The Winter Affair

by Alicia LaFontaine

  Or, she could just do some yoga in her bedroom.

  Taking her time leisurely sipping her coffee after her shower was out of the picture. She felt antsy and eager to get something done. It was time to get back to reality and back to her normal life.

  The shop was extra busy that week going into the next because Valentine’s Day was just around the corner at the end of the following week. The more well-prepared were already setting up drop-off appointments and taking the time to pick out specialized arrangements. But, there was still plenty more to do with ordering up for the “late-bloomers,” as Trish had always liked to call them. There would inevitably be a string of lovers whom had not thought ahead before the big day and would be running in to the shop with only one day or a few hours left to spare.

  Jo admitted her worry that all this Valentine’s Day prep would upset Trish. Hadn’t Trish even said so herself that this little tryst hadn’t been so little? Trish lovingly brushed off her friend’s concern. All of the work gave her a focus which was exactly what she needed to keep from falling into a funk. With so many customers and so much work to do, there really wasn’t time for her memories to catch up with her.

  Even her dad expressed his concern when Trish had lunch with him later in the week and she opened up a bit more about her time with Garrett. He suggested Trish spend Valentine’s Day with him and her mom, but Trish declined. It had always been a special day for her parents as it was the anniversary of their first date. She didn’t want to intrude. She did take the time to make an extra special arrangement for them, though, and personally delivered it that holiday morning.

  And then, there was suddenly not so much work to do. She found herself alone in her apartment on the evening of Valentine’s Day, having politely yet firmly declined Jo’s insistence on another girl’s night. She just wanted to be alone.

  All that seemed to be playing on TV was romantic comedies, so Trish allowed herself to get sucked in. She figured enough time had passed that she should be able to watch another couple without breaking down and crying.

  In fact, she realized as she ate her Chinese takeout—gratefully restored as her go-to, thanks to Jo—she hadn’t cried at all about Garrett. It seemed odd, considering how broken up she’d been. Perhaps it had been shock. Or, perhaps she had simply matured enough after so many sordid affairs that, now, tears were just useless. Crying wouldn’t fix anything.

  As one movie was ending, Trish was getting up to clean away the food when the screen went into a picture-and-picture mode with the credits rolling on one half of the screen while a short trailer for the next started playing.

  “No way,” she whispered and immediately sat back down.

  Not two minutes into the movie, stinging tears were burning Trish’s eyes before cascading down her face and onto her leggings.

  Serendipity.

  Unable to tear herself away, Trish watched the whole thing, sniffling through most of it. By the end, she’d convinced herself of one thing.

  She needed to get Garrett back.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Two days passed. Her fingers had typed and erased a countless barrage of messages. Each started out sounding right but, upon rereading, they each fell flat of doing justice to how she was truly feeling.

  She also couldn’t stay decided on the tone. Should she be nothing but apologetic? Should she try to be sweet, reminding him of the good moments they’d shared over the weekend?

  At one point, she’d even snapped a few racy, half-nude pictures of herself and contemplated just sending them in place of any words. Surely, that would get a response.

  Her fingers had dialed his number a hundred times and hovered over the call button, but she’d never been able to press it. Even if she didn’t wait for him to pick up, he’d know she’d tried to call. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to accept his call if he tried to call back. Moreover, she wasn’t ready to accept it if he didn’t.

  The night she posed for the sexy pictures but couldn’t send them, she finally broke down and cried again. How pathetically desperate it would be to send those pictures, she realized. She’d never taken such strides with a boyfriend before. And, she realized with greater sadness, she hadn’t thought she’d ever need to with Garrett.

  In utter defeat, she quickly peeled off the negligee and slipped on some sweat pants and an old tank top. She curled up, half under her comforter and grabbed her phone.

  Maybe she should just call him, she thought again. At least, it would end her pain. If he picked up, he’d tell her off and then she could move on. And, if he didn’t, well, then that would say something even stronger.

  She still couldn’t bring herself to push the button even as her finger hovered so close to it for several minutes. She was frozen in fear and sorrow. The icy, swirling winter storm of that weekend had isolated them from the world for a moment in time.

  She passed out still holding her phone as dreams of swirling snow and someone calling her name, lost in a white void, overtook her.

  21

  “T

  rish?” The insistence of someone calling her name finally broke through her dream state and her eyes slowly opened.

  It was Garrett.

  “Oh my god,” was all she could squeak out in her surprise.

  “Good,” he sounded genuinely relieved. “You face-timed me and when I picked up, you were passed out. I was worried.”

  Trish very nearly smacked her head for her idiocy but was able to refrain. Heaven only knew what he’d been thinking to pick up the call to find her unresponsive. Really smooth, Trish, she chastised herself.

  “I—I—” she stuttered but couldn’t think of anything to say to explain herself. The only thing that would’ve been more embarrassing would’ve been if she would’ve had the song “Without You” by Mariah Carey playing in the background when he picked up. She thanked the god of small miracles the track had ended before she’d fallen asleep. Of that much she was certain…mostly.

  She prayed to that same god that, if it had been still playing, he would never speak a word of it to her and save her that tiny bit of dignity.

  He spoke again before she had to. “I’m actually glad you called.”

  She did her best to school her features. He couldn’t possibly be getting at what she thought.

  She pushed herself up and got seated with her back to the headboard on the bed. “Well, I guess there’s no denying I had been thinking about calling you. Now that we’re on the phone, though, I suddenly don’t know what to say. Garrett, you have to believe me when I say that guy really meant nothing to me.”

  “I know,” he replied. She could see him sitting up in a plush, leather chair. Was he still at work?

  Her first response would’ve been to ask why he’d taken off in a huff that day, but she didn’t want to turn this into an argument. In all her unsuccessful relationships, Trish had learned a thing or two. One of the most important was not only to pick your battles but to choose your words carefully. Just because they’re the words which came to mind first—and, therefore, must speak your truth best, right?—that doesn’t mean your immediate response (in the moment, full of passion) is going to be taken the right way.

  “So, what can I say to get you to understand my side of this?” she asked instead. No better way than to be direct, she figured.

  “Well, had his wife not found out about you two, you would’ve spent the weekend with that…”

  “Doofus? Idiot? Shitsmear? Please, stop me when I’ve found the word you’re looking for.” She cracked the tiniest smile and hoped.

  He actually laughed out loud. It filled her heart with a joy for which she was desperately yearning. Then, a second later, fear gripped her. She didn’t want this all taken away from her…again.

  “Look, Garrett, I know how that looks. But, honestly, that crazy woman catching us was the best thing in the world that could’ve happened that day because it led to the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me.” She couldn’t help the
tears which formed in her eyes by the end of her plea.

  He was silent far longer than she liked. She could see the wall behind him shift as he slowly swiveled in his chair. He was staring off out into the room he was in, so she was able to take a more lingering look at him. It made her heart ache to study his symmetrical features, his deep brown eyes, his unruly hair. Watching the muscles in the back of his jaw clench was nearly too much for her to bear.

  She couldn’t lose him again.

  “Garrett, I—”

  “Trish, I don’t want to lose you again.”

  He’d cut her off and left her speechless. That was exactly what she was going to say to him.

  “Me neither,” she finally got her lips to say.

  He rubbed at the back of his neck and sighed. “I know that I should probably stay mad in a situation like this, but…well, honestly, I don’t give a fuck. I want you so bad, I don’t care if I get hurt. It’s worth it.”

  She could hardly keep the pout from forming on her lips. “You won’t get hurt, Garrett.”

  He looked down into his lap and then up at the screen through his eyelashes, making his eyes even darker. It was almost as if he was sharing a secret. “Whether I get hurt isn’t really up to you. It’s dependent on how much I love you. And, I do. So fucking much, I couldn’t stand this time not talking to you. It hurts worse to push you away than it ever could to love you.”

  “Oh,” she gasped. It wasn’t movie-style romantic, but his words were utterly honest. She bit her lip, feeling a bit frustrated. “I wanted to say the same thing but you beat me to it.”

  He shrugged. “I’d still like to hear it.” He smiled and she melted.

  “I wish you were here.”

  “Me too. You have no idea.”

  “Well, it’s only…” she turned over to look at the clock on her nightstand, “jeez! Three a.m.!”

  “How about this,” he broke through her disheartened thoughts. “Friday is only two days away. How about I come over then and spend the weekend. I think the weather might even call for snow.” His devilish smirk sparked a fire within her belly which she wanted quenched now. But, Friday was better than the prospect of never again.

  “Deal. Now, don’t forget to pack an overnight bag if we’re going to be having a sleepover,” she joked.

  He licked his lips. “I don’t think I’m going to need much for clothes, Mortrisha.”

  She was sure her face registered the surprise and arousal which his words had inflamed, but she didn’t care. She was still in a bit of shock this was all happening when earlier that evening she’d felt so broken and alone.

  “I can’t wait, Garrez.”

  “Talk to you later, babe.”

  “Goodnight.”

  Trish sighed heavily as she hit the button to end the call but was surprised what she saw when she did.

  The call had been over ten minutes long?

  They hadn’t, actually, talked that long. So that meant…

  For the first night since their weekend together, Trish fell asleep that night with a smile on her face.

  22

  Trish was well above cloud nine the following morning. Jo picked up on it immediately.

  “Looks like someone had a good night last night,” Jo mentioned as Trish walked into the shop.

  “I did,” Trish replied simply, biting her lower lip at the memory.

  “Okay,” Jo put down the sheers she’d been holding and crossed her arms over her chest, leveling a coy smirk at her boss, “what’s his name this time?”

  “What? What’s that supposed to mean.”

  Jo only piqued an eyebrow.

  “Oh, come on. Why does me being happy have to mean I slept with someone. Maybe I’m happy for a different reason.”

  Jo dropped her hands to her hips. “Yeah, but you usually only get that happy of a look on your face when you’ve taken a new boytoy out for a spin.”

  Trish threw her friend a hurt expression. “Well, it’s not some new boytoy. I talked to Garrett last night.”

  Trish could’ve almost laughed at the look of surprise on Jo’s face but she merely intensified the mock-hurt. “Why is that so shocking?”

  “Because, girl, I’ve known you to get back on the horse right away but never the same horse.”

  Trish playfully swung her purse at Jo and walked past her towards her office in the back.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  The day was as busy as any other. Being the only florist in town besides the paltry section at the local megastore, Trish’s store did a steady business and had some very regular customers.

  She was leaning against the customer side of the counter, chatting with an elderly woman, Mrs. Thompkins, while Jo finished wrapping her arrangement to brave the cold air outside.

  Trish was just in the middle of briefly explaining to Mrs. Thompkins her coincidental reconnecting with her high school boyfriend—at Jo’s incessant prodding—when the old-fashioned bell above the door jingled as the door was opened.

  “Anyways, he’s coming here this weekend so we can spend some time together and hopefully see where this is going,” Trish hurried to finish and turn to greet the new customer.

  “You talking about anyone I know?” a familiar voice called from the doorway.

  “Oh my gosh!” Trish couldn’t hide her excitement. “What are you doing here?” Without hesitation, she turned and rushed straight into Garrett’s open arms.

  “Is it too cheesy to say I couldn’t wait even one more day to see you?” he answered and received an “Aww” from the ladies at the counter.

  Trish cleared her throat. She turned to present Garrett to the women. “This is--”

  “Garrett, so nice to meet you,” Jo cut in. Trish just rolled her eyes.

  Introductions were made around and then Mrs. Thompkins left, but not without wishing the pair good luck in their life together. Trish didn’t have the heart to correct her. She couldn’t quite look at Garrett just then, either.

  Trish thanked her lucky stars Jo was never one to leave much of a silence. “Before you even start, just go.”

  “What?” Trish asked.

  “I know you want to get out of here, but you’re going to bring up all these little things you should probably get done first. You know I can handle everything the rest of the day and tomorrow.” Jo continued to talk as she walked the short distance back into the office. She came back out with Trish’s coat and purse. “And, you also know I’d shoo you out of here, eventually, so don’t even say a word, missy. Now, get!”

  This garnered a soft chuckle from Garrett. “Hey,” Trish smiled as she grabbed her purse, “just who’s the boss around here, anyways?”

  Garrett grabbed her coat before she could and helped her into it. “I think you should do as the boss says, missy.”

  Trish glanced at both in turn. “You’ve known each other three minutes and already you’re ganging up on me?”

  They all laughed. Jo came out from behind the counter and began physically shooing them towards the door.

  “Okay, okay. See you Monday, then, I guess.”

  “You got that right,” Jo smiled and turned back into the shop.

  Garrett laughed again. “She’s quite the character. You weren’t kidding about her.”

  “Yeah, she—” Garrett cut her off by claiming her mouth with his. She readily melted into his arms where they stood on the sidewalk outside her shop. The air whipping past them was freezing, but Trish could have stayed like that all day.

  When she finally did break away, she asked, “So, what’s on the agenda, then?”

  “Well,” he started, guiding her to her car, “I figured we could start tonight by me making you dinner.”

  “You cook?”

  He bobbed his head back and forth. “I dabble.”

  “Ooh, a dabbled meal. I’m excited for it!”

  He laughed. “And, I’ll do all the dishes.”

  Trish clapped as she opened her car door. “Ooh, now I’m
really excited for this!”

  23

  Three hours later and, to her surprise, Trish was standing in the kitchen with a glass of wine, watching as her father and Garrett finished up the last few details of the meal.

  Trish’s mother turned to her when the men began taking dishes into Trish’s separate dining room. “You know, I would’ve thought the four of us would’ve been having a lot more nights like this.”

  Trish did her best not to shake her head. Her parents had surprised the pair an hour earlier by showing up at her door unexpectedly with their own bags full of groceries. In some ways, it had made Trish feel like a helpless college student, needing her parents to supply her with groceries and check to see if she was okay on her own.

  Truthfully, they were checking on her, but only because she’d been so despondent since her breakup with Garrett a few weeks earlier. She was, in fact, perfectly capable of stocking her own fridge and pantry, they told her. They’d only wanted to surprise her with a home-cooked meal.

  Trish hadn’t had a chance since the previous evening to fill her parents in on her reconciliation with Garrett. Granted, she thought she’d have another day before he showed up. Still, it seemed a theme of her crazily coincidental life lately that her parents would show up to surprise her in much the same way Garrett had and a romantic dinner for two would turn into a double date, of sorts. Trish couldn’t bring herself to think of it as a family meal, though that had a nice ring to it.

  Her mother refilled their wine glasses. “Now, I’m sure you know, your father told me everything about that weekend you spent with Garrett recently.”

  “Oh, Mom!” Trish groaned and face-palmed. It wasn’t as if she’d told her father all the intimate details of her cozy weekend snowed in with Garrett, but something about her parents talking so freely about her love life still made her feel like a budding teenager with her first crush. Perhaps, in this case, it was so because Garrett had, in fact, been her first crush.

  Her mother furthered that feeling by continuing, “Oh, hun, come on, now. We’re all adults here. If you knew about some of the weekends your father and I--”