My Winter

by Nikki Young

  “Yeah it is.”

  And with that the room goes quiet.

  I awake the next morning feeling better rested, but then it hits me. It’s Sunday. Fuck my life and fuck Sunday dinner. I scrub my hands over my face dreading having to see my brothers, who I know still talk to Adam. I can’t decide if this is a good thing or a bad thing. The connection to Adam is there, but I’d like my brothers’ loyalty to lie with me. This is the last thing I feel like doing today.

  I roll over and find Cari gone. Leaving the bed, I pull a hoodie off Cari’s bedroom floor and slip it over my head. The air is cold and winter isn’t letting up. It’s snowed every day for a week now making me hate it even more. I run my hands up and down my arms trying to warm myself.

  Cari’s sitting on the couch and when I make eye contact with her, she quickly looks away. I drop down next to her on the couch and wait for her to indicate she’s okay. When she doesn’t, I can’t help but ask.

  “Cari, are you sure you’re okay?” I wait, but she says nothing. “You don’t have to hide it from me. I know you’re strong, much stronger than me, but sometimes it’s okay to show weakness.”

  “I’m gonna be fine, but if or when I breakdown, you’ll be the first person to know.” She lies back on the couch and sighs. That’s my cue to leave her alone. This is the way Cari is and I know she’ll come to me if she needs me.

  We spend the rest of the day watching TV and napping. When the evening approaches, I begin to fill with dread. I missed dinner last Sunday, telling my mom I was sick, which wasn’t a total lie. I was sick. I was sick over losing Adam, sick with guilt and regret and total disgust with myself. Knowing there are far too many questions and avoidance isn’t going to help; I haul myself off the couch and put very little effort into getting ready. No shower, no makeup and why bother changing my clothes.

  My family knows Adam and I broke up. I’m not certain they know the details, since I haven’t bothered to call them back and I’m still fine with that.

  I never regretted bringing Adam along every Sunday until now. This is the first one I’ve attended that will be spent without him and I can only hope that I hold it together.

  When I pull in the driveway, I feel the nausea churn in my stomach. This is pointless. I haven’t eaten much since Adam and I split, so I’m not sure why I’m even here. The thought of eating, and if I’m being honest, the thought of doing anything other than drinking myself to sleep has little appeal.

  I open the front door and neither of my brothers makes an attempt at a greeting. Great, they’re pissed at me.

  I walk past them without a word. Entering the kitchen, I find Sarah sitting at the kitchen table, her hands resting on her belly.

  She smiles at me and I bend down, placing one hand on her belly and a kiss on her cheek.

  “Tuesday,” she says with a sigh.

  “Finally, huh?” I respond back.

  “I know. It’s been forever. I’m almost two weeks late.”

  “Poor girl,” I say and she smiles weakly.

  “Nah,” she says pausing before saying, “How are you?” Her tone indicates concern rather than the informality of the question.

  “I’m fine,” I tell her hating the word fine. It’s what’s used when you don’t want to discuss something. It indicates indifference and doesn’t allow for more questions, which is exactly what happens.

  Seconds later my mom and Meagan come in from the garage. My mom carrying a pie and Meagan a loaf of garlic bread, stopping in the doorway when our eyes meet.

  “Will everyone please stop staring at me,” I implore. “I’m not made of glass. I’m fine.” I instantly feel bad for snapping at them. “I’m sorry,” I say quietly.

  I turn to the oven and pull open the door. I’m met with the smell of garlic and tomatoes and my stomach churns again. Lasagna. I’m sure my mom doesn’t even realize it, but this was the exact meal she served when I broke up with Ellis. Winter sucks for so many reasons; why not add lasagna to the list of things that suck, too.

  Letting the oven door go, it slams shut and I mumble, “Well fuck,” making my mom turn and look at me.

  Sarah pulls herself up out of the chair as Meagan gestures toward the living room.

  As they leave, my mother’s glare turns icy. I roll my eyes and she lets out a huff.

  “Leah, you might be thirty-two years old, but I’m still your mother. You have no one to blame but yourself. You put yourself in this situation and as much as it breaks my heart to see you hurting, I’m angry with you for being so thoughtless with someone else’s feelings.”

  I cut her off. “You’re taking his side?” I ask, not bothering to hide the indignation in my voice.

  “I’m not taking anyone’s side, Leah,” she retorts back just as sharply. “The way I see it, you have two options, get over yourself and move on or fight for what you love. If you truly love Adam, then get it together and do whatever you have to do to make this right.”

  “He won’t talk to me,” I say quietly. “How am I suppose to make it right if he won’t even speak to me?” I look down at the ground; somehow my mom can still make me feel like a child.

  “I don’t know. That’s the hard part. You need to make him understand, make him see how wrong you were. It won’t be easy, but don’t just quit. I saw the look on that boy’s face every time he looked at you. It’s unmistakable, Leah. He loves you, but you hurt him. Wounded his pride and made him think he can’t trust you. Put yourself in his place.”

  With every word, she makes me feel more and more guilty, but I guess that’s her job as my mother. I can only nod my head in response to her words. I know I need to make this right, but how, I just don’t know.

  Dinner goes along relatively smooth and thanks to my sister in laws; I avoid having to hear about my breakup with Adam from my brothers. For some reason, they’re the only ones in the family who don’t feel sorry for me. I don’t know why I’m looking for sympathy. I don’t deserve it.

  I leave with my mom’s words playing in my head. I want so badly to make it right. If not right, I, at least need to hear him say we’re done. His lack of response has only added to my anxiety.

  I find myself where I always have. He won’t fight for me. He’s turned his back without giving me a chance. This is the one time I want to fight. I want to scream and yell and force him to listen to me.

  I drive to his apartment as all of this is burning inside me. I instantly take notice that the lights are off in his unit. I can see it from the street as I drive by. Parking my car, I take a few deeps breaths and convince myself to get out. I approach the bank of buzzers, my coat drawn tight around my body as the wind blows its frosty air against my face. I press Adam’s buzzer once and wait. I have no idea what I’m going to say to him if he answers. I haven’t thought that far ahead. The fact that I’m even standing here says a lot.

  After about ten seconds I get no response. I press it again, this time holding the button a few seconds longer. I press it three more times and with each press I grow more anxious. My hands are shaking and tears well in my eyes. He’s not home or he’s ignoring me.

  I shuffle back to my car, defeated and feeling worse than when I arrived. Starting the car, I take my phone from my purse and text him.

  Me: I came by tonight. I’d really like a chance to talk to you. I miss you. A lot.

  I hit send on my lame attempt at getting his attention and then I wait. Hoping with everything in me that I get a response. But nothing happens and I begin to wonder where he is. Is he on a date? Out of town? A business trip, maybe? When thoughts of him on a date make their way into my head, I squeeze my eyes shut. What if he’s fucking someone else?

  Instead of letting it go, I call him. It rings once, and then during the second ring his voicemail picks up. He sent me to voicemail, but that doesn’t stop me from leaving a desperate loser style message.

  “Adam. It’s Leah. I know I already sent you a text and I’m probably bordering along the lines of a stalk
er, but I need to talk to you. I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen. If you’d just give me a chance to explain...let me talk to you...see you.” I begin to lose it and my voice grows shaky. “Please just call me back. Anything.” And ending the call with an “I love you” seems like a ploy, so I just hang up.

  I drive home feeling lost and hopeless. There isn’t a chance he’s going to respond and I know that, but I don’t want to quit. I don’t want to give up on something that felt so right.

  Cari’s already in bed when I get home and knowing that sleep will elude me completely; I take a bottle of wine from the refrigerator. The nightmares don’t end and sleep has become an awful task that promises nothing but pain and heartache.

  Numb. That’s what I want to feel, so I drink, a lot, hoping I’ll wake up older and maybe I’ll just move on. I’m lying to myself.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The next morning I wake up hungover and feeling worse than when I went to bed last night. Cari has already left for work. It consumes her now. A distraction of sorts to keep her busy, so she doesn’t have time to dwell on what has happened with Jimmy. I wish I could take her approach, but drinking is easier. She doesn’t have much of a choice, her pregnancy dictates how she can cope and coping doesn’t include alcohol.

  Work is the last thing on my mind as I fight off the feeling of vomit that looms. The bus ride into work does nothing to ease the feeling and I exit one stop earlier than normal hoping the cold air will quell this feeling. Stopping at the closest Dunkin Donuts, I duck in quickly trying to avoid the cold as a chill takes over my body. Coffee and a donut should help.

  As I pull open the door, my shoulder bumps into a person trying to exit. I look up taking in his eyes and I suddenly stop moving. The world comes to a standstill, like a dream or a nightmare or the worst experience of my life. Frozen, I say nothing and neither does he and for a split second we make eye contact. But the world catches back up and his gaze falls over his shoulder and he smirks at the woman behind him. She falls in line next to him as they leave together.

  “Adam,” I say quietly and it repeats in my head. Just the sound of his name causes me pain. I step out the door, sucking in a deep breath, because what just happened feels like a knife in my chest. I watch him walk away. Again.

  I stand breathless and nauseous on the sidewalk and when he looks back at me his eyes are cold and devoid of emotion. His mouth sent in a firm line and when his eyes take me in, it’s like they look right through me. It’s then that I know it’s over.

  But somehow it still doesn’t stop me from wanting him. If anything it makes it worse. I feel like there’s a reason he’s here and I want to follow him and beg him on my hands and knees to forgive me. And something in me wants to punch the girl with him...in the throat.

  But I don’t move. Instead, I stand devastated and pathetic on the sidewalk in the freezing cold, shaking and unsure of what to do next. I won’t just give in and walk away like he did. There was something between us and I know there still is because I can’t stop thinking about him. I see him when I close my eyes, never leaving and haunting every moment of my life. It’s always been him.

  My desperation or my complete lack of self-respect takes over and I head straight for Adam’s office, which is only a few blocks away. If he won’t return my calls or my texts, then he gets to deal with me in person. I need to find a way to get him to listen to me.

  As soon as I exit the elevator I lock eyes with the receptionist. I’m on a mission today and I won’t be fucked with. Instead of stopping at the desk, I walk right past with my eyes focused on Adam’s office. In the fifteen minutes it took me to walk here I’ve found my confidence and I’m now spurred on by anger and hurt and guilt and the need to make him hear me.

  When I reach his office it’s dark and just the way it looks breaks my heart. I open the door and my throat tightens. It smells like him and I can’t fight the tears, falling hard as the hole in my heart rips open wider. Any confidence I had has long since disappeared and I suddenly wonder what I’m even doing here. I’m crazy. Adam has driven me to lose my fucking mind.

  I long for something safe and now I have nothing. I’ve failed and I deserve to feel helpless and hopeless. I ruined something that was perfect.

  I need to leave before he returns and judging by the way I came in here, I’m guessing the receptionist has possibly called the police.

  I turn to leave, but find Mike leaning against the doorjamb, his one foot crossed over the other and his arms folded along his chest. A weak smile on his mouth, but what I see in his eyes is pity.

  “Leah,” he says stepping into the office and closing the door. “I was wondering when you’d show up here.”

  “I’m sorry,” I quickly sputter out. “I was just leaving.”

  “You don’t need to go. He’s out with a client all day today.”

  Relief floods my chest and I almost curse out loud at the way my body eases. He’s not with the woman I saw him with today, at least that’s what I tell myself to subside the anxiety.

  “No, I do. I shouldn’t be here.” I start toward the door moving past Mike, but he takes ahold of my elbow stopping me.

  “He’s a mess, Leah.”

  “So am I, obviously,” I say trying to laugh through the pain. “Listen, I gotta go. Do me a favor, don’t tell Adam I was here.”

  Mike gives me a brief nod and tries to smile, but falls short. “He loves you.”

  “Yeah,” I say stopping him before he can speak again. “But he can’t forgive me, so it doesn’t matter.”

  “He will, just give him time.” This time instead of smiling, he reaches for me and pulls me into a hug. “I know we don’t know each other all that well, but I know Adam and I know he needs you. Be patient.”

  I give him a forced smile as I leave the office. I can’t believe I have become this obsessed with getting Adam back. So obsessed in fact that I have left far too many messages, sent endless texts and to top it all off, I stalked him at his office. I’m so completely pathetic. I need to stop this.

  Arriving at my office after trudging through dirty snow and puddles, I’m already done with this day. Pulling my coat off as I enter my cubicle, I find a welcome surprise.

  There he is sitting in my desk chair. His hands clasped behind his head, leaning back, foot resting on his knee as he gives me a mischievous smile. He’s always been a smug little shit and judging by the grin on his face, he knows it. He’s far too handsome for his own good with his disheveled curly dark hair and brown eyes. He’s always had this nerdy-hot thing going on and today is no exception. A complete contrast to Cari, which is why I think I loved them together.

  “Miss me?” Jimmy asks flashing his beautiful straight teeth in a huge smile.

  “You bet your ass,” I answer back as he stands up. I throw myself into his arms and for the first time since losing Adam I’m feeling happy. He squeezes me hard, lifting me off the ground and I laugh. “Cari know you’re here?”

  “Nope. I scheduled a meeting with Bill today specifically because I knew she was going to be gone.”

  “Why are you meeting with the boss?”

  There’s that smug grin of his again. “Why do you think?” he asks turning the question back at me. He winks and I roll my eyes. “I’m not letting her do this alone. That would make me a dick. I’m not a dick, Leah.”

  “I know you’re not. I think you’re pretty fucking great actually and eventually she’ll realize it too.” I smile at him before asking, “Have you found a place to live?”

  “Yep. I rented a place in Cari’s building.”

  “Oh, Jimmy,” I say shaking my head at him. “She’s gonna kick your ass when she finds out.”

  Jimmy chuckles as he grabs me and wraps his arm around my shoulders. “Wanna get the fuck outta here?” he asks.

  I nod my head responding, “I couldn’t have said it better myself.” Heading to the elevators I ask, “Where to?”

  “Any place we can
get a drink.”

  Took us a bit of walking to find a bar that opened before eleven. A dive bar that looked to have been in business since the sixties, ended up being the winner, since it was the first one with an open sign glowing in the window. Looking around, the place is deserted; I shouldn’t be surprised, it’s only ten in the morning. It smells of stale beer and peanuts, salt mixed with yeast and tinged with cedar.

  The bartender has run a towel over the bar at least eight times and has now moved on to drying and stacking pint glasses. Tedious work, but there’s not much else to do. How much scotch can two people drink? I think this as the bartender stops what he’s doing and sets two more glasses in front of us.

  Jimmy and I haven’t said more than two words to each other since setting foot in here. It’s not awkward though. It’s almost like neither of us knows what to say to the other. Both in the same situation and maybe all we really need, is to commiserate together.

  Jimmy knows Adam and I split up. He knows it’s been hard and he knows what I did to cause it all. After a few days of ignoring his calls and texts, I sent him an email. I can’t shut him out the way Cari has. Before he was Cari’s boyfriend, Jimmy became one of my best friends and still is.

  Jimmy and I met when I was sent to Denver for training. We clicked instantly and I was the one who forced Cari to give him a second look. He shamelessly hit on her and all she did was turn her nose up at him.

  She may hate him, maybe she’ll never forgive him, but I won’t lose him as my friend.

  I run my hand along the worn wooden surface of the bar as Jimmy and I both sit mindlessly staring.

  “So, guess we’re fucked, huh?” he says after he shoots the last of the scotch in his glass. The bartender glances over and Jimmy signals him with two fingers. At that point I put back what’s in my glass and wait for round three.

  “Yeah, guess so.”

  “Does this mean I lose you in the divorce? Like a set of dishes or a big ass TV? Dividing of the assets,” he says and although there’s humor to his tone, I know there’s some truth to it too.