Yule Tidings

by Savannah Dawn

  Alex looked at him in surprise. One minute he looked ready to do battle, and the next, immense tenderness filled his voice and eyes as he looked at her. He touched her jaw line more softly than she’d ever experienced before. She shivered under his caress. “Jason, I don’t want you to ruin your relationship with your mother because of me,” she whispered, distracted as he bent down and kissed her, silencing her protests.

  “Alex, I don’t want to talk about this more right now. Take a shower or bath and relax. I’ll come and get you when dinner is almost done.” Jason spoke softly, coaxing her to leave it alone for awhile.

  “Will you promise that you’ll talk with me before you fight with her?” Alex asked, hugging Jason to her.

  “I promise that I will tell you before I call her,” Jason answered, urging her from the kitchen with a gentle push.

  Alex sat in the tub unable to relax. Jason was going to ruin his relationship with his mother, and it was all because of her. He was only doing this because he felt he had to defend her. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate his devotion, but the thought of coming between Jason and Anne was devastating. She couldn’t help but wish there was another way. If she could only convince Jason that Anne wasn’t so bad, or that she didn’t mind or care how Anne treated her. But truth was truth, and Anne’s treatment wounded Alex deeply. When Jason knocked on the door half an hour later, Alex was no better off than she had been. She couldn’t think of a single argument that might sway his decision.

  “Dinner is almost done,” Jason said, opening the door slightly and peeking his head in to see Alex reclining in the tub.

  “I’ll be right out,” Alex said, standing up and grabbing a towel.

  Jason waited in the living room for Alex. “I thought we’d watch a movie while we eat for a change,” he said, hoping to avoid another discussion. Alex sat on the black suede couch, and took the plate Jason offered her. The flat screen television was already on, and Jason had put in one of her favorite vampire movies. She wanted to smile at his ingenuity.

  “Okay, but I’d still like to talk.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about Lexi. Mom is wrong.” Jason knew his voice was cold and hard, but he refused to let Alex change his mind.

  “Jason, if you could only give her another chance. It can’t be easy being divorced and alone. Maybe she just has a hard time with weddings and marriages.”

  “Nice try, but that’s not her problem.”

  “How do you know that isn’t her problem?”

  “Because, Alex, I know my mother. She likes weddings; it gives her a chance to get sympathy. She cries discreetly in the bathroom, and all of a sudden she has an entourage of people looking after her, empathetic of her grief,” Jason said derisively.

  “Jason, don’t be so harsh,” Alex admonished.

  “It’s not harsh if it’s true, honey. I don’t want to deal with her. I’m waiting until Saturday before calling her, anyway. I figure that should be enough time for me to cool down. Hopefully my mother will have seen the error of her ways by then, also, and all this worry will be for nothing. If not, I’ll have to take more extreme measures.”

  “I don’t understand,”

  “If she apologizes, then fine, maybe we can work something out. I doubt it would be very companionable for a while, but it would be better. If not, well, I’ll explain to her just how I feel and what I expect.” Jason looked at Alex pleadingly, “can we talk about this later? Dinner is done. I don’t want to fight with you, especially when you know I’m right but can’t find it in that sweet little heart of yours to punish someone. Let’s forget about it for now and we can talk more on Friday evening. Okay?”

  Alex knew Jason wasn’t going to listen to her. He didn’t want to hear what she had to say. He was bound and determined to be angry with his mother. He was intent on fighting with her and forcing her to see it his way, and if she didn’t, well, he was washing his hands of the matter. It made Alex want to cry, again. It was so sad. Jason waited for her nod before he started the movie.

  Alex couldn’t just sit back and let Jason ruin his relationship with his mother. She refused to feel like the one guilty for the separation. She had to take matters into her own hands. But what could she do? Her parents would applaud Jason’s decision to stand by her. His sisters had already made it clear that they would support Jason. Alex sat through the movie, paying little attention to the characters on the screen as she contemplated her options. Waiting until the movie was over, Alex picked up the phone and called Franklin while Jason was in the shower. She was desperate. She didn’t want Jason to call his mother in anger, and Franklin knew Anne better than anyone. Maybe he could reason with her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Anne went to work Wednesday morning in a relatively good mood. Her car was running perfectly, she hadn’t hit any more animals in the road, and her ankle was feeling much better. She made calls for the blood drive for the first hour or two before she started filing paperwork and preparing supplies for the various classes the Red Cross offered. The CPR class would be tonight at 7pm, so she had to sterilize the masks. It was a tedious process, but easy. First she would use alcohol around the nose and mouth of the masks, then she’d soak them for several minutes in a strong bleach solution and 110 degree water; from the bleach solution she’d move them to another sink and let tepid water run over the masks for five minutes to rinse off the bleach residue. Once she was confident the bleach residue was properly rinsed from the masks, she’d set them out to dry; after the masks were dry she would wipe the nose and mouth with another alcohol wipe just to be thorough, and then store them in equipment bags. It wasn’t a difficult process, but slow and monotonous. Plus, the bleach solution was strong enough to ruin clothes, so she always brought something to change into while she sterilized. Today, Anne wore the stained white smock and drawstring sweat pants comfortably while she scrubbed the masks. Claire covered the front desk while she was busy in the back, so Anne never worried about her appearance.

  It was today, of all days, that Franklin stopped in to talk to her about Alex. Claire sent him to the back cleaning area, having recognized him as Anne’s ex-husband. Anne looked up to see Franklin standing less than five feet away. He was looking at her with an odd expression on his face; one that she couldn’t exactly read, but she thought she saw pity in his familiar brown eyes and it instantly incited her irritation. “What do you need?” she asked, crossly. It hadn’t escaped her notice that he was dressed in expensive suit pants, a lovely midnight blue dress shirt and a silver tie. Even his leather belt looked new and little used. His streaked gray hair was freshly trimmed, and his mustache was well groomed. He had gained a few pounds since the divorce, but he carried it well and it made his face seem younger somehow. It galled Anne to know that he had come upon her while she looked her worst; especially while he looked so distinguished and reserved.

  “Well, I need to know why Trisha is calling me about paying for her books. I paid last semester, it’s your turn to pay for her books.” Franklin wasn’t angry with Anne anymore. He was overwhelmed. When they were happily married she’d been a fantastic wife and mother; so wonderful and giving. The kids never wanted for love and affection. Though he was gone much of the time, Anne made a home for them and sheltered them with her caring generosity. He’d considered her the perfect wife. Even after the miscarriage the only thing she withheld from him at first was sex. Now she was more than difficult. She refused to pay for random things that Trisha needed, she gave Franklin a hard time whenever he asked her to pay for something, and she was downright vindictive. She snipped at him every time he saw her, and he knew she despised his presence.

  “Because, Franklin, this semester Trisha’s books are twice as much as last semester. I’ve paid four hundred seventy-five already. I can’t afford the full six hundred and fifty dollars right now. You paid three hundred last semester; if you pay one seventy-five then we’ll have paid equally for the entire year, which is what we agreed to do for the
kids,” Anne told him matter-of-factly. It was a reasonable compromise as far as Anne was concerned. She looked at Franklin suspiciously, “is that really why you drove all the way down here?”

  “It’s only forty-five minutes, Anne.” Franklin said irritably, not wishing to give away his true purpose so soon.

  “It was forty-five minutes too long for you to come to Trisha’s basketball games, her honor roll ceremony, her awards ceremony, or even to see her before the prom. The only thing you managed to make it to was her graduation, come to think of it,” Anne said harshly. If Franklin wanted a fight she’d give him one. She was in no mood for his attitude. Standing was making her ankle stiff and her hands burned from the constant contact with the bleach solution.

  There was no escaping it, Franklin thought; he might as well come clean. “I’m actually here because I was going to try to convince you to be reasonable about Jason and Alex; but I see there’s no use,” Franklin said with a sigh. Trisha had explained the situation about her books to him over the phone, and he knew that Anne’s compromise was exceptionally reasonable, especially for her; but it was an excuse to try to talk to her to make things better. Alex had called him, crying, twice in the last week. She was heartbroken over what Anne had said, but even more so over Jason’s determination to cut his mother out of his life. Franklin had tried to explain to Alex that Anne was bitter, but that was no excuse, not really. He knew Jason was being stubborn, but in retrospect, if Franklin had the foresight to defend Anne against his own mother, many of the problems they’d encountered early in their marriage could have been avoided. Indeed, even some of the problems leading up to the divorce might have been negated.

  “I am being reasonable,” Anne said hotly. Of course Franklin would defend the slut, it was just like him. Donna was proof that he had a weakness for an easy lay. “That little hussy is trapping my son. I’m not about to stand by and watch without speaking up.” Anne looked at Franklin in distaste, “you may pretend that you like her just to stay on Jason’s good side, but I won’t!”

  “Alex is not a hussy, Anne. She’s a very sweet, intelligent girl. If you’d only give her a chance; get to know her a little,” Franklin began. He hadn’t really thought much of Alex when Jason first introduced them some eight months ago. She hadn’t said much and she was rather shy and withdrawn, but over time he’d come to appreciate her sarcasm and quick wit. She was a genuinely considerate, tender soul.

  “She’s unmarried and pregnant, how could she be anything but a hussy? How are you so sure it’s even Jason’s baby? No sweet, good girl would be unmarried, living with a man and pregnant.” Anne let the scorn fill her voice. She would not allow Franklin to change her opinion of the girl. She was a worthless piece of trash and Anne wanted to see her tossed out of her son’s home before the marriage became a reality.

  “Oh Anne, come on. Your values might mean something if your own daughter hadn’t lived with a man for a year before they were married. You can’t be foolish enough to believe they never had sex. It was a one bedroom apartment for God’s sake, and they didn’t have a couch for the first six months!” Franklin hadn’t been particularly proud of his daughter, Rose, when she moved in with Brandon, but she’d told him point blank that she wanted to be certain they were meant to be together, because she never wanted to put herself or any children she might have through a grueling divorce as Franklin and Anne had done. He wasn’t able to argue with her, though he doubted that living with Anne for a year before their marriage would have prevented the divorce. Before the miscarriage, the little discrepancies or their personalities hadn’t really been a problem. They were both willing to forgive each other’s faults.

  “Get out, Franklin,” Anne said, refusing to look at him or acknowledge that he’d spoken. She didn’t like to think about Rose’s indiscretion, but at least it was in the past and things had worked out relatively well. Alexia and Jason was happening now, and it was not going to end well, Anne was certain.

  “Anne, whether you like it or not Jason is marrying Alex. You should try to make amends before the wedding. Alex is really hurt and Jason is irate.” Franklin didn’t bother mentioning that Jason wanted nothing to do with her; it probably wouldn’t help anyway. Anne seemed determined to believe what she wanted to believe and nothing he said was making a difference.

  “I don’t care Franklin; I’m not taking it back. I will not stand by complacently while she takes advantage of my son.”

  “It’s not even like that, Anne,” Franklin started, knowing it was in vain. If he told Anne how much he liked Alex it would only make Anne despise her more. The more he defended Alex, the worse Anne’s opinion would be. Franklin looked at her, exasperated. He had no excuse for what came out of his mouth next, except that perhaps he’d had enough of Anne’s hardheartedness, “Anne, she’s pregnant for Christ sakes. You’re making her miserable. Do you want to cause her to miscarry?” The anger seemed to radiate from him in waves. For some reason he was angrier at Anne than he’d ever been in his life, and it struck him forcefully that he’d come to believe Anne wanted Alex to lose this baby, to somehow feel the pain and suffering that Anne had gone through, hoping it would tear Jason and Alex apart as it had Anne and Franklin. Maybe it was retribution; maybe it was her own insecurity about how she handled the miscarriage, but somewhere deep down she wanted someone else to feel her pain and loss.

  “Get the hell out!” Anne screamed at him. “How dare you?” Anne was advancing on Franklin in pure outrage, her hatred of him at the moment reaching its zenith. She couldn’t believe he would bring up a miscarriage to her. He had absolutely no right. “I would leave it to you anyway. You have more experience,” she snapped at him before turning and stalking out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

  Franklin was stunned. He couldn’t believe how far Anne had fallen. She was behaving terribly. He knew she was alone. He even knew she hadn’t dated anyone in the six years since the divorce, but this was worse than he’d ever imagined. She didn’t care at all anymore. She was dressed terribly, her hair thrown on top of her head. She’d gained at least forty or fifty pounds since the divorce, and there was no make-up on her face. She used to care about her appearance. Her hair was always fixed, one way or another, and her make-up was impeccable. She’d never been thin, but her weight hadn’t deterred from her appeal. Indeed, there had been times when he found her more attractive for her soft, round, curvaceous figure. Was he to blame for her current disarray? The kids mentioned how frustrating Anne had become, but Franklin shook it off as her being bitter, but maybe that wasn’t all it was. She wasn’t just bitter, she was miserable and maybe even depressed.

  Franklin left the Red Cross, ignoring the receptionist and the man who waited patiently at the desk to make an appointment to donate blood. He didn’t know what to do. He was no longer in love with Anne, but he didn’t want to see her this way either. She was the mother of his children, the woman he spent twenty-two years of his life with, most of those years happy and contented. He’d only been unfaithful to her when it was clear she wouldn’t or couldn’t be intimate with him. He needed companionship, someone to hold and that would hold him. Anne had denied him for years and he was tired of being alone. He hated feeling as though his urges were wrong. Every time he tried to seduce Anne she would push him away as though he was a disgusting plate of vegetables. If he even brushed up against her in bed she would squirm away, evading him. There were times when she would even leave the bed to sleep on the couch in her desire to prevent the chance of intimacy.

  Donna had been warm and welcoming. Her house was always open to him. She made cookies for him, and he’d often join her for dinner after clearing her driveway on winter evenings. She was always gracious and friendly; willing to listen to whatever he had to say. They would spend hours talking. She was lonely and wanted a friend and he’d been desperate for intimacy for years. Not just sex, though that was part of it, but for someone to speak with. Anne rarely held a conversation with him, and it wa
s at Donna’s house he found solace from Anne’s animosity. He could still remember the first time he kissed Donna. She’d slapped him so hard he thought his eye would pop from the socket. She was sitting on the couch, listening to him talk about work, and she was so attentive to him that Franklin found it hard to resist kissing her. He’d been quite contrite after she slapped him.

  Donna was Anne’s friend, and refused to get romantically involved with Franklin. It took him months to explain his marriage to her. How they never touched and barely spoke. How Anne refused his every caress and embrace. He knew Donna longed for the closeness and affection that Anne scorned. He even went so far as to explain his part in the miscarriage, something he never spoke of with anyone. He explained how he’d killed the baby by accident, and that he could never forgive himself. He didn’t even blame Anne for hating him. Donna was sympathetic. She comforted him, soothed him, but continued to refuse his advances. It wasn’t until she saw how Anne treated him, like a second rate handyman, that she was willing to become involved. As much as she wanted love, she thought Franklin was exaggerating things, or at least making Anne’s behavior seem worse than it really was.

  Franklin looked down the street. Donna was waiting in the car for him, reading. He watched her for a moment, her eyes flitting about the page, a slight smile on her face as she read. Must be a good part in the book, he mused. He had planned on coming alone, but when he told Donna what he wanted to do, she’d insisted on sitting in the car. Anne had a tendency of making a scene, but if Donna was present she wouldn’t; possibly because Donna would defend Franklin, or maybe just because Anne was always too upset when she saw him with Donna to continue her tirade.

  “How did it go?” Donna asked as Franklin climbed into the car.