to let him set the pace.”
“You have no say in the matter?” Pearl tsked.
“That is my say in the matter.”
“My dear, whatever are you afraid of?”
She jerked as if slapped. First she was a slut, now she was a coward for respecting his boundaries? “How can the Fearless Angela Carman be afraid?”
“Please. Those stupid stunts which got you that ridiculous nickname only prove my point. I know you still have panic attacks too. Angela, honey, I know Randy’s death…”
“Don’t.” Angela pushed her grandmother’s hand away and hopped off the bed. The trigger in her had finally flipped, and anger came spewing out. Anger at who, or what? Everyone, and everything. “You don’t know everything, and I wish you’d quit acting like you do! And above all else…don’t say his name to me! He’s dead, he’s dead and nothing can change that!”
The tears were flowing again, leaking out of angry eyes. Angela’s voice began to rise in its intensity. It was Christmas, and she had just had her first kiss with the man she loved interrupted – and for what? A lecture? Her grandmother wanted to talk about her dead brother? “How dare you! How dare you do this to me on Christmas? Christmas! Talking about what happened won’t change anything! The pain is too great, and I…”
She screamed wordlessly…agony and anger mixing in a frightening pitch.
“Stop it! Just stop it!” Angela continued, unsure whether she was addressing her grandmother or herself. Her grandmother was just a blur at this point. “I just wish you’d all let me live my life without interference! Why is that too much to ask?”
She turned and ran from the room. Ran down the steps too fast, too fast…but she couldn’t stop herself. The world was flying by too fast. Strange arms caught her as she tilted off the bottom step; strange, even though she had just been held by them.
“Let go of me,” she said, struggling with the person helping her to her feet. “Take your fucking hands off me!”
“You’re lucky I was here to catch you,” he said, his voice light as he let go of her. “What’s going on? Are you alright?”
“No…no…” She backed against the door as it swung shut. “I’m trapped.”
“What? No, I just…we need to talk…” Caught in his own emotions, Craig didn’t see what was happening. He took a step closer, only to be driven back when she reached out and slapped him. “What the…?”
“Step back, Craig. Angela, come this way…”
Philip stood nearby, his body blocking the living room entrance.
Craig stepped away from her, finally registering Angela’s unseeing eyes. She’d heard her father. Her hands grabbing at her hair, she began walking away.<
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“Move…move…” She kept saying to no one. Maybe she was talking to herself?
The door to the stairway opened and Pearl appeared.
“What’s happening?” Craig asked as soon as a slamming door could be heard. Even as he asked, the memory of how she’d left his truck the day of Princess’s accident came to mind.
“She’s outside,” Maude called. Her voice carried tones of strain and fear. “Cassie’s moving the children out there to the front. It looks like Angela’s heading towards the pond.”
Philip swore. “Craig, I can’t answer your questions right now.” The older man disappeared into the kitchen.
Rubbing his cheek, Craig looked at the grandmother. “What did you say to her?”
“The wrong thing, obviously.” Pearl sighed. She placed her hand on his arm, and he politely removed it.
Walking away, Craig followed in Angela’s footsteps. Back through the kitchen, where a handful of worried adults watched through the window above the sink. He found his way into the laundry room, to the window in the door there. Angela was near the pond, throwing fistfuls of snow against a large maple tree.
For a moment, his own anger at life’s injustice faded. Because clearly, the fury in Angela, which she normally hid so well, burned hotter than his.
“My God,” Craig breathed. Just as in his dreams, his own pain now meant nothing to him.
T hey weren’t the only ones watching Angela. Circling around in the air above the furious woman, the Beast watched. He loved it when she got this angry…when she forgot herself and surrendered to the push and pull of her emotions.
It was glorious, music to his ears. He was disappointed when it finally subsided, but all good things come to an end. Her fury spent, his adversary collapsed first to her knees, then her face, on the icy ground as angry screams turned into sobs.
Tears just weren’t the same as fury, though they fueled him just as easily. Her tears always bothered something deep in him. He hated her tears, even when driven by the despair he fed. They made him itch. But wait…what was this? Was she going to step out onto the ice-covered pond?