by Jamie Canosa
“Cal!” Mrs. Parks swatted her son’s arm and I took their momentary distraction to dig into my present.
Tearing open the paper a heavy purple and white coat fell out with gray fur around the hood. Kiernan’s arm snaked around my waist and he leaned in to whisper in my ear, “To keep you warm when I’m not around to do it.”
I wasn’t sure if he meant that the way I took it, but my heart squeezed and I hugged the coat to my chest, reminding myself to breathe. I couldn’t break down in tears in the middle of the Parks’ family Christmas.
The coat was set aside, only to be replaced with another box, and another. In the end I’d opened nice, water-proof boots, as well as several sweaters and a new pair of jeans from Mrs. Parks. Kiernan passed over the last present and I tore right into it, having grown used to being the star of the show. Inside laid a beautiful hat and glove set that matched my coat perfectly. Beside me, mom fidgeted and I caught her frowning at what was in my lap. The set was nicer than what she’d been able to give me—obviously more expensive—but if she didn’t know that money meant diddly-squat to me, then she didn’t know me at all.
Setting the gift on top of the growing pile by my feet, I thanked the room at large before turning to Kiernan. “I have something for you, too. But I want to give it to you when we’re alone.”
“Then let’s go.” Kiernan got to his feet, pulling me up with him and I panicked over the thought of interrupting whatever was supposed to come next.
But Mrs. Parks took it all in stride, asking my mother for help in the kitchen. While Caulder stretched back out on the couch and went back to reading his book, I was all but dragged up the stairs and into Kiernan’s room.
“In a hurry?” I teased.
“You have a present you want to give me in private. I can’t wait to see what this is.” He dropped onto the bed, bouncing a couple times on the mattress before I settled beside him.
“Don’t get too excited. It’s just something I made for you.”
“You made me something?”
Heat rushed to my cheeks and I dipped my head to study the stitching in the blue comforter. “I didn’t have a lot of money and I—”
“I love it!”
“What?” I couldn’t help myself. I looked at him. And the warmth glowing in his eyes heated me all the way to my core.
“Anyone can go to a store and buy something, Jade. To take the time and thought to make me a gift . . . I love it, already.”
“You haven’t even seen it, yet.”
“Then show it to me. But I promise you, I love it.”
Slightly less nervous than I had been ever since I started working on it, I reached into the bag and slipped out the notebook. It was filled, cover to cover, with our story. Or what I wish would have been our story. All of the details we’d discussed—wedding, honeymoon, home, jobs, children, even the stupid Camaro—it was all in there. I poured out my heart and soul onto those pages and I was about to give it all over to the only person in the world I trusted to hold all of that in his hands.
Kiernan took it looking slightly confused.
“Sorry it’s not wrapped.”
He didn’t answer. I’m not even sure he heard me. He just flipped it open and started reading. Oh God, what was I thinking? I should have waited until I was leaving to give it to him. Sitting there while he read was terrifying. I studied the pictures on his dresser, the books on his bookshelf, even the clothes hanging in his open closet—all of which I’d been over more than once already. Anything to avoid looking at him. Until I heard him choke out a ragged breath.
When I dared look at him again, I found him watching me with tears in his eyes. The present was supposed to make him smile. It was supposed to be thoughtful, and clever, and romantic. Instead, I’d made him cry on Christmas. What was wrong with me?
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think—” I reached for the notebook and Kiernan’s hand shackled my wrist.
“Stop. How could you possibly apologize for this? This . . .” He swallowed hard and blinked away the moisture in his eyes. “Jade, this is the best gift anyone’s ever given me in my entire life. The one thing I want more than anything, the one thing nobody can give me, is a future. And you’ve just done exactly that. You gave me the perfect future. The perfect life all right here in the pages of this book.”
Now I was the one bordering on tears. “How do you know it’s perfect? You haven’t even read all of it. Maybe you grow a beer gut, and our kids have three arms and green hair.”
That earned me a small smile. “It’s perfect because you created it and you’re perfect.”
“Kiernan, I’m not—”
“Give me one more present today and don’t argue with me about this. Please?”
Shoulders slumped in defeat, I sank into him, resting my head on his shoulder. Kiernan lay back against the headboard, arranging me against his side. “Stay with me while I read it?”
“I can’t—”
“Please? It won’t be the same without you here.”
How was I supposed to say no to him? “Okay.”
With my head resting on his chest, I could hear the steady beat of his heart. His arm folded around my back and I shut my eyes to rest, enveloped in his presence. I knew he was reading only by the turning of the pages. He didn’t make a sound. His only reaction the occasional tightening of his arm around me. And I didn’t move. Not once.
We lay there together for close to an hour before I heard him shut the notebook and set it aside. Even then I held perfectly still, afraid to look at him. Afraid of what I’d see. All hope that he’d assume I’d fallen asleep and leave me be was lost when he tucked his finger beneath my chin and tipped my face up to his. And what I saw there . . . was love.
He didn’t speak. Just dropped his lips to mine and kissed me with a passion and intensity I’d never experienced before. That kiss was more than just a thank you. It was a compilation of everything he’d just read, everything I’d written. An entire fictional lifetime of emotion pouring out of him and into me. That kiss was our wedding kiss, the kiss we shared when our firstborn arrived, the ones we’d give and receive every anniversary, birthday, holiday. It was each and every peck for no reason other than to say ‘I love you’ that we could have shared in a lifetime. It was our children’s graduation, their weddings, our grandchildren. It was our life together all rolled up and spilled out in one moment in time.
And Kiernan was right. It was perfect.
***
Dinner was set at the dining room table, which was almost full with my mother and me there. I sat between her and Kiernan, who hadn’t stopped touching me since we left his room—constantly holding my hand, or touching my back, or setting his hand on my knee like it was now beneath the table. Not that I was complaining.
We had to clear away some of the festive decorations to make room for the enormous turkey Mrs. Parks had made. The smell alone had my stomach doing cartwheels while we passed around bowls of mashed potatoes, stuffing, green bean casserole, and yams. I’d never seen so much food. My plate was about to overflow onto the nice red table cloth when Kiernan snagged two warm rolls from a basket and dropped one of those on there as well.
“Dig in everybody.” Mrs. Parks took the first bite and her sons didn’t need to be told twice.
Caulder shoved a heaping forkful of potatoes into his mouth while Kiernan took a bite out of his roll, practically shoving the entire thing in his mouth. I watched them go at it, an amused smile tickling my lips when I glanced to my left to find my mother doing the same thing. We looked at each other a moment and then both started laughing. My mother laughed. I wasn’t sure I’d ever heard her make that sound before and it was music to my ears.
“What’s so funny?” Caulder asked through a mouthful of food, only making us laugh harder.
Wiping hysterical tears from my face, I felt Kiernan squeeze my knee as I reached for my own silverware. The food was delicious, as I knew it would be. Mrs. Parks was a woman of many tal
ents. Mom ate more than I’d seen her eat in a long time and I even helped myself to some seconds. By the end of the meal, I was afraid I’d have to be rolled out the front door.
“Dinner was fantastic, Claire. Thank you.” Mom stood, collecting my plate along with her own. “Can I help you with cleanup?”
“That would be great. Thanks.”
I watched the two of them disappear into the kitchen, something heavy weighing on my heart.
“You okay?” Whatever it was, it must have been weighing on my face, as well, because Kiernan looked concerned.
“Yeah. I just . . . I don’t know . . . It’s just . . . Too good to be true, ya know? Like . . . Like . . .” I wasn’t even sure what I was trying to say.
But Caulder was. “You keep waiting for the other shoe to drop?”
I caught his eye and the understanding in them soothed my nerves. “Yeah. Like this can’t possibly last. This can’t possibly be my life and I should hang on to it for as long as I can.”
“Good things do happen, Jade.” Kiernan scooted his chair closer. “It’s okay to have hope.”
“But what if . . .”
“You dare to hope and it’s taken away?” By the way Caulder said it, I had no doubt he’d experienced exactly that.
I nodded, afraid my voice would betray me, give away exactly how much I wanted that hope and how much it frightened me to have.
Kiernan flicked an irritated glance between his brother and me. “You can’t be afraid to hope, Jade. Life without hope . . . That’s not life. Trust me.”
His declaration brought me shame. How could I be afraid to hope when Kiernan fought to hold onto exactly that in impossible circumstances every single day? “You’re right. I should be thankful for what I have and not waste it being afraid that I may lose it.”
“There’s my girl.” Kiernan’s approval warmed me almost as much as his fingers caressing my cheek.
I shut my eyes, savoring his touch, and when I opened them again, Caulder was gone and we were alone.
“How long do you think we have before your mom’s ready to go?”
I wanted to tell him we had all the time in the world, but we both knew that wasn’t true. “Now that dinner’s over, I’m sure she’ll want to get home. Probably as soon as cleanup’s done.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.” He sighed and grabbed ahold of my hand. “Let’s spend what’s left of our Christmas together somewhere better than the dining room.”
Pulling me behind him, he led us into the empty living room where we curled up on the couch together in front of the fire. Watching the flames jump and dance with Kiernan’s hand stroking my hair and his body curled around mine, I was certain I’d discovered paradise. But not the eternal kind.
Far too soon for my liking, my mother and his arrived to tell us it was time to go. Kiernan helped me pile all of my wonderful new things into a bag and carry it to the door. Decked out in my new coat, boots, and gloves, I took my old jacket from the closet and shoved it in the bag after extracting the hat my mom gave me from the pocket and pulling it on. She noticed. I knew she did.
It wasn’t until we got home and I was hanging my things in the closet that I noticed something else tucked into the pocket of my old jacket. A small white box. And I didn’t need a card to tell me who it was from when I opened it to find a necklace with an angel wing pendant inside.
Twenty Four
New Year’s Eve came with another invitation for my mother and me to join the Parks’ in celebrating. This one my mother declined. I’d never seen a ball-drop that my mother hadn’t spent partying it up at some bar somewhere, so I was hesitant to leave her on her own. Kiernan understood. He always understood. So instead of spending the holiday at home with his family, he spent it in my dank, cluttered living room. With me.
“Hey, beautiful.”
“Hey, yourself.” I waved him in and stood back, not really knowing what to do next. He’d been inside my apartment before, but usually only long enough for me to grab my coat and follow him back out. “Do you want a drink? Or something to eat. I think we have—”
“All I want is you.” Stepping closer, Kiernan threaded his fingers through the hair at the back of my head, tipping my face up in order to claim my lips.
His kiss was intoxicating. And distracting. Almost so much so that I forgot where we were. Almost. “Kiernan—” Breaking away, I pressed my still tingling lips together and shot an anxious glance toward the kitchen. “My mom’s here.”
His laughter told me he didn’t find that nearly as unsettling as I did. “Then I’d better go say hi.”
I followed him into the kitchen where my mother was pouring a glass of soda, and despite her okay that he be there, my heart kicked into overdrive. Old habits die hard, I suppose.
“Hello, Kiernan.” She screwed the lid back on the bottle, quick to retreat into the fridge. I wasn’t the only one feeling the weird of the whole situation. “I won’t be in your way. I was just getting something to drink and I’ll—”
“Ms. Carlson, this is your home. I’m the guest here. Why don’t you hang out with Jade and me, tonight?” Evidently, the only one not feeling the weird was Kiernan.
“Oh, um . . .” Her gaze flicked from Kiernan, to me, and back again. I knew that look. She was floundering for an excuse and I wasn’t about to help her find one. Celebrating the beginning of a New Year with the two most important people in my life sounded perfect to me. “Maybe . . . For a bit.”
“Great. I found some movies we could watch.” I pointed to a stack of DVDs I’d spent all morning hunting down. They were all old, and a couple may have been bootleg versions, but they were the best I could come up with.
“And I brought this.” Kiernan slipped off a backpack I hadn’t even noticed he was wearing and I made a mental note that I probably should have offered to take his coat or something. His coat followed and I tossed it on the back of the chair, while he unzipped the pack. Inside were several boxes of nukable snack foods and a couple of card games.
Kiernan kept the party flowing all evening, seemingly having no problem filling the dead air Mom and I tended to live in.
“Pass me a mozzarella stick?”
I reached across the table still loaded with greasy foods and groaned at the thought of putting another bite past my lips. If I moved too fast, I may actually have exploded. Kiernan did not suffer this problem. In fact, I had to seriously wonder if he was a bottomless pit as he popped the whole thing in his mouth at once and chewed behind his grin.
“Alright, it’s getting late. I think I’m going to head to bed.” Mom finished restacking the cards from our last round of rummy and set them aside.
“It’s not even ten, yet, Mom. The ball doesn’t drop for another two hours.”
“I’ve seen it,” she assured me. “In person once, actually.”
“Really?” I hadn’t known that simple fact about my own mother.
“When I was about your age.”
Kiernan choked down his chewy mouthful and leaned back on the tattered couch cushion. “What was that like?”
“Cold. And loud.” The all-too-rare smile on mom’s face made her look about ten years younger. “And completely worth it.”
“Who did you go with?” Mom was already standing, on her way to bed, but I wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass without learning as much as I could about her.
“Just some friends. Your fa—. . . Your father was there, actually. I’d had a crush on him for years. He was my best friend’s older brother, but they had some kind of falling out and I hadn’t seen him for months. He showed back up that night and we . . . Well, we . . .” Her cheeks turned red and I realized the cherry-faced routine was a family trait. “We finally got to know each other.”
I was really hoping that didn’t mean what I thought it meant. My birthday was in October. I ran some quick mental math and immediately cursed myself for my curiosity. There was an image I’d never be able to live through another New Year
’s without revisiting.
“Times Square was wild. A really unique experience. You should go one ye—” Mom stopped the moment she realized what she was saying, but it was too late to take the words back.
The reminder that Kiernan didn’t have ‘one indiscriminate year’ in the future to potentially spend in New York City on New Year’s Eve hit me like a baseball bat to the chest.
Kiernan must have felt it, too, but he didn’t let it ruin the night. Instead, he folded his hand around mine and gave a soft squeeze. “She will. Won’t you?”
He watched me and waited. It wasn’t some inane concept, he wanted an actual answer. An agreement that I would, in fact, go see the ball drop in person some time. Without him.
And I gave it. “Yeah. I will.”
After Mom went to bed, Kiernan and I curled up on the ratty couch with a bag of microwave popcorn and a rerun marathon of some comedy show from the seventies. I didn’t care what we watched. I didn’t care what we ate. I didn’t care where we were. Or who else was there. All I cared about was that when the countdown was done and that ball lit up Times Square, Kiernan Parks’ lips found mine, sealing a promise we knew we couldn’t keep.
***
“Do me a favor?” Kiernan leaned back on the sofa and massaged his temples.
“Sure.”
“Call Cal? Ask him to come pick me up. It’s getting late.”
The ball had dropped nearly an hour ago. We’d spent a lot of that time making out on the couch, but now Kiernan looked like he was ready to drop.
“I can do that. But don’t you have your phone?”
“Yeah. It’s in my coat pocket. You can use it.” His eyes slid shut as he nodded toward the chair where his coat was hanging.
“I have mine . . . Didn’t you drive yourself here?”
“Yeah.”
“Then, why—?”
“Because I asked you to!” Kiernan’s eyes snapped open and my heart stuttered.
I’m pretty sure it stopped beating entirely. Frozen solid by his icy stare. What was the matter with me? He was obviously exhausted. I’d kept him out much too late and now I had to turn the one favor he’d ever asked from me into twenty questions? I was such a—