Tension

by R. L. Griffin

  Her life was all about steps now. This step was essential to get money to fund the remaining steps in her plan. The hardness in her chest felt comfortable and familiar now. She welcomed it when she was by herself, but when she was with George, it was tough. It was difficult to pretend she wasn’t changed and almost impossible to hide that fact from the man she loved.

  Attempting to hide her newfound rigidity from George was her goal when she woke up every morning. She wanted him to find comfort in the fact she remained the wrecked girl that fell hard for the bartender who made her realize she could feel again. George stuck with her when she didn’t know why anyone would. His love for her was so passionate and complete it took her breath, but everyone has their limits. Stella was pretty sure he’d reach his crazy Stella limit soon, and then he’d walk away. She didn’t know why he didn’t walk away after his first escape from the train wreck that was her life. George amazed her with his strength in dealing with her and her ten suitcases of baggage she brought with her everywhere she went. Stella was petrified that George would realize what she’d turned into and leave her. George was a good guy, exactly what she needed. He grounded her, if that was possible.

  Stella desperately wanted to protect George from herself. When they first met she was a mess, but this new hardness inside her was a constant reminder that she wasn’t good enough for him. A reminder that George deserved someone better, even better than the old Stella. The truth was, she wanted George more than anything. She craved his love, his stability, his support, his dimples… She craved the normalcy that George offered. When she was with him, really with him, she caught glimpses of how her life could be. They could just be a couple with a dog and a sex life (and, admittedly, some paparazzi) and that was all she really needed.

  It was more than just being selfish; more than taking what she wanted and needed from George. It was hate and vengeance. The hardness pulled her into a darkness that would smother her and she’d be damned if she was taking him down with her. She’d almost rather he leave her sorry ass before she dragged him into her pit of despair.

  Risking everything was severe, but she couldn’t help herself. To alleviate the hardness she was trapped in, to shed light on her dark life, to break out of this shell, she had to rid herself of the man that caused it. She had to find Jamie. She had to rid the world of him. That’s what she planned on doing. That was step four. That was the goal.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Deck the Halls

  The weekend after Thanksgiving, George told her to get ready because they were going Christmas tree shopping. Apparently his family always drove to the same tree farm in Leesburg, Virginia, for a tree, and he wanted to get a tree with her this year. Stella hesitantly agreed.

  When he’d told her their plans, he leaned in and spoke softly in her ear. “I want to make new memories with you. The holidays don’t have to be depressing, you know.”

  “I know,” Stella whispered. Before Jamie pretended to die, Christmas was great. Why should that motherfucker taint Christmas? She was done giving Jamie any power over her. With the exception of hate, she had no feelings toward the man she’d once planned to marry.

  They drove to a huge place in the country and he held her hand as they went up and down every aisle of the farm until they found the perfect tree. She wanted a small one, to start. They didn’t have any decorations or ornaments, so she didn’t see any reason to get a huge tree, no matter how high the ceiling was. He used a chainsaw to cut down a five foot, perfectly full and round Douglas Fir. They threw the tree in the back of his SUV and drove to a little diner near the farm. George was as giddy as a schoolboy the entire drive.

  When they pulled into the parking lot of the diner, George told her to wait. He went over to open her door and helped her out of the SUV. They walked into the diner, holding hands, and picked a booth toward the back. As they sat across from each other, he reached over to hold her hand.

  “This is the start of something epic,” George declared, leaning back in his booth and releasing her hand.

  “Something epic?”

  He nodded. “Me and you. EPIC,” he confirmed. He smiled, unleashing those dimples she loved so much.

  “It’s not really the start, is it?” she teased.

  “This is still the beginning. I’m going to be taking you to this Christmas tree farm when you’re eighty. I’m going to be cutting down the tree and helping you out of my truck. Then we’ll come to this diner for lunch and hot chocolate.”

  “You’re going to be cutting down trees at eighty?” She snorted out a laugh and then covered her mouth.

  “That’s the problem you saw with that story?” George dimples bobbed up and down. “I’m going to be doing so many things for you when I’m eighty.” He gave her a mischievous wink.

  When they got back to his house, George easily carried the tree and put it in the den. Stella had questioned the placement of it so near the fireplace.

  Laughing, George said, “You think this is my first tree here? It’ll be fine.”

  They walked to The Christmas Shoppe together. The only stuff he had his mother had bought for him; they wanted to get their own decorations. The Christmas Shoppe was open year-round and had the most unique ornaments. They laughed the entire time, picking out a selection of traditional bulbs, some Irish St. Nicks, and a few beer ornaments.

  George wanted an angel, but Stella had already picked out a pewter star to top their tree. He had to go to the bar, but left only after giving her strict instructions.

  “Do not put any of these ornaments on our tree,” George insisted, pulling out his sunglasses.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because we’ll decorate together. Preferably naked.” Dimples.

  She kissed his cheek and subtlety grazed her hand over his crotch. “Oh will we...” she said suggestively.

  “Not. Fair.” George adjusted himself, winked, and left.

  Stella waved him away with a smile, paid for their mountain of decorations, and headed home. Home.

  The next morning, George made coffee and pulled out two Santa hats. That’s all they wore as they strung lights and hung the ornaments. Happy.

  Stella sat on the couch looking at the lights on the tree, sipping her coffee, recalling the last few blissful weeks with George. They talked, laughed, had awesome sex, and actually enjoyed each other. Naked, grab-ass tree decorating was part of their new “epic” tradition. The thought of forming a tradition at all made her feel almost normal. It was the best Christmas she’d ever had.

  Her phone beeped, startling her out of her reverie. It was Millie.

  can you do dinner?

  George was working, so why not?

  sure

  Millie’s response was quick.

  with all of us

  Her brow furrowed, she responded.

  Ok

  Millie texted her reply.

  BTW you and George getting your Christmas tree is still trending on twitter

  There is a poll on how long you’ll last

  Or if you’ll end up with Jesse

  Stella shook her head. She wondered if there was a poll on when she would get back to work or when her life would be her own again. Millie quickly shot back with details on dinner; Billy would be there, too. Stella offered to bring a couple bottles of wine. They’d always had a “family” dinner before Christmas and she recognized the fact that she thought of those three as her family. She and Patrick really hadn’t spoken since the gym, but he was giving her space and information when he got it, which was what she’d asked for.

  Releasing the hatred toward him had been a good thing. Although she didn’t trust him, she didn’t hate him anymore. Hate was work and she was tired. She only had enough strength to hate Jamie. Stella was treating Patrick as if he was her real brother; they’d had a squabble and they’d work it out eventually. Right now, being cordial was the best she could manage.

  It was a beautiful day. The sky had only a few clouds scattered
across the horizon. She and Cooper walked the three miles to her old house. By the time they reached the house, the sun had set and the sky turned black. It was unseasonably warm for December and didn’t feel like Christmas at all. The street lamps glowed warmly.

  As she turned down her old street, Cooper picked up the pace and began tugging against her, racing up the familiar steps. Stella didn’t knock, but opened the door and allowed Cooper to run through the house.

  She saw Billy first, in his normal spot on the couch with a video game. “So Billy, what’s up?” she asked, plopping next to him and putting her legs on his.

  “I just got back from San Diego, was there for a couple of weeks. I think Millie and Patrick really like living by themselves,” he said, working the video game controller.

  “How’d you like San Diego?”

  “I think it would’ve been awesome if I’d seen any of it. I worked twelve hours every day, so I didn’t really get to see any of the city.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  “Yep. They didn’t even have the rental video games in the rooms at the hotel. I was pissed.”

  “Oh my shit, what did you do?” Stella exclaimed in mock horror.

  “I drank,” he said, never taking his eyes off the screen.

  “That’s always a good option.” Stella laughed.

  “So you and George like living together?” Billy asked.

  “Um, I guess so.” She wavered. Stella didn’t really know if George liked her being in his house. She hoped so. She’d gotten used to having his arms around her at night. They hadn’t really talked about that since she’d been there. She acknowledged that she sucked as a girlfriend, but as far as staying or going…they should probably have one of those important talks soon.

  “I mean, like, that’s a pretty big step from being broke up. Right?”

  “It’s huge.”

  “Things going well?”

  “So far, so good.” She smiled. “I’m going to Georgia after Christmas. My mom has been kinda crazy about me going down there. She’s relentless.”

  “Well, I can understand her wanting to take care of you,” Billy responded. “My mom would’ve shit and moved in here with me.”

  “Dinner’s ready!” Millie yelled from the kitchen.

  Patrick pushed open the back door and walked in with four steaks he’d been grilling outside. Cooper followed him inside, his tail wagging rapidly. He was clearly happy to be home.

  They all met at the table and Stella poured the wine. Cooper sat next to Patrick, his head even with the table.

  “Let’s toast,” Millie said, raising her glass. “Let’s hope next year is better than the last.”

  “That’s your fucking toast?” Stella asked.

  “Babe, that’s a sucky toast.” Patrick laughed.

  Millie pouted. “I thought it was a good one. Like it would definitely come true.”

  “How about this one? To everyone being alive and together for dinner this year.” Patrick winked at Stella.

  They talked all night. Stella enjoyed herself; it was like old times. They went through four bottles of wine. At the end of the night, Stella got Cooper and started the walk home. Her phone beeped when she was about a block away.

  It was Patrick.

  be careful

  Stella tugged Cooper to the left and walked past a group of women waiting to get into a bar. She replied.

  i will

  Her phone beeped again. She looked down.

  seriously

  Does he know something I don’t? Stella slid the phone back in her pocket. Nah, he’s just being Patrick. Stella relaxed into her walk and pondered her plan. It wasn’t much of one, but she now had money to pay Jesse for the gun he was going to get her. He offered to pay for the gun, but she already felt bad enough with all the help he was giving her. Her strength training would continue and Jesse was taking her shooting. She would find Jamie. That’s all she had at the moment; hopefully it was enough.

  Stella smiled to herself; there was comfort that their “family” tradition of dinner together (with no presents) continued even though everything was so different. It reminded her they were her rocks; no matter what happened, she would always have Billy, Patrick and Millie. Always.

  “What is this wine?” Stella took another sip. “It’s fantastic.”

  “Silver Oak. It’s a Cabernet.” George smiled as he brought cheese and crackers to the coffee table. It was Christmas evening and they were recovering from Christmas Eve at the bar and Christmas Day with his family. They were stuffed and exhausted.

  She leaned into him and kissed him.

  “Who knew a bartender of an Irish pub would know about wine. Mmmm, it’s good.” George joked and licked his lips.

  Grabbing a piece of cheese, she smiled. “This Christmas has been so great.” Stella took another sip of wine. “Being with you,” she sighed “I feel so at peace.”

  “I’m glad I can give you that, El.” George put his feet on the table and gazed into the fireplace. “This is what I needed. It’s not that I don’t love my family and you know I love the Christmas Eve buffet, but I need this, with you.” He took her hand and gently kissed her knuckles. “I’m going to miss you.”

  Setting her wine glass down, she climbed into his lap. “I’m glad to be needed for something.” Stella kissed his neck and ran her hands through his hair.

  “You want to go put on that wig for me?” George said, waggling his eyebrows and laughing.

  “I’m going to get a complex if you keep asking…do you have a thing for blondes or something?” She pouted and pushed herself off him to pick up a couple pieces of cheese.

  “I was talking about the red one.” He laughed and pulled her back to him. “You keep sticking your lip out like that and I’m gonna bite it,” George said, showing her his teeth.

  “No, you won’t!” Stella giggled and shoved him away.

  George lunged at her and they both tumbled to the floor. He put all his weight on her, pinning her down. His arms framed her face and hair and he kissed her tenderly, pushing himself up so she could breathe. Stella rolled him over and straddled him, whipping her shirt over her head. Bending down to kiss him again, she felt George unlatch her bra. She threw it across the room.

  “What, you aren’t getting the wig?”

  “You’ll just have to settle for me tonight.”

  After they finished, Stella lay on her back with George on his side, their bodies, slick with sweat, still touching. The flames of the fire warmed her naked body. She hadn’t felt this content and exhausted in a while. Stella’s love for George grew continuously. When he was around, her hardness melted into the background. She wished she could feel this full all the time; full of want, full of need, full of love. Love.

  George got up and grabbed both of their glasses of wine. “Hey,” George said softly in her ear after they’d settled back in the couch. “You’re perfect for me.”

  Stella tilted her head back and laughed so loud it made George start laughing, too. He pushed her hair behind her ear.

  “Your laugh is perfect.”

  The laughter stopped immediately, her face blank. “Now I know you’re lying.” Her head cocked to the side as she looked at him.

  “It’s like you were made for me,” George continued.

  “You are so full of shit right now...” Stella shoved him then burst out laughing again.

  George got up and walked over to the kitchen. Pulling out a drawer, he brought out a small wrapped box. He threw it at her. “I forgot to put this under that beautiful tree.”

  Stella frowned; they’d open presents this morning. She’d gotten George a set of leather bound journals. He was always scrounging around for pieces of paper to write down his thoughts. She’d told him he needed to get an iPad so he could keep all his thoughts in one place, but he’d refused. George said he liked writing his thoughts the old school way. It was evident in his face how much he’d loved them.

  George had gott
en her a red wig, which she loved, and a gift certificate to Sugar House Day Spa in Old Town. Because of her injuries, her muscles were constantly sore and stiff, so she enjoyed massages more than before. Both gifts were very thoughtful and she loved them. He didn’t need to get her anything else.

  She tore the silver paper off the gift and knew the jewelry store’s ring box when she saw it. Her eyes snapped to his. His face was blank, giving away nothing. Oh shit. Is he proposing? Hesitantly, she lifted the lid off the box. “Oh my God, George!”

  He started laughing. “Do you like it?”

  “It’s gorgeous,” she answered. “It’s too much.”

  “You should’ve seen your face, Love.” George’s green flecks twinkled with mischief. “Are you that scared of marrying me?” He laughed at her scowl. He knew better than to surprise her with a marriage proposal. She wasn’t quite ready. “And it’s not too much, because it’s what I wanted to get you.”

  Stella pulled out the solitaire diamond and secured the necklace around her neck. It sparkled under the light from the fireplace and matched the earrings that George gave her the Christmas after they’d broken up.

  “I think you might have been made just for me,” Stella said, gazing into George’s eyes.

  “I think you might be right.”

  “Love, do you believe in fate?” George traced the tattoo on her back with his fingers, causing goose bumps to rise all over her body.

  “No,” Stella said, her face smashed into the pillow.

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t believe in much,” she answered and turned on her back, the sheet just brushing her waist. She fingered the necklace he’d given her last night.

  “God...you’re gorgeous.” George leaned in and kissed her, parting her lips with his.