by Jacki Renée
A crew arrived at sunrise to start the cleanup and demolition of the gazebo. Bryan’s been outside with them.
Around seven thirty, Kourtney and Emma run back and forth between the two rooms. I shower and get dressed and go to the family room.
My mind and body are tired, but I want to assure the girls that everything is okay, even if I don’t feel it.
We go through our tickle routine first.
“You guys want to talk about last night?” I ask.
“Nope. Daddy talked to us when he made breakfast,” Emma says.
“What did he tell you?”
Kourtney presses the button on the remote to pause the television. “He said he didn’t invite that lady to the party and asked her to leave.”
“She thought you could make him talk to her,” Emma adds.
“I have errands to run. Do you want to come with me?”
“Bryan’s taking us ice skating.”
“Will you be okay without me?”
Kourtney frowns. “Yes. Mom.”
“Okay, see you later.” I kiss the girls and leave before I run into Bryan.
The boxing gym is my first stop. It’s not crowded this morning. I usually work out in the evenings and Kourtney sits in the observation room with my laptop.
Today, I visualize the punching bag is Bryan and do my best to beat the crap out of him.
“You lose form and technique when you’re angry,” Willis says from behind me.
I grab the bag to stop it from swinging back on me and turn around.
“Did he send out a search party?”
Willis laughs. “No, I work out here too.”
I turn back to the bag, get into my stance, and aim for imaginary Bryan’s kidneys. “I’ve never seen you here.” I grunt with each hard hit.
“I work out in the mornings.” Willis steps behind the bag and holds it steady while I pulverize it with more combinations. “Stay focused, even though you’re angry. And pull your left elbow in more. Here, let me show you.”
We trade places. Willis takes his stance and starts by showing me how my elbow looks then how it should look. He points out the difference in the power behind each punch.
I watch as he goes through more complex combinations. Willis is good. He hits like a professional.
We trade places again. “Chin down, elbows in, shift your weight and follow through,” he coaches.
Willis and I move around the gym, working out and talking boxing. In the ring, I surprise him with how well I execute kickboxing techniques.
I leave him at the speed bag and head to the locker room to shower and change. There’s last minute Christmas shopping I need to do.
For thirty minutes I circle the parking lot at the mall. I use the time to call an old college classmate and cash in a favor.
A black SUV backs out of a stall near the entrance.
It doesn’t take long to pick up the gifts I came for, so I sit in the food court and nurse a grilled chicken salad and a cup of hot chocolate until thoughts of Bryan bring tears to my eyes. I need another distraction before I turn into a blubbering mess.
With shopping bags in hand, I walk over to the movie theater and buy a ticket for a holiday comedy. Laughter and buttery popcorn are what I need right now.
I leave after the end credits.
As I drive in the direction of Bryan’s house, I admire the festive holiday decorations on both sides of the road. Kourtney and I used to go all out. The lawn full of ornaments. Every room in the house filled with Christmas... The high-beams of a car from oncoming traffic veer into my lane. I’m blinded. I turn the wheel to the right to get out of its path. Blinking to regain sight, I press hard on the brakes. A horn blows. My peripheral vision catches a dark shadow passing my window. Tires squeal on asphalt. Constant honk of a horn. A black SUV blocks the blinding lights from crashing into me. The car with high-beams veers back into its lane, metal scraping metal.
I take my hand off the horn, too shaken to do anything else.
“Are you okay, ma’am?” A young man knocks on my window.
I nod without acknowledging him.
The engine of the truck in front of me thunders as it makes a U-turn. It speeds off in the direction of the high-beams.
Somehow, my phone is in my trembling hand. My finger hovers over Bryan’s number. I don’t remember picking it up. I take deep breaths setting the phone back in the holder.
Decorations forgotten, I pull back onto the road in defensive driving mode until I turn off in front of Bryan’s home.
Marie opens the front door. She tells me the girls are upstairs in bed and Bryan just left. Light spills into the darkened hallway from the door of his home office.
I walk upstairs, put the bags away, and go check on the girls.
I knock on Emma’s door first. Kourtney never falls asleep right away.
“Can we read for a little while?” Emma asks.
“Sure. What would you like to read?”
She pulls a book from under her pillow. On the cover are pictures of horses and ponies. A pony was number two on their joint Christmas list.
I kick off my slippers and climb in next to her.
She opens the book. We cuddle as she reads out loud.
I help her sound out unfamiliar words and tell her the meaning so she will remember them.
Halfway into the second chapter, Emma’s eyes close at the end of a sentence. I mark the page before setting the book on the nightstand.
My attention gets captured by a drawing in her sketchbook. I pick it up. Emma’s working on a picture of the four of us out by the pond. For an eight-year-old, she’s a good artist. I hope Bryan nurtures her talent.
She yawns. “I love you. I want you and Kourty to stay forever.”
“I love you too, sweetie.”
It’s true. I love this little girl like she’s my own. I climb out of her bed and tuck her in, kissing her forehead.
Across the hall I knock on Kourtney’s door. As expected, she’s awake, and on my laptop.
“I know I’m supposed to ask, but you weren’t here and I wanted to look at pictures of Saudi Arabia.” She closes the website.
I place the laptop on the nightstand. “It’s okay. I know you don’t abuse your privileges.”
“Why was your laptop in the guest room?”
“I’ll sleep in there until we leave.”
“Because you and Bryan had a fight?”
My child is observant and quick.
“What did you hear?”
“I heard Mr. Vin say bad words, then Mr. Willis asked us to help him find his gloves by the pond. I think he just wanted to get us out of the house.”
“Bryan and I need a timeout.”
“Boyfriends and girlfriends have time out?”
“Bryan isn’t my boyfriend.”
“He kisses you on your lips. All the time.”
Her dramatics make me laugh.
“Why isn’t he your boyfriend?”
“Get some sleep. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
“Lie down with me?”
“Sure, baby, for as long as you want.”
I climb in and we snuggle each other.
“Why don’t you answer my questions about Bryan?”
“I know you’re hoping Bryan and I end up together, but it’s not going to happen, Kourt.”
“Why not? I like Bryan and I know you do too. You kept looking at him at the parent meeting. You smile big when he’s around. Except for last night.” She yawns. “Emmy and I want to be sisters.”
“You are sisters.” Tears well up in my eyes. “Best friends are like sisters.”
“We want to be real sisters.” She yawns again. “Please don’t be mad at him anymore.” She snuggles closer. “When you smile a lot, I know you’re happy.”
I turn off the lamp so she can’t see the tears fall from my eyes.
***
I wake the girls before sunrise. Today we’re going to a winter a
musement park a few hours from Boulder. It’s a place marked off on Kourtney’s list.
I’ve learned that Colorado weather is unpredictable. I’m bringing along extra clothes.
Marie packs a sack lunch. She’s going with us.
I go outside to load up my truck. It’s been moved into the garage. I open the hatch and see an emergency roadside kit and a note from Bryan that says he hopes we have fun. His Silverado is gone.
“Bryan filled your tank, checked the tires, brakes, and fluid levels.” Willis walks into the garage. “There’s a backup cell phone in the glove compartment too.”
The girls, Marie, and I head out. Less than an hour into the drive, Kourtney and Emma fall asleep and Marie turns down the radio.
“Bryan cares about you.”
“I got the impression you didn’t approve of our relationship.”
“In all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen Bryan with a woman. I mean I know he’s been with women, but you get it, don’t you?”
I nod.
“This is so out of character for him. He always seemed to be missing someone. I’ve suspected it was Emma’s mom. He’s never talked about her. I don’t even know her name. There are no pictures of her around the house. And you still wear your wedding ring even though your husband has been dead for years. It worried me that neither one of you were ready for a relationship. I care about you guys. I don’t want to see either one get hurt.”
“Thank you, Marie.”
“Willis told me to mind my own business and warned me not to meddle. But I do want to tell you one thing my mom told me before I married Willis. And after that, I will let you two figure things out.”
I quickly glance at her.
“A man who truly loves a woman will go to the extreme to protect her. The methods may not always be to our liking, but in the end, it’s the motive behind his actions that makes us forgive them. The way Bryan tore out of that party when the girls told him about that woman showed how much he cares for you.”
My heart flutters.
“How did you meet Willis?”
“We met in a hospital.”
I raise an eyebrow at her, then turn my focus back to the road.
“You learned that from Bryan,” she laughs. “Willis was at a bar in New Orleans with his squad. I was there with my fiancé, Pierre.” She sighs. “Pierre and I were arguing. I didn’t know it, but Willis was paying attention to us. I remember telling Pierre I wouldn’t marry him and next I woke up in a hospital room. Willis sitting next to my bed, holding my hand. He introduced himself.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know.”
“What happened to Pierre?”
“I never saw him again. Willis and I married two months later. I was eighteen. He was twenty-three.”
“That fast?”
She laughs. “Young people nowadays don’t grow up with the values we did in my day. And I grew up in the Deep South.”
“Your Southern drawl is cute. It’s more pronounced when you’re mad.”
She agrees.
“Do you guys have children and grandchildren?”
“Our daughter died several years ago. She was our only child.”
I take a second to look at her. Marie’s eyes become misty and I regret my question.
“I’m so sorry for asking such a painful question.” I reach over and pat her hands folded in her lap. “How long have you worked for Bryan?”
“Emma was a year old when he hired me to babysit. Me and Willis didn’t become full time until after the house was finished.”
Marie and I spend the rest of the drive getting to know each other. She asks me about Kourtney’s father. I tell her about my relationship with James.
***
The next morning back at Bryan’s house, I leave notes on Kourtney’s and Emma’s pillows and go downstairs to leave one in the kitchen for Marie. I’m going to the apartment to wait for a delivery.
Marie startles me. “Would you like something special for breakfast? The girls asked me to make snowman-shaped pancakes.”
“No, thank you. I was about to leave you this note.” I wave the folded piece of paper in my hand. “I’ll be back before you’re off the clock this afternoon.”
Turning to leave, I bump into Bryan and stumble back. He grabs my waist to steady me. He’s dressed in a business suit.
“I have a meeting. I’ll be back by ten,” he says.
I step around him and leave him watching me fast walk down the hallway.
Every bump and creak in the apartment makes me jump. I left a message for the apartment manager and the owner about installing a security system before we come back next week. Sleeping with a baseball bat in the bed with me is an option too. I look around the apartment, noting spots where I can stash other baseball bats. James told me I was being foolish when I insisted he install extra door locks and window locks that rainy night I fled my apartment building and moved in with him. He promised to keep me safe, but that doesn’t mean I felt safe. There’s a difference. Hopefully I can put up a brave front so Kourtney doesn’t notice my apprehension. Maybe I should look for an apartment in a gated community. Knowing the grounds are patrolled would give me a little peace.
Wrapping Christmas gifts is how I start my morning. My cell phone is a hotline. I let Bryan’s calls go to voicemail and answer the others. I know we need to talk. I’m just not ready.
Midmorning, there’s a knock on the door. I tiptoe over and peek through the peephole. It’s the express delivery company with the package I’ve been waiting for.
A part of me expects Bryan to show up at my door.
I call Marie to check up on Kourtney and Emma. She tells me Bryan took them to see a movie. I read off a list of ingredients needed to bake cookies this evening. She puts me on hold to check the pantry.
For the rest of the time at the apartment, I concentrate on typing notes in my patients’ files and check work emails, replying to some and flagging others. Part of the agreement for me to take this time off, I have to keep in touch with patients who need counseling during the holidays.
I let my boss know that I will see a few patients on January 2nd and email Vanessa the list of appointments to schedule, then shut down my laptop.
It takes several trips to load the gifts in my truck and lock up the apartment.
On the way to the grocery store, a catchy song plays on the radio and I turn up the volume. The lyrics ignite a yearning in my heart and the emotion in the singer’s voice speaks to my soul. I know what it’s like to want to give yourself to someone, but to be uncertain if they will take care of your heart. It takes ultimate trust to drop my guard and make myself vulnerable to anyone. I wanted that with Bryan. I wholeheartedly gave him something James never had. The most valued piece of me. We have history. I didn’t realize how lonely I’d been until we moved here. My world has been shaken off its axis.
I find a spot at the far end of the lot and listen to the rest of the song. A black SUV pulls in next to me. Turning the car off, I press the button on the key fob to arm my truck and go inside humming the chorus of the song. I want what the singer’s singing about. Love’s tenderness and to know love’s devotion.
There are no shopping carts or hand baskets available. My reusable bag will have to do. Lucky for me, everything I need is on one aisle.
I squeeze past impatient shoppers to get to aisle seven, baking supplies. As I turn the corner, I see Max picking up a box of salt substitute off the shelf.
“Last minute grocery shopping too?” I ask.
“Tom’s family doesn’t believe in complying with a simple respondez, s'il vous plaît. I have five extra people coming for dinner tomorrow. And get this”—he frowns with fake despair—“they each have special dietary needs. What are you doing here?”
“I’m picking up a few things. Baking Christmas cookies on Christmas Eve is a tradition for Kourtney and me.”
“Sweetie, what’s going on with you and Mr
. Hawk?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Aw, Danikins. Please tell Maxie what’s going on. Do I have to cut him for bringing tears to those brown eyes?” He rubs my cheek. “I watched that man watching you at the party. Every opportunity he had to interact with you, no matter how small, he lit up brighter than a fairy, and you dimmed his light each time you walked away. You’re both miserable. Use your training as a psychologist. View the issues a different way.” He pulls me into his arms. “Heads up. Horny Toad at six o’clock,” he whispers.
Stepping out of his embrace, I take a peek.
“What happened to her?”
“Collagen and Botox withdrawals.” He smiles “And those roots are as dark as my Uggs.”
Max blows a kiss and waves. “Happy Hol-Hoe-Days.”
Holly Valentine offers a weak smile before pulling the hood of her sweatshirt over her head.
Something’s not right. It surprises me when she walks right by us. Holly’s never missed an opportunity to drop an innuendo about Bryan. Perhaps when she’s not with Madelyn she’s not as brave.
“I’m horrible.” Max snickers.
“I wonder what’s wrong.”
She turns left at the end of the aisle.
He smacks his lips. “I told you she’s going through withdrawals.”
“I’m serious, Max.”
Max does his famous dip and toss of his nonexistent long hair. “Withdrawals ain’t no day at the spa.”
“Where’s your holiday spirit?”
“Take a look through your own camera lens, Danikins. Where’s your holiday spirit for Bryan?”
“I better get back. Don’t forget we promised to take the girls to the spa.” I pick up a box of organic food coloring.
Max smirks. “I wouldn’t dream of breaking a promise. Call me and we’ll plan the details.” He leans in and air kisses my cheeks. “Merry Christmas, Danikins.”
“Merry Christmas, Maxie.”
I pick up the rest of the items I came for and weave my way to the front of the store.
In the express checkout line, I spot Holly two lines down, wiping her eyes.
***
The girls burst through the backdoor laughing and brushing snow off their jackets. A few seconds later, Bryan walks through covered in remnants of snow.