“Can I play Super Mario Brothers?”
Savannah hesitated as she pictured the battery running down with all the electricity they’d been using, and if that happened the heat wouldn’t kick on. The sprinkling of freckles across her son’s cheeks and his large dark eyes pleading with her, tugged at her heart strings. She hated that they were living like vagabonds, especially with Christmas only a few weeks away. We should be at home decorating the tree instead of stuck in a snowstorm in a trailer on someone else’s property.
“Please, Mommy.”
Savannah drew Timmy to her and hugged him fiercely against her then kissed the top of his head. “I love you so much, sweetie.” Her throat tightened with emotions, and she blinked several times and swallowed.
Timmy tilted his head back and looked into her eyes. “So can I?”
The lump in her throat wouldn’t allow her to answer so she nodded at him.
“Yippee! Thanks, Mommy.” Timmy scrambled away from the table and dashed to the cupboard, flinging it open. With the play system secure in his hands, he shuffled over to the table and nestled back into the cushions, his gaze fixed on the screen.
An ache filled her heart as she watched his small fingers working the controls and the deep concentration etched on his face. How could Bret not love his son? She sighed and leaned back against the banquette. They’d been married for six years before she’d received the best news in her life—she was pregnant. She’d made a special dinner, lit all the candles in the dining and living rooms, and set a beautiful table, but when she’d delivered the news, Bret blew out the candles and threw the dishes on the marble floor along with their dinner. He wanted me to have an abortion. I never thought he’d ask—no, tell me—to do something like that. Of course she’d refused, and he wiped his hands of her and Timmy from that day forward. The wonderful sex life they shared stopped, and he barely touched her at all.
When Timmy was around two and three years old, he cried for his father’s attention, but Bret would turn a deaf ear and leave the room, or go out with his friends until Timmy stopped trying altogether.
“I’m inside the volcano!” Timmy’s excitement broke into her reminiscing.
“That’s great, sweetie. What are you trying to do?”
Shaking his head, Timmy glanced over at her for less than a second then looked back at the screen, his hands moving furiously. “I’ve got to get Princess Peach. She’s not safe yet.”
“I know you can do it.” As Savannah looked over her son’s shoulder as the cartoonish characters ran, jumped, and rolled over brightly colored graphics, her mind drifted back to Ryder. I wonder what he’s doing right now. Probably sitting in front of a cozy fire with his dog … and wife maybe? I’m sure he’s married. She guessed him to be around thirty-five years old, and she couldn’t imagine a man so ruggedly sexy as he was living all alone in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. What is he doing here? What’s his story? Ugh! Stop thinking about him. Savannah shook her head as if to scatter all thoughts, and slipped off the cushion.
“I’m going to call Grandma,” she said to Timmy, who didn’t answer. Smiling, she went into the kitchen and leaned against the counter. The space between her and Timmy was rather close, yet she hoped he wouldn’t hear too much of her conversation. Since he was so engaged in the game, she didn’t think he’d be paying any attention to her phone call.
Savannah dreaded making the call and answering a slew of questions. Inhaling deeply, she tapped in her parents’ phone number.
“Hello?” her mother said.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Savannah! Thank God.” Tears filled her mother’s voice. “Where are you? We’ve been worried sick about you.”
“I know and I’m sorry. I should’ve called sooner. Timmy and I are okay.”
“I’ve been calling you nonstop for days.”
“I left my phone behind. I’m calling you on a new one.”
“Bret’s worried sick about you and Timmy.”
Oh, yeah … right. He’s probably playing the victimized husband to the hilt.
“What happened? Bret told us he had no idea, but I know something must’ve happened for you to disappear like this.”
“Bret’s been cheating on me,” she said in a soft voice, her gaze glued on Timmy.
“All this drama for that?” Her mother laughed dryly. “I don’t mean it’s right, it’s just that all wealthy men do it. It’s pretty much a stereotype. You can’t break up a good marriage over that. Talk to him. Bret loves you very much.”
Savannah gripped the counter with her hand as she tried to keep her anger in check. “Bret only loves one person—himself. He’d have you believe he’s the doting father and loving husband, but he’s none of those things. He’s a selfish, self-centered, spoiled prick.”
Her mother sighed. “Most men are selfish. It takes a strong and savvy woman to keep a man still interested in her after years of marriage. You two are just going through a rough spot.”
“I’ve suspected he’s been cheating on me ever since I was pregnant with Timmy.” The minute I started to show, everything changed. It was like Bret couldn’t deal with my changing body because he held a picture-perfect image of the woman he was sexually attracted to. My trim waist expanding, wearing maternity clothes, and blossoming a bit wasn’t what he wanted.
“Many men can’t handle their wives being pregnant. It’s more common than you think.”
“Mom, he actually told me that I was rejecting him by wearing maternity clothes. Did Dad ever say that to you during your four pregnancies?”
“No,” her mother whispered.
Savannah wanted to tell her mother that shortly after that, Bret stopped touching her, claiming that he couldn’t get into it. When she’d suggested they didn’t have to have sex but could just cuddle or kiss or hold hands while watching a movie, he didn’t answer. After that, he started going out more and stayed out later.
“Are you still there?”
“Yes,” she answered softly.
“I don’t know why men cheat. I’ve been lucky that your father never did.”
“Dad is a man of integrity and honor. I can’t imagine him ever hurting you like that. Anyway, he loves you and you love him.”
“But Bret does love you. A lot of men need variety when it comes to … well, you know what I’m talking about. It doesn’t mean anything to them. It’s not the same for a man as it is for a woman. We’re more emotional and we get attached easily. Are you sure you’re not too focused on Timmy?”
Streaks of anger blazed through her. “What does that mean? Timmy’s my son.”
“I know, and I don’t mean to make you angry. Sometimes, we forget our husbands when we have children. I had to remind myself over and over to spend time with your father without you kids.”
“I admit that in the post-birth chaos of sleepless nights, sex became an expendable option for me, but afterward, I tried to make time for Bret and me. He complained that I still had some weight to lose and that I wasn’t as—” Savannah stopped before she said “tight.” It felt weird to talk to her mother about something like that even though Bret made it a big issue … and his reason to withhold sex or any intimacy with her. We lived like roommates, and I just accepted it because I threw myself into being a mother. My marriage was so fucked up.
“What were you going to say?” her mother asked, bringing Savannah out of her musings.
“Uh … attractive. Bret didn’t find me attractive anymore after Timmy was born.”
“That’s silly. You’re a beautiful woman. I’ve noticed a lot of men look at you when we go out.”
“Maybe, but the only man I’ve ever wanted to look at me was my husband, and he isn’t interested at all.”
“He doesn’t act like he’s not interested. He’s been worried sick over your disappearance, and he misses Timmy.”
I think I’m going to be sick. “I have to go, Mom. I’ll call again. Tell Dad I said hi. I just wanted you to know that w
e’re okay.”
“Wait. When are you coming back?”
“I’m not sure. I need time to think.”
“Please believe me when I tell you that Bret wants you back. Remember how hard life was for our family when you were young? It still is, except for the help you give us now. Your dad’s income as a butcher and mine as a school cook made for real tough times back in the day when all four of you were young, but I had your dad to lean on. If you don’t go back, you’ll be a single mother, and it won’t be easy.”
“I did just fine before I married Bret. I’d gladly forgo my Coach purses, Cartier jewelry, and Manolo Blahnik shoes to have a loving marriage. I’ll do fine, Mom.”
“I wouldn’t be too hasty. Just take a few days and think about it.”
“There’s nothing to think about.” She walked to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of orange juice and poured some in a glass. “I’m tired of living in a loveless marriage and watching him ignore his son. I’m done. It’s that simple.”
“Are you still pleasing him? It sounds like maybe he’s mad because you don’t want to have … you know … sex with him,” her mother said in a hushed voice.
Clenching her hand in a fist, she bit back the words she wanted to say. “It’s hard to have sex with a husband who doesn’t want it anymore … at least with me.” She heard her mother cluck her tongue.
“You two should go to counseling. Many marriages have survived an affair. Remember Linda and Sean Doyle? She found out he was having an affair, and it almost broke up their marriage. Linda told me that it was a long road and a lot of work, but eventually, she trusted Sean again. That was ten years ago, and Linda tells me their marriage is better than ever. I’m just saying for you to think good and hard about throwing twelve years away. There is life after an affair.”
“You sound like a promo for a Dr. Phil show.” She took another gulp of juice. “How’s Dad?”
“Worried sick. He’ll be glad when he hears that you and Timmy are okay. He’s still at work, on the late shift tonight. I honestly can’t believe the store decided to keep the butcher department open until ten o’clock. Now getting back to your situation—”
“I have to go. I promise to call soon.”
“Will you be back for Christmas?”
Christmas was just three weeks away, and Savannah hoped that they’d be in California or Oregon by then, but it would depend on the weather. One thing she was certain of was that she wouldn’t be home for the holidays.
“I don’t think so,” she whispered.
“Not home for Christmas? But we’ve always had Christmas Eve or Christmas day together.”
“I know, but this year is different. I really have to go, Mom. I’ll talk to you soon. Tell Dad I said hi. Love you.”
Savannah took a deep breath and pushed away from the counter, then she slipped the phone into her pocket and walked over to the banquette to sit down. Timmy’s attention was fixed on the game, and she leaned back on the cushion and blinked rapidly. Her mother didn’t know the whole story. No one did. She couldn’t tell anyone—not her sister, Jill, her cousin, Mari, or her best friend, Lacey. The scars of Bret’s emotional cruelty were hidden deep inside, clawing at her as she repeatedly fought to keep them buried. The love she’d once had for her husband died slowly with each reproach and rebuff of affection, and with every act of deliberate callousness until all that was left was coldness around her heart.
Thinking back on the day that she’d decided to leave, her skin crawled at the memory of one of the most humiliating moments of her life.
“I just got three more coins,” Timmy said, saving her from replaying that dreadful day in her mind.
“That’s great, sweetie. You have ten more minutes, then it’s bedtime. We’ll snuggle under the covers and continue with the story from last night.”
“The monster one, right?” Timmy asked, his eyes glued to the screen.
“That’s right.” Savannah moved the shade over a bit and looked out the window. The falling snow didn’t seem as frenzied as it had a few hours before, and she could actually see some of the trees in the distance. Maybe the storm is moving out and we can head out soon. The last thing I want is Ryder coming back and throwing us off his property. We’ll stay a few days in Pinewood Springs and then head out. God, I can’t wait to soak in a bathtub. She let go of the shade and closed her eyes. All I want is to start a new life with Timmy, but Corinne won’t let me do that. When her soon-to-be ex-mother-in-law had found out that Savannah had seen a divorce attorney, she made it perfectly clear that she would fight for custody of Timmy. Considering that the Carltons were one of the richest families in Massachusetts, Corinne had been appalled that Bret had chosen a woman from Quincy—a working-class neighborhood—to be his wife. Wayne, Bret’s father, hadn’t been too thrilled either, but he’d accepted Savannah and was decent to her. Corinne never did, and she took every opportunity to demean and belittle her. If Bret were around when she did it, he’d just give Savannah that what-can-I-do look and shrug his shoulders, but if Wayne were in earshot, he’d call Corinne on it every time and that would shut her vicious mouth.
There’s no damn way I’m letting Corinne dictate what’s best for Timmy. If she had it her way, he’d have a nanny and be enrolled in Grayson Boys Academy Boarding School. Her stomach twisted as she recalled the bitter argument she had with Corinne over sending Timmy to a boarding school when he turned nine. Hot streaks of anger shot through her as she remembered how unsupportive Bret had been, choosing to sit in the leather wingback chair and stare down at his phone. All he’d said after his mother left the room was that he’d gone to Grayson and it wasn’t bad at all. Savannah had wanted to throttle him.
Her heart pounded and every one of her muscles tensed up. I need to calm down. I’m getting all worked up again. I’ll never let Corinne have Timmy. We’ll flee to Australia and just disappear before I agree to that.
“Is it ten minutes yet, Mommy?” Timmy’s eyes were bleary.
“Yes. Put the Nintendo away and you can play it another time. It’s good to give your eyes a rest.”
Timmy shuffled over to the cupboard and put the game system back on one of the shelves. He went into the bathroom to get ready for bed as Savannah lowered the table and folded the cushions over to make the bed.
Soon, Timmy was tucked in under the covers, looking up at her as his eyes shone under the overhead reading light she’d switched on before turning out all other illumination. Running down the battery worried her, and she decided they’d have to start paying more attention to their electricity usage.
Savannah opened the picture book, and Timmy snuggled closer to her.
“The scratching grew louder as Kenny crept down the hall. He stopped in front of the coat closet,” she read aloud.
“I bet the monster’s in there,” Timmy said.
“Maybe,” she whispered. “His hand shook as he reached for the knob to open the closet door.” Timmy gasped and Savannah smiled, then she continued reading the bedtime story.
Chapter Four
Ryder put down the coping saw and grabbed his cell phone. As the jangling continued, he hit the button again before he realized it was the landline phone that interrupted his woodworking. He pushed up off the chair then brought the receiver to his ear.
“Hello?”
“Dude, I couldn’t get through on your cell. Is everything okay?” Hawk asked.
“Yeah. The reception’s been spotty since the snowstorm hit. I’m just finishing up a train set I’ve been working on. Does Braxton have one?”
“The question is, what the fuck doesn’t my son have? Between Cara and her parents, I’m gonna have to get a big-ass shed for his and Isa’s toys.”
“Oh … and you don’t spoil him?” Ryder cradled the phone in the crick of his neck. He went back over to the worktable and picked up the unfinished locomotive. Soon, the sound of sandpaper on wood filled the room.
“You fuckin’ got me. I guess I want my
kids to have everything I didn’t, which is a helluva lot.” Hawk chuckled. “Braxton would love one of those fire trucks you make. Remember, you made one for Harley a few months ago? Braxton’s still talking about it.”
“So is Banger.” The two men laughed. “I can make one for Braxton. I can bring it to the Toys for Tots event. I’ve made a shitload of toys for the kids. I’ll just include the train set. I’m almost done with it.”
Toys for Tots was the Insurgents’ annual Christmas charity to collect toys and distribute them to abused, sick, and underprivileged children. A lot of money was raised at the event, which took place a week before Christmas. Since Ryder had come back to Pinewood Springs three years before, he was active in the charity. It gave his woodworking hobby purpose, and he loved helping out the kids.
“That’d be great. Are you buried in pretty deep?”
“Yep. I doubt my four wheeler could get through the drifts. When I last looked out the window, the snow had died down some.”
“It’s that way in town too. The brothers at the clubhouse can’t get out, but they’re closer to you than to town. Throttle said that he’ll probably get the plows out tomorrow or the day after. He wants you to know he and Rags will come out your way and dig you out.”
“Appreciate it. I’ll have to give him a call. For now, I’m good. I bought some whiskey from Tom.”
Hawk’s hearty laugh rang through the phone line. “How’s that fuckin’ old moonshiner doing? I haven’t seen him around much.”
“He’s slowing down. Since Martha died, he’s not the same. He misses the hell outta her.”
“It’s gotta be tough—they were married for forty years. I can’t even imagine what it’s like for him. Hell, if Cara goes before me, I’ll be fucked up for sure.”
“Yeah … I feel for him, but his whiskey still has that kick that’ll land you on your ass if you don’t respect it.”
“Speaking from experience?” Hawk chuckled.
“Too much experience.” Ryder looked at Brutus, who sat at his feet looking up at him. “I gotta take Brutus out. Thanks for checking up on me, bro.”
Christmas Wish Page 3