05 Take Me Home for Christmas
Page 28
“The decision’s been made. Worrying won’t help.” As he rested his arms on the edge of the Jacuzzi, she couldn’t help admiring his biceps. But she loved his hands most. She’d always loved his hands.
“I was thinking of getting a tree tomorrow,” he said, changing the subject.
Her headache was back and rising to new proportions. She rubbed her temples in an effort to ease the pain. “For the garden? What kind of tree?”
He gave her an expression that said, Are you really asking that question? “There’s a little thing called Christmas coming up.”
“Oh. Of course.” Thanksgiving had been hard for her. She wasn’t looking forward to Christmas.
“I thought maybe you’d like to go with me,” he said.
She knew better than to think Eve would be pleased if she accepted. “No, thanks. I’ve got other plans.”
Her response seemed to surprise him. “Like what?”
“I’m walking over to the library in the morning.”
“For...”
“They’re offering that typing class Alexa took last summer.”
“Sounds like a good idea.” He squinted through the steam. “I’m willing to wait until afternoon, if that’s more convenient.”
Wasn’t Eve going with him?
Either way, being around Ted would only confuse her, make her want things she couldn’t have. For once, she was going to protect herself. She was going to get out of the mess she was in and figure out how to stand on her own two feet, even if it killed her.
And sometimes she thought it would. When she woke up this morning and realized what she’d done, she’d been ready to give up. Booze would beat her even if she overcame everything else. So why try?
Then she’d remembered the night Eve had appeared in her room and dragged her out of bed to eat the first real meal she’d had in days. Maybe, because of their current circumstances, they couldn’t be friends, but that moment had left an indelible impression on Sophia. She needed to honor the spark Eve had given her, as well as the promise she’d made that night to keep fighting, regardless of how bad it got.
“I’m afraid I don’t have time for stuff like that this year,” she said. “After the library, I’ve got to get online and see if I can find an inexpensive car. There are places advertising that they’ll finance anyone. ‘Good credit. Bad credit...’ You’ve heard the ad.”
“You have a busy day planned.”
“I need to take advantage of my off-hours. I’ve got to become independent.” She spoke with the determination she felt, but a small part of her still feared that the odds against her were too high.
“Can you make time for an AA meeting tomorrow night?” he asked.
“I have no way to get there,” she said. “That’s why I’m hoping to buy a car as soon as possible.”
“I’ll take you until you can arrange your own transportation.”
She raised a hand. “That’s okay. I’d feel too guilty dragging you to something like that. You don’t deserve the humiliation or the tedium of hearing everyone’s story.”
“What’s your story?”
“You don’t want to hear that, either,” she said. “Anyway, I know Eve wouldn’t like it if I dragged you off.”
He started to speak, then changed his mind. “Eve’s very supportive of you. She was really excited when I hired you.”
She gave him a sad smile as she climbed out of the Jacuzzi. “That was before,” she said.
28
Before he’d started sleeping with Eve.
Ted understood what she meant. Essentially, he’d cost Sophia her only friend. Although he hadn’t recognized that until tonight—hadn’t even thought about it that way—she was right. Before Halloween, Eve had been all about helping Sophia. After he took Eve to bed, that changed. Eve hadn’t been unfriendly. She hadn’t even said anything bad about Sophia. But she’d stopped reaching out to her.
“Damn,” he said with a sigh. As much as Eve and his other friends teased him for being ambitious and organized and having his shit together, he’d taken a wrong turn last month. The only thing he’d succeeded in doing was making life harder, for himself and both women. He still had to face his feelings for Sophia. The past four weeks with Eve had done nothing to change that.
And getting together with Eve hadn’t been his only mistake. He remembered saying, when Skip’s body washed up on the shores of Brazil, that Sophia would solve her problems by hooking up with another guy who had the money to bail her out of the mess she was in. But he’d seen no evidence of that. She hadn’t been out partying. She hadn’t brought anyone home. She didn’t have access to the internet in the guesthouse, so she wasn’t cruising the dating sites.
He liked what he saw in her, despite her problems. She’d proven herself to be a loving mother. She did her best to earn what he paid her, even if it meant staying late. And she never took advantage of what he was willing to do for her. He was impressed whenever he found a receipt with $3.58 on the counter or some other odd amount that showed him how hard she was trying to be honest. Those were traits anyone should be able to admire.
* * *
Ted didn’t tell her he and Eve had broken up, but Sophia soon figured it out. It was sort of obvious when Eve didn’t come over for the next three weeks. It became even more obvious when he had Sophia and Alexa decorate his Christmas tree, do the Christmas shopping for his business contacts and eat dinner with him instead of carrying their meals out to the guesthouse.
Even if all of that hadn’t given it away, she would’ve realized they were no longer seeing each other on the eighteenth, when she overheard him arguing with his mother. Mrs. Dixon must’ve told him he was making a big mistake letting Eve go because he responded with comments like, “I love her, too. Just not in that way.” And, “It’s my life. I have to trust my own judgment.”
As conspicuous as Eve’s sudden absence was, Sophia never mentioned it, and she told Alexa not to say anything, either. She thought that if he wanted to talk about his love life, he’d bring it up—but he didn’t, so she focused on her job, taking care of her daughter, practicing her typing and handling as many errands as possible so Ted could finish his book.
He was working hard, spending long days at the computer, but he found time to drive her to an AA meeting every other night. He also helped her negotiate with a bankruptcy attorney, whom she put on retainer with the small amount she managed to save so far, which stopped Skip’s creditors from hounding her. And because she hadn’t been able to find a car, the weekend before Christmas he took her to Sacramento to shop for one. Alexa had been planning to come with them but she’d made friends with a whole new group of girls and stayed behind when she got the opportunity to go on a two-day snowmobile trip.
“How come you haven’t asked me about Eve?” Ted wanted to know as they drove.
Sophia shifted in the confines of her seat belt. “I figured it wasn’t my place.”
“I see.”
“Is she okay, though? With how things turned out?” She’d considered calling but was afraid Eve would misinterpret the gesture. Sophia didn’t want her to think she was secretly celebrating—or had been rooting against her from the beginning.
Sophia did, however, feel a certain amount of relief....
“Eve’s a great person,” he said. “She’ll be fine.”
“And the rest of the gang? What do they have to say about it?”
“Fortunately, not too much. It’s a bit...uncomfortable when we go to coffee. She’s not really speaking to me yet, which is hard. But we’re trying not to let what happened ruin our friendship or the chemistry of the group.”
“Are you sure you won’t regret breaking up with her? I mean...who wouldn’t want a girlfriend like Eve?” As far as Sophia was concerned, Eve had it all—looks, personality and c
haracter.
“What makes you think I broke it off?”
She was territorial enough to have kept a close watch. But she couldn’t admit that. “I saw the way she looked at you.”
He glanced over at her. “I feel bad enough, okay?”
She pulled her own gaze back to the road before he could realize that she looked at him the same way. “Just being honest.”
“It was a mistake to try to make more of our relationship. I shouldn’t have started it to begin with.”
If Eve couldn’t win Ted’s heart, who could? Certainly she had no chance, which was why she’d been careful to keep their conversations and interaction so impersonal the past few weeks. She couldn’t afford to get her hopes up just because Eve was out of the picture. Who’d want the town pariah?
Her alcoholism would scare Ted away before he even had a chance to worry about the rest of her problems. How could someone who made so few mistakes ever sympathize with someone who made so many?
He turned down the volume on the radio. “Kyle said he gave you a call this week.”
She pretended to be absorbed in the scenery flying past her window. “He did.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“He said he invited you to his company Christmas party last Thursday. He thought it might be nice for you to get out and enjoy yourself, enjoy the season.”
“I couldn’t go,” she said. “Alexa had a math test the next day. I was helping her study.”
“Is that the one she aced?”
The memory of that fat red A at the top of her daughter’s paper brought Sophia a great deal of relief and pleasure. Alexa’s schoolwork required a lot more effort than it used to, probably because neither one of them had any emotional reserves. But the effort was paying off. Her daughter was doing much better. If she kept it up, there’d be no danger of her flunking seventh grade. “That’s the one.”
Ted had been so pleased when she showed it to him that he’d insisted on taking them out for ice cream and posting her test on his fridge.
“Okay, that explains why you refused Kyle,” he said. “What about Riley?”
“He told you he called me, too?”
“He mentioned it in passing.” He turned to glance at her. “He also mentioned that you said you had to work. He thought I was being an ogre.”
“He wanted to go to the Victorian Christmas Celebration tonight.”
“And you didn’t?”
“It’s not that, it’s just...it makes no sense to ask me to something so...public. Why would anyone want to be seen with me?”
“I’m sure he knew your situation before he asked, Sophia.”
“He only understands part of my situation.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He doesn’t know about my drinking problem. And I don’t want to tell him. I’d rather your friends think highly of me—well, as highly as they can, considering that most of my shortcomings are common knowledge.”
“You’re saying you’re not going to date anybody?”
“Not in Whiskey Creek.”
“Other alcoholics date and marry.”
“I wouldn’t risk letting someone fall in love with me if they didn’t know, and what’s the point of telling if I’ll be leaving soon?” Even if she wasn’t planning to leave, she wouldn’t date the guys Ted hung out with. She found Riley more handsome than Kyle, but she knew there were women who’d claim the opposite. Handsome didn’t matter. And it didn’t matter that they were nice. A relationship with either one wouldn’t end well, because she was in love with someone else. That was the mistake she’d made when she’d gone out with Skip—she’d gotten involved with a man who, in her mind and in her heart, couldn’t compare to Ted.
She’d been trapped for nearly fourteen years thanks to that poor choice.
“All you do is hang around the house when you’re off,” he said. “You might want to get out and have some fun once in a while.”
“It wouldn’t be fair to waste their time or money.” She’d been so engrossed in the conversation that she hadn’t been paying attention to where they were going. When Ted had exited the freeway, she assumed he was heading to Fulton Avenue and all the car dealerships along that street. But this didn’t look like...
Wait a minute! They were right by the hospital where her mother was institutionalized....
“Where are we going?” she asked.
At the alarm in her voice, he said, “It’s okay. I thought we could stop by and check on your mother, maybe drop off a little gift. And if you’re feeling up to it, we can visit her for a few minutes. But only if you’re feeling up to it.”
Sophia’s heart began to pound. It was difficult to come here, to see her mother in this setting. Elaine was so far from the woman she’d once been. To make matters worse, Sophia feared the same type of mental illness could overtake her and she’d be facing a similar future. The memories of how disjointed and upsetting their conversation on Thanksgiving had been made her anxiety that much more intense.
But when she looked at Ted, he said, “I’ll be right there beside you,” and somehow that gave her the courage to buy a poinsettia and some chocolates and carry them through those doors.
* * *
The visit with Sophia’s mother proved every bit as painful as Ted had feared. While they were there, she had almost no lucid moments. She didn’t seem to care that she had visitors, probably because she didn’t recognize them. She rambled incessantly about all kinds of things, including her underwear, which embarrassed Sophia and filled Ted’s mind with images he didn’t want to see. She tried to eat the poinsettia and ignored the chocolates, despite the fact that she was obsessed with the vending machine, specifically the candy bars it held. Sophia kept giving her dollar bills so she could slide them into the “magic slot,” as she called it. She ate four of the same kind of candy bar inside twenty minutes.
Before long, Ted was kicking himself for bringing Sophia to the hospital. When the idea first occurred to him, he’d been hoping for one special moment, one glimmer of reassurance or love from mother to daughter. He knew what it would mean to a woman who’d lost as much as Sophia. But now he thought they’d to have to leave without that—especially as Elaine’s behavior became increasingly erratic and the nurses checked in every few minutes, as if they were concerned about where it might lead.
“She can become violent,” one gently warned. “It doesn’t happen often, but you should be prepared.”
When Sophia had to use the restroom and left Ted alone with Elaine, he couldn’t quit squirming in his seat. He’d assumed he could handle this, that his calm would help Sophia cope. But he was pretty sure he found Elaine’s condition as upsetting as Sophia did. He tried to talk to her, to tell her what Skip had done and how badly her daughter needed some kind word, but she wasn’t paying attention. She kept rocking back and forth and babbling nonsense. Then she got up, returned to the vending machine and started shaking it.
She seemed to forget he was even there, but he cleared his throat, reminding her, and she came back to the table.
“Money!” she demanded.
Ted didn’t mind giving her a few bucks, but he worried about letting her eat so much candy at one time. He was afraid it would make her sick. What if she discovered that the chocolates they’d brought were just as delicious as the candy she was getting out of that machine? She’d eat the whole pound on top of what she’d already had.
“Tell you what,” he said. “If, when Sophia comes back, you’ll give her a hug and tell her you love her, I’ll leave enough money that you can buy a treat every day for a long time.”
“Money!” she demanded, as if he hadn’t just stated his terms.
“Did you hear me?” he said. “Will you do it? I know you can do it.” He
actually didn’t know that, but he was hoping to encourage her. Of all the things he could give Sophia, for Christmas or otherwise, he thought this would mean the most.
Her dark eyes studied him as if he was a creature she’d never encountered before. “Who are you?”
“Ted Dixon.”
“Are you here to kill me?” she asked.
“Definitely not.”
“You look mean.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Why are you here?”
“I came with your daughter. We used to date. You don’t remember?”
“I don’t have a daughter,” she said as if she was tired of hearing otherwise and didn’t want one, regardless.
He had to wonder if she’d convinced herself that Sophia didn’t exist because it eased the pain of those moments when she came back to “herself” and remembered everything she’d lost. Or if she really believed, consistently, that she was childless. Maybe it would be just as difficult for Sophia, possibly more difficult, if Elaine remembered and begged to be released from the facility. He winced when he considered how helpless he’d feel if it was his mother in here.
“You do,” he insisted. “Her name is Sophia.”
“I like that name,” she said.
The door opened as Sophia returned, and he shoved the See’s Candies toward Elaine to distract her. He didn’t want her to say anything else about not having a daughter—or that she liked Sophia’s name as if she’d never heard it before. “Maybe you’d enjoy one of these.”
She knocked the box aside—almost onto the floor—and cast a longing glance at the vending machine. That was when Ted decided it was time to give up. He’d done what he could. This was heartbreaking to watch; he couldn’t imagine what it was doing to Sophia. He’d meant to help, but he was afraid he’d done the opposite. He hoped it wouldn’t send her back into a tailspin.
“We’d better get going or we’ll run out of time to find you a car,” he told her.
He was planning to take her to an AA meeting before they went home, but when he put a hand at her back to propel her from the room, her mother stood up and said, “Don’t go!”