Saint Nicholas

by Jamie Deschain

  “Do you really forgive him for everything?”

  “I do. I haven’t forgotten it, though. Every bruise, every welt, every broken bone…I remember everything, but in forgiveness I’ve found acceptance, and maybe you can, too.”

  He sighed, running his hands along his stubble. My eyes stayed fixed on his, trying to see inside his head as his mind turned everything over. I didn’t want him to say no, so I sweetened the deal.

  “Carter will be there, if that makes you feel any better. I think he has a bit of a crush on you.”

  That made Nicholas laugh. A genuine, heartfelt laugh that gave me a glimpse into his soul. Into the kind of person he still was, and I knew that for all his anger, there was someone wonderful underneath it just waiting to come out.

  “Don’t tell him I said so, but I kind of like him too,” he winked.

  I wrapped my arms around him, drawing him close. He held me, his chin resting in the crook of my neck with his hands placed softly on my lower back.

  “I’m so afraid I’ll disappoint you,” he whispered.

  I held him tighter, fighting back the tears. I didn’t want to cry, but damn if he didn’t make me feel like the most wanted girl in the world, and it’d been a long time since I felt even remotely like someone wanted to be close to me.

  “Its okay,” I said. “Just be the best you that you can be and we’ll be okay.”

  “I’ll always try and be the best for you, Sarah.”

  “Prove it,” I said.

  He nodded and I closed my eyes, pressing myself against him for what I hoped wouldn’t be the last time.

  * * *

  The smell of lasagna permeated the apartment as it cooled on the stove. The garlic bread was in the oven, and the Italian cream cake cupcakes Carter brought were resting comfortably on the counter while I fluttered about nervously making sure every napkin was in place, and every fork was free of water spots.

  “You’re going to rub the silver right off that silverware,” Carter said.

  “I know, I know, I can’t help it.”

  “You need to calm yourself,” he took me by the shoulders and forced me to look at him. He gave me a goofy, lopsided grin, and laughed. “It’s going to be fine, and if it’s not, I’ll slap some sense into your boy faster that you can say ‘pass the Parmesan.’”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so. Just relax. Look at your dad out there, he’s relaxed.”

  I glanced over my shoulder into the living room. Dad was on the couch, sitting straight with his hands on his knees, rubbing them gently. Carter may have seen that as relaxed, but all I saw was that dad was just as nervous as I was, only he was doing a better job of keeping it concealed.

  A knock at the door startled me and I yelped, covering my mouth in surprise. “He’s here,” I whispered ominously.

  “I see dead people,” Carter replied, patting me on the back. “I’ll get the door, you chew some valerian root and calm down.”

  I watched nervously while he went and welcomed Nicholas into the apartment, playfully pretending like he was going to slap him. Nicholas smiled, and my heart fluttered when Carter stepped out of the way and I could see all of him.

  He wore a pair of black dress pants and a dark blue button up silk shirt that accentuated every muscle in his upper body. His hair was an organized mess that I wanted to rest in my lap so I could run my fingers through it over and over.

  Or maybe between my legs.

  He presented Carter with a bottle of wine, and looked to the kitchen to see me watching. His smile widened even further and I thought out of all the smiles I’d ever seen, his was the cutest.

  Carted began to lead him toward me, and then my father stood up, blocking their path through the living room.

  Nicholas towered over my dad, looking down into his eyes with his jaw clenched and broad shoulders squared. I looked on with nervous anticipation, wondering for a moment if it was too good to be true, and that perhaps the only reason he accepted my dinner invitation was so that he could look into the eyes of the man who’d done me wrong before beating the shit out of him.

  Carter glanced at me, obviously rattled by the sudden stare down. I couldn’t see my dad’s face, but I suspected it was just as stone cold as Nicholas’s was, and I half expected Carter to step between them to ward off the onslaught of blows I thought for sure were about to be thrown.

  And then Nicholas extended his hand.

  It happened so fast I winced and recoiled, thinking it was going to be a punch. When I saw that it wasn’t, that he had his hand raised in a gesture of good will, my eyes moistened as his words from the previous day replayed in my mind.

  I’ll always try and be the best for you, Sarah.

  I choked back a sob and watched as my father took Nicholas’s hand in his and the two men shook. Even Carter was visibly relived, patting his beating heart in dramatic fashion.

  Nicholas didn’t smile, and he didn’t offer any sort of cheerful greeting, but it was a start, and when they parted and he made his way into the kitchen I immediately scooped him into my arms and whispered a heartfelt thank you into his ear. He kissed me on the cheek and pulled away, looking at me with a heavy heart.

  “That was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” which was quickly followed by, “and damn do you ever look good.”

  “Want some wine?” I smiled.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted a glass of wine this badly in my life,” he gasped.

  “Coming right up, and by the way, you don’t look so bad yourself.”

  We both laughed and Nicholas leaned up against the sink, watching me while I grabbed a couple of glasses from the table and poured us a drink. I felt his eyes on me with each movement I made in the sleeveless red dress I wore. It made my skin tingle, knowing he was looking at me that way, perhaps even quietly undressing me.

  I handed him his wine and raised my glass. “What should we toast to?”

  He thought about it for a moment, never taking his eyes off me, and said, “To us, Sarah.”

  Us. I liked the sound of that.

  “Are you two drinking without me?” Carter asked, coming up behind us.

  Dad followed him into the kitchen, glancing at me briefly before saying, “Dinner smells delicious, honey.”

  Nicholas stiffened at his presence, and I placed a calming hand on his arm. He didn’t pull away, nor did he look at my father with disdain, but instead asked, “Would you like a glass of wine, Mr. Danniels?”

  Carter did a double-take at the polite tone of his voice, and dad looked him in the eyes for a moment before answering, “No, but thank you. Just water for me.”

  “Suit yourself,” Nicholas quipped.

  “Thank you, I will suit myself,” Dad replied.

  That set the standard for the evening, and as we all gathered around the table to eat, the conversation didn’t necessarily feel forced, but there was an undercurrent of tension running beneath it that no amount of wine could resolve. Nicholas was trying to be the best for me though, despite how hard it must’ve been for him, and I appreciated it. I rested my hand on his knee more than once throughout the meal, which got rave reviews from everyone at the table, and he gladly took it in his each time to let me know he was still okay.

  When the plates were cleared and everyone’s bellies were full, Dad retreated to the living room to be by himself, leaving the three of us to our own devices.

  “So, Carter,” Nicholas started. “Sarah tells me you’re helping her with Novel Idea.”

  “That’s right,” Carter said, reaching out to rub my shoulder. “Our girl here is going to be the best damn bookseller in all of Staten Island.”

  “Of that I have no doubt,” Nicholas raised his glass and sipped some more wine, winking at me.

  “Now if we can just get the funding in order, everything will be roses,” I said.

  “How much do you need?”

  “Between inventory, renovations, rent…I’d say about three
quarters of a million to get started for the first year.”

  Nicholas’s eyes widened.

  “I know, it seems like a lot, doesn’t it?”

  “How much just to get the doors open?”

  I looked to Carter, who was the money man in all of this, doing his part to trim the budget as much as he could while looking into places we could get a loan.

  “To open the doors comfortably,” he said, “about a hundred thousand.”

  “And what’s your time frame?” Nicholas asked, looking at me.

  “I’d really like to have it open sometime next year. We’re still in the planning stages right now, working on the business proposal, but if everything stays on track then I think that’s a realistic goal.”

  He didn’t say anything else, just sat there chewing the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. What was there to say? I was just glad he seemed to be taking a genuine interest in what I was doing. After all, Novel Idea had been ours when we were kids, so it was nice to see that as much as it had turned into my dream, Nicholas still wanted to be a part of it somehow, even if it was as an outside observer.

  “And what about you?” Carter asked. “How’s the book writing business?”

  “Started off well enough, but then the bottom fell out after I thought Sarah was…”

  His voice trailed off and he looked at me.

  After you thought I was dead.

  “You’ll get there again,” I smiled, rubbing his shoulder.

  He nodded. “I hope so. I’m in debt up to my eyeballs, and if I don’t figure something out soon, I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

  “Maybe you should write a romance novel. Make it real steamy. Everyone loves a good sex romp every now and then.” Carter laughed at his own joke, causing Nicholas to smile uneasily.

  “Maybe,” he said quietly.

  There was an awkward pause in the conversation and I took the opportunity to get up and grab the box of cupcakes Carter’d brought. I placed it on the table and put one on a plate to take out to my father.

  “Be right back,” I said.

  Dad was on the couch, watching the TV on mute, which I thought was strange. Had he been trying to listen in on the conversation?

  “You’re more than welcome to come sit at the table with us, Dad.”

  He shook his head, not meeting my eyes.

  “Well, here, I brought you a cupcake,” I said, cheerfully presenting him with dessert.

  “I don’t want any,” he said gruffly, quickly adding “but thank you,” in a more civil tongue.

  “Are you sure? They’re your favorite.”

  “I said I don’t want any damn cupcakes!” He jumped to his feet, staring me in the eyes, and suddenly I was fifteen years old again.

  The dish shook in my trembling hands as my father stood there, his chest rising and falling with deep, methodical breaths. The cancer had done much to lessen his once strong frame to the point where he was now considerably smaller than he used to be, but in that moment I saw the man who had once stood over me while I cowered on the ground before him.

  “Daddy,” I said, my voice shaking in fear. “I—”

  He batted the plate out of my hand and I screamed, backing away from him.

  From behind me, Nicholas and Carter came out from the kitchen, and I thought for sure this was going to be it. That Nicholas was going to come charging at him and put an end to my suffering once and for all. I glanced back to see the anger in his eyes, and Carter holding him in place with a hand resting firm on Nicholas’ chest.

  I looked back at my father who still stood there with a look of disbelief on his face, like he couldn’t believe what he’d just done. His eyes made their way to the cupcake lying frosting-down on the carpet, and back up to me. They were glassy and regretful, and he rubbed a hand across his mouth.

  “I—I’m so sorry, Sarah. I don’t know—”

  But he never got the chance to finish his sentence, because in that next moment he collapsed to the floor and started convulsing. I backed away in horror, watching as he writhed on the carpet. I didn’t know what to do, and the tears flowed freely while Carter and Nicholas brushed past me to crouch down next to him.

  “Call an ambulance,” Nicholas said, and in a flash Carter was back on his feet and running for the cordless in the kitchen.

  Nicholas turned my dad on his side and said something to me, but I couldn’t comprehend anything.

  “Sarah!” he said once more, snapping his fingers. “It’s okay. He’ll be okay, but what I need you to do is move this coffee table out of the way.”

  I nodded, and leaped into action, grabbing the table and dragging it far across the room. I could hear Carter standing in the threshold speaking to a 911 operator, saying things like cancer and tumor, but that was all my brain would register. I just looked on, watching as Nicholas continued to support my dad while the seizure raged through him. He bent over to whisper something in his ear, and then Nicholas’s eyes met mine and he nodded, trying to console me from his position on the ground. He reached out his hand, still keeping one hand on my father’s shoulder as his knees prevented him from rolling onto his back.

  I snatched his hand in mine and squeezed tight. Nicholas guided me around my father and sat me on the couch, and soon I was joined by Carter who placed an arm around me, rubbing my shoulders.

  “They’re on their way,” he said.

  I looked to Nicholas once more before burying my face in Carter’s chest, sobbing uncontrollably while ambulance sirens wailed in the distance.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  - Nicholas -

  Three hours later we were still in the waiting room of Staten Island University Hospital patiently waiting for test results to come back. Sarah sat next to me, leaning her head on my shoulder, gripping my hand in hers. Carter sat opposite her, and while he would rub Sarah’s arm from time to time in a gesture of comfort, he didn’t say much of anything. Neither of us did. What was there to say?

  I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the wall, taking a deep breath to help steady my beating heart, which wouldn’t stop racing. The scent of Sarah’s hair wafted up to me and I silently kissed the top of her head as images from hours before replayed in my mind.

  For a fleeting moment he had been that person again, terrifying his daughter to tears. I was ready and willing to step in and stop it, and if it hadn’t been for Carter holding me back that’s exactly what I would have done, and that scared me. But Sarah needed me at my best, and it was that split second thought that prevented me from barging past Carter and into the living room to step in between father and daughter.

  And now here we are.

  Sarah shifted in her seat and sat up with a sniffle and a swipe of her eyes. I rubbed soft circles into her flesh with the ball of my thumb as our fingers remained intertwined with one another, letting her know I was here for her.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  I didn’t reply, because I didn’t need to. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t try and do for this woman. Not for praise or thank-yous, but because I loved her. I’d never stopped loving her.

  She turned to Carter and patted him on the knee, whispering the same gratitude. He reached out and hugged her close. There were puffy circles under his eyes and his normally styled blonde hair was an unkempt mess. It’d look almost comical if the situation wasn’t so damn depressing.

  I cleared my throat before saying, “I’m going to get some coffee, does anybody want any?”

  Sarah shook her head, but Carter stood up and stretched. “I’ll come with you.”

  My eyes flicked to Sarah’s for a moment, silently asking it that was okay. “Go,” she said. “I’ll be here.” She smiled, but it was weak and tired and my heart ached for her.

  Carter and I walked down the hall, rounding a corner where I’d seen a vending machine earlier. I deposited some change into the slot and looked to him for a second, inquiring what he took in his coffee.

  “Bl
ack,” he said.

  Hot liquid poured into a cup and I handed it to him, selecting black with two sugars for myself. We stood there for a moment, the both of us bone tired and pumping with nervous anticipation at the diagnosis we both knew wasn’t going to be good.

  “She’s going to need you,” he said to me.

  “I know.”

  “No, I mean really need you.”

  “I know,” I repeated, staring at him from above the rim of the cup as I drank.

  He thunked against the wall and sighed. “This is so fucked up.”

  I joined him, propping the bottom of my foot against the wall and leaning back. I didn’t know what he meant, so I said nothing, waiting for him to go on.

  “She’s been so strong, you know? When he first came back into her life it was hard, obviously, but once she said what needed to be said it gradually became easier for her to move on with her life. Then when he was diagnosed and had no place else to go, everything came to a standstill.”

  “What about her mother?” I asked. “She hasn’t mentioned her to me. Is she still around?”

  Carter shook his head. “Who knows,” he said flatly. “From what I gather she doesn’t want anything to do with him, and as a result, wants nothing to do with Sarah. They were talking for a while, her mother and father, but it all fell apart and no one but them knows why.

  I picked at the rim of my cup. “Has anything like this ever happened before, where he became…I don’t know, that person again?”

  “Never,” Carter said, meeting my eyes. “Not once. When he moved in, it was tense at first, but it wasn’t like Sarah thought it would be. She thought she’d be walking on egg shells, like in the old days, but it became abundantly clear that he was sincere in his apology and was a totally different person.”

  “Talk about an odd couple though, right?”

  “You’re telling me. For the longest time we kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Mr. Hyde to rear his ugly head, but up until tonight, nothing.”

  “God, I can’t imagine how difficult that must’ve been for her.”