Bittersweet

by K. S. Thomas

  Ah. Something about that sound totally brings out my inner five year old.

  Meanwhile, Carter is having a pretty solid laugh at my expense. “Nice one. You looked like you really enjoyed that. Kinda like an alcoholic who just had that forbidden sip of whiskey.”

  “Man, that’s quite the comparison.” I giggle, still stuck in my childlike bubble.

  “Pretty accurate though, huh?” he taunts me.

  “Yeah.” I grin at him. I’ve missed this the last few weeks. As simplistic as it might seem, there is nothing I enjoy more than being with him. Talking. Laughing. And every time, falling for him a bit more because after what we’ve been through, there is no knowledge quite as overwhelming as realizing the man who takes your breath away, is also the one who keeps you breathing.

  “Well, if that isn’t the ugliest...wait, what is it? Is that a Chihuahua?” Carter cocks his head to the side as if that might make it easier to identify the rather awkward object in my hands.

  “I do believe it is.”

  Because somehow that still doesn’t help, he tips his head all the way in the other direction as well. “Why does it have those curves in it? It’s like an inverted camel or something.”

  Try as I might, I can’t figure it out either. It takes a good minute of rummaging through all of the ripped up wrapping paper in my lap, but I finally find the gift receipt. “Hold on, here we go. Oh, it’s a set. There’s another one of these bad boys in the pile somewhere.”

  “Fantastic. What the fuck is it?”

  I’m grinning so hard my face hurts. “You’re gonna like this. It’s a taco holder.”

  “And suddenly the world makes sense again.”

  Except for the one small part where I’m not entirely sure why my grandmother thinks we need a set of Chihuahua shaped taco holders. It somehow seems like you need to be a special kind of lazy and high maintenance to need one of those, and I’ve never thought of myself as either. Not to mention, we are cat people. We don’t have dog shaped anythings in our house.

  On the upside, opening presents from my father’s side of the family still proves to be as entertaining as ever. Receiving personal gifts from people who know zip about you has to be approached with humor. Otherwise, what’s the point?

  I’m nearly halfway through the mountain of packages under the tree (I can’t help but wonder if it was guilt or pity motivating people to shop so extravagantly on my behalf this year) when Carter leaves me alone to attack what remains of the presents, while he goes to visit his father at the cemetery. Normally, we go together, but given the current events, he insists on going without me.

  He’s barely gone for a few minutes when there’s a melodic knock resembling the beat of Jingle Bells at the front door, followed by a less melodic rendition performed by my mother and sister as they come bounding in. I swear Carter is developing some sort of sixth sense about their arrival these days. Maybe it’s a super in-law instinct or something. I’ll never know for myself, my in-laws never come around.

  “I see someone’s been busy.” My mother stands in front of me, her own pile of boxes for under the tree in her arms.

  “People loved me an extra lot this year.” I grin. “So much so, they sent me this weird necklace that looks like a uterus. Which I wouldn’t have thought was so weird if it came from someone on your side, but this bad boy came from Aunt Bridget.”

  My mother takes the necklace from my outstretched hand to examine it more closely. “Maybe it’s not a uterus...maybe it’s a bull...maybe it’s meant to be an astrological sign. You know, that’s totally what it is. I sell all kinds of artsy stuff like this at the store.” She hands it back to me, clearly still trying to sell herself on the idea by being overly optimistic.

  “Yeah, only I’m not a Taurus. I’m a Leo. Not even close.” I glance back down at the necklace in my palm. “It’s a uterus, Ma. I think it’s best if we all just accept it and move on. Mostly, so we can talk about these!” I hold up my taco dogs.

  “What the hell are those?” It’s the first I’ve heard from Lev since she’s stopped singing. Hands full of grocery bags, she headed straight for the kitchen upon entering my house. “And why is it so freaking cold in here? You getting hot flashes or something?”

  I’m not even showing a belly yet, and aside from the part where my bladder is definitely already feeling the pressure of having someone sitting on it, I am finally into a part of my pregnancy where I am feeling zero side effects. Even my energy level is on the rise again. So, the audacity she has to throw around something as unattractive as hot flashes, really is quite offensive. Or maybe I’m just hormonal. Whatever. I’m pregnant.

  “I am not getting hot flashes! You just need to stop being such a wuss. You’re always complaining about being cold.”

  She’s already on her way to examine my thermostat. “Only around you.” She doesn’t need to elaborate. I understand the snide undertone perfectly.

  “Hate to break it to you, but you can’t blame me for this one.”

  Lev taps her finger on the small box attached to the wall. “Well, then there’s something wrong with your thermostat. There’s no way this is right.”

  “Any chance you could just grab a blanket and get over it? I have a ton of Harper gifts left to open and I could really use your help, not to mention, clever commentary.”

  She shrugs. “A blanket works. And since we’re back on the gifts, I need someone to explain the misshaped Chihuahuas to me.” Naturally, I am happy to.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Carter ~ Seven Years Ago

  Esi’s tugging at her skirt for the fourth time since getting out of the car and I hate myself already. She was planning on wearing pants before I walked into the room and my face reacted without my permission. It’s just, I know my parents. They’re already going to have a total shitfit when I they hear her name for the first time and I can’t give them any added ammunition to pelt her way. And pants. Well, according to my mother, those aren’t appropriate for girls at a semi-formal gathering. Unfortunately, at the Carter house, every gathering is semi-formal, which attributed to my learning how to tie a tie by the age of seven.

  I see her reach for her skirt a fifth time and I snag her hand before she can touch it. Squeezing it tight, I bring it up to my lips and kiss her knuckles softly. “I’m really sorry.”

  “For what?” she looks surprised.

  “For making you dress up in clothes you don’t feel comfortable in. For asking you to present yourself as someone you’re not. For whatever is about to happen once we walk through those doors.” I turn toward the front steps as I say it. The massive double doors tucked away behind those tall pillars are suddenly daunting and I have zero desire to walk in there. I don’t care what they’ll say to me. I’ve been listening to their bullshit for years. But Esi, as tough as she and Lev both pretend to be, they’re two of the most vulnerable souls I’ve ever met, and the Carters are ruthless pieces of shit when they want to be.

  Now it’s her turn to squeeze my hand. “Carter?”

  I tear my eyes away from the doors I suddenly hate and let them come home. To her. “Yeah?”

  “I’ve worn a skirt before, silly. Thing is, I’m pretty sure I put this one on backwards.” The lights from the porch are dancing in her eyes as the corners of her mouth twitch upward.

  “Oh.” And just like that, I’m grinning again. Magic. She’s definitely magic.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Esi

  It’s dark and both my mother and sister are long gone by the time Carter comes home. He’s quiet and sullen, which I’d already expected. Things didn’t end well between him and his father. They’d been close when Carter was young, but somewhere along the way they’d grown apart when they no longer had things like little league and soccer practice to keep them bonded. Then he and I met, and his father, much like the rest of his family, definitely had not approved. In the end, Carter had chosen us, and it had cost him his relationships with both of his parents. He h
adn’t minded much, until his father died. It changed everything, and I know how much it eats away at him even now, five years later, that the two hadn’t even spoken in years when it happened. Carter will never get real closure. He’ll never be able to repair his relationship with his father.

  For a while, he tried to mend things with his mother, but she wasn’t all that receptive. Eventually, he accepted that they were both gone for good. Or, at least he claims as much. Days like today, it’s all too obvious how heavily it all still weighs on his mind and heart.

  “Es.” We’ve been lying in bed in total silence for nearly an hour, but neither of us has fallen asleep.

  “Yeah?”

  “Why do you think he didn’t try harder to stay?” I’ve waited five years to hear him ask me that, and I’ve dreaded it every day. I know I don’t have the answer he’s looking for.

  “It was just his time, Carter. Maybe it wasn’t so much that he didn’t have enough reasons to stay, maybe he just didn’t have enough not to go.” When it comes to life and death and the afterlife, Carter has spent just enough time around my family and the store to be dangerous. Not like ‘he could hurt others’ dangerous, but like ‘he could really fuck himself up with his own thoughts’ dangerous. I’ve been submerged in this stuff my entire life, and I still don’t understand any of it any more than the next girl. I know more. Have seen more. Have experienced things most people haven’t, but I still don’t understand it any better.

  “That’s not what I mean, Es. I get it, he was done, or maybe he was just too big of a coward to stick around for whatever else was coming up, but why did he just...disappear. Shouldn’t I have felt him near me at some measly, miniscule moment over the past five years? A visit from him in my dreams? A whiff of his fucking cologne? Anything?”

  “Maybe he’s not the reason you haven’t. Maybe you haven’t been open to it. It’s hard to see the types of signs you’re looking for when you’re still so angry.” I’m treading risky territory now. I know full well, the last thing Carter wants to hear is that this is in some way his fault.

  “No. I don’t buy it.” He rolls onto his side to face me and I do the same. Even in the pitch black of our room, I can make out the contours of his handsome face.

  “Why not? If he had shown up on our front doorstep while he was still alive, you would have slammed the door in his face. Now that he’s gone, things really aren’t that different. There may not be a physical door in his face, but you’ve definitely kept your heart closed off in that aspect. And I get it, it’s painful. Sometimes when we’re faced with grief we can’t bear, our mind recalculates and creates a new scenario we can manage. You’d be amazed at what your brain can manifest when it’s in survival mode. And your brain, most definitely, built a proverbial door so you could slam it in your dad’s face even in the afterlife.”

  “Don’t doctor me, Es,” he grumbles. “I know when you’re doing it and it makes me stop listening immediately.”

  I sigh. “Fine. Forget what I said before. Your dad is a selfish asshole. Even in spirit form. Turns out his soul is black and evil, and he hasn’t made contact with you because they can’t make long distance calls from hell. Feel better?”

  Silence. Then, a quiet chuckle. “Yeah. Yeah, I do actually. Thanks.”

  “Good. Because I really have to pee.” I roll back onto my other side and slide out from under my covers. The cold floor makes me seriously reconsider my earlier decision to add the ‘shark eating feet’ slippers I got from my Uncle Vance into the Harper Gifts donation collection I put together after every holiday. Running on my tip-toes, I rush into the bathroom.

  When I come hurrying back into bed to warm up my cold feet, and a variety of other parts that have gotten chilly while on my late night potty run, I’m surprised to see Carter standing by the window, staring outside into the night.

  “Did you hear something?” I pull the blankets all the way up to my chin, and by doing so disrupt Mr. Nigellus who’s been curled up in the center of the bed. He gives me his standard glare and waits for me to get settled before he starts to nest again, this time in between my feet, which is perfectly fine by me. I am happy to take all the body heat I can get. And with Carter standing across the room, I’m now unexpectedly limited.

  Carter turns his head briefly in my direction before going right back to staring out the window. “What? No. Nothing out there. Just snow.”

  “That’s what we need. More snow and less opportunities to leave the house.” Aside from the occasional trip to the store, my appointments with various medical professionals, traditional and otherwise and the sporadic visits at my mom and sister’s, I’m not nearly getting out of my own four walls often enough. More snow only means more reasons for people to tell me to stay inside where it’s safe, and the thought alone is enough to give me cabin fever.

  “It’s really getting to you, isn’t it?” A faint smile crosses his lips. “Maybe there’s something we can do about that. Actually, I think I have an idea that would solve both of our problems.”

  I prop myself up on my elbows. “Both of our problems? What problem do you have?”

  “Nothing major, just fear of total failure as a father and a predetermined path set up for precisely such a result.” He says it nonchalantly, in true Carter fashion. Except of course, there is nothing casual or unimportant about the content of his statement.

  “What are you talking about, Carter? You are going to be an amazing dad. You think your father’s shit track record is some sort of trajectory for you? It’s not. In case you forgot, he was also a shit husband who picked up more pussy over the years than you weigh in pounds. Hasn’t had any effect on you or our marriage in any way.” I pause, watching him still glued to that damn window, searching for something he’s likely only to find within himself. “Unless, of course, there’s something you need to tell me.”

  “That’s not funny, Es.” He finally looks at me. “You know I love you.” Then, the back of his head turns toward me again. “I would defy death itself to be with you.”

  A flash of ambulance lights shoots through my mind. All of my instincts override my brain’s desire to follow the train of thought which would undoubtedly lead me straight to the accident and the moment I thought Carter would die and leave me forever.

  ‘I would defy death itself to be with you.’ So much unbearable truth in one cheesy line.

  Determined to force Carter to his own happiness in spite of his clear intentions to wallow in the misery of his failed relationship with his less than dear departed father, I swing my legs back over the side of the bed and get to my feet with a jolt.

  I’m barely a foot away from him when I lift my hand to reach for his shoulder and nearly stumble to the floor. I catch myself on the edge of the dresser just before I go down completely

  “Es, what’s wrong?” Carter is beside me in an instant.

  “Nothing. I just...I got a little light headed that’s all.” I close my eyes in an attempt to stop the room from spinning, but I’m not having much luck. “Just give me a sec. I’m sure it will pass.”

  “I’m not waiting for shit. We’re calling an ambulance right now.” His eyes are darting all around the room in search of a phone, but he never leaves my side.

  “We are not calling an ambulance.” I take a deep breath and straighten myself out again. “There. I’m already feeling better.” Although, I probably need a few minutes before I start making any major movements again.

  “Esi, lightheadedness. Fainting. Those things are on the list. Those are signs of problems.” His tone is agitated, not from anger but rather, from fear. I only know because I’ve heard anger plenty over the years. This, this is new.

  “Stop it. I was lightheaded loads of times in my life long before they sliced my heart open fifty-thousand different ways. It doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s probably just from being tired and stressed.” I casually shift my weight from one foot to the other and hope Carter won’t notice my little experiment. “B
esides. I didn’t faint.”

  “Close enough.” He comes in closer. “We need to get you back into bed.”

  “No. I need to get me back into bed. You need to back off.” I didn’t mean to shout. It just sort of burst out of me. Regardless, there is an added element of confusion to go with the already present fear and anxiety in Carter’s expression. “I’m sorry, Carter. I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just, in order to make it through this pregnancy, in order for me and the baby to survive, I need to feel strong, okay? I need to believe that I am as close to invincible as humanly possible. And all of the hovering and worrying I’m getting from everyone is such a total contradiction to what I’m trying to tell myself, I’m coming across as a big fat liar.”

  Carter sighs, but takes a step back anyway. “I hear what you’re saying, Es. And any other day I would be all about your mind over matter approach, but this is your life.”

  “Exactly. This is my life. I’m fighting for my life. Help me. Help me be strong enough to win.”

  He’s staring at me. Studying me, trying to make a decision. “Walk back to the bed. If you can get there on your own, no dizziness or lightheaded feelings – and you have to tell me the truth – then, I’ll put it down as a normal reaction to lack of sleep.”

  I glance down at my own feet. I’m fairly sure I will be able to make the trip. “You’re on. But no helping me.”

  He shrugs. “Obviously. I’m not trying to enable this insanity. Just accepting it.”

  I nod. “I can live with that.” Then, slowly, I let go of the dresser and carefully start my trip back to my comfy covers. “See. Easy-peasy.”

  “Yeah, okay. You’re moving at a snail’s pace, but whatever. Any dizziness?”

  I catch myself about to shake my head and stop. No need to create a problem where there isn’t one. “Nope, not feeling dizzy at all.” And I don’t, even after I lower myself back onto my mattress and under my blankets, all under Carter’s watchful eyes.