by Jean Oram
“Are you hungry?”
Max shook his head.
“You’re going to need to walk.” I tried to set him down, but he refused to unhook his legs from around my hips.
My mother-in-law had found her suitcase and was already trucking ahead, coming to a halt at the exit. With Max still in my arms, I walked beside Calvin, who had plucked up the rest of the bags.
“Things went okay?” I tipped my head toward his mom.
Calvin’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t offer anything other than, “Things went fine.”
He was still such a poor liar. He’d obviously done or said something his mother disagreed with. The good news for him was that she always forgave him almost immediately and would soon return to doting on him.
“Any word on a piano?” I asked Calvin as we walked across the almost empty corridor toward the doors.
“Joy, I’m tired.”
“I know. It’s just that it’s basically already Christmas Eve, and for the extravaganza I—“
“It’s Christmas. How will I get a piano in time?”
“I just thought maybe you’d had a line on something even though you were away.”
“I texted you before I left.”
“You did. I was just checking, in case.” I really hoped Steve had managed to replace the dead piano key, and that he didn’t hold a grudge that would cause him to abandon the project because we’d fought.
“Did they make you a job offer?” I asked, awkwardly shifting Max’s weight.
“Mom, we’re out this way,” Calvin said.
“Actually, I parked this way,” I said, nodding in a different direction. “Max? Can you walk? It’s slippery out and I don’t want to fall.”
He shook his head in the crook of my neck.
“Please.” I lowered my arms, causing him to slide down to his feet.
If this was what it was going to be like after each trip to France, the situation would be torture for all of us.
Once on the highway, I asked my passengers how Disneyland Paris had been, assuming Calvin’s lack of reply about the job meant he didn’t know and didn’t want to speculate.
“It was fine,” Calvin answered. I could hear his mother snoring in the backseat already, Max likely asleep as well, since he didn’t pipe up.
“I registered for two online classes,” I said. “They start the first week in January.”
Calvin sighed. “Joy, we were going to discuss this once I was home.”
“Then now’s the time, I guess. I might need to switch the odd day with you when it comes time to study for exams.”
“Before you registered,” he said, his tone tight.
“I couldn’t wait.”
“Why? Why all of this sudden need? It’s hardly the moment to overextend yourself financially or in regards to your time. How are we going to swing you going back to school in the city, when we’re raising a boy in two separate households hours away from there?”
“There is no ‘we’,” I snapped. “And frankly, I’m not up to hearing about how my life is going to inconvenience yours. You should be happy I’m seeking this out. It’ll give us both more freedom, independence, and it will be better for Max in the long run.”
We drove the rest of the way to Christmas Mountain in silence.
I dropped off Calvin’s mom first, then pulled up outside Calvin’s place. When I began unloading Max, who was now bounding with energy, Calvin said, “I thought he could stay with you tonight.”
It was around two in the morning and Max’s body was geared up like it was 10:00 a.m.—which it was in Paris. That meant he was ready to go at his day full-throttle, and I’d yet to fall asleep.
“Maybe the two of you should stay here, take a nap this afternoon, then get up for a few hours.”
I coaxed Max out of the car and put his hand in Calvin’s. “You need to get yourselves back on local time.” I smiled as Max threw himself down in the snow and made a snow angel.
“I can see stars!” he said with glee. “I’m up past my bedtime!”
“What?” Calvin asked me, looking dazed. “But I really need some rest.”
“I know. So does Max. So do I.” I backed away, my heart breaking at possibly giving up Max on what should be my day with him. But I could see it in my mind as clearly as if it was happening. Calvin would go take care of himself, and I’d be up all night with a boy whose body thought it was morning. I’d exhaust myself before Christmas and the extravaganza, moving through the two occasions like a zombie so Calvin could recover faster, when it had been his choice to put himself through this in the first place. Then he’d boast about how it was nothing, taking our boy back and forth through several time zones.
I crouched down to where Max was still in the snow. “I love you, Max. I’m going to go home and sleep, since it’s my bedtime. You can come over to our house in the morning, okay?”
Max leaped into my arms, giving me a big hug and a kiss. “I love you, Mom.”
“Love you, too. See you guys tomorrow.”
“Joy!” Calvin gaped at me as I backed away.
I hurried to my car before I changed my mind, my legs trembling from the fact that I’d finally stood up for myself, and for what I wanted. What I needed.
Chapter 9
I was waiting off to the side of the stage area in the community center with my old friends Ash, Morgan, Emma, Carol, Faith and Lexi, ready to perform our song. We were up next and I felt jittery. Getting up onstage was always the hardest part. But once my fingers hit the keys everything else always fell away. I hoped it would stay true for me again tonight in the packed building.
As the group ahead of us bowed and accepted their applause I found Max in the crowd. I wiggled my fingers at him, and he smiled and waved back with an enthusiasm that made me feel special. He’d had quite a few naps since returning, and was getting over his jet lag. He was mostly back to his regular self, swinging his legs in the chair beside his dad. Calvin saw me and gave a smile and nod, the night’s program curled in his hands. Next year or the year after would the empty seat beside him that was reserved for me be filled by someone new? Or would he be off in France, despite the rumors I’d heard from Judith while walking Obi yesterday evening, about Calvin not being impressed with the agency that was currently recruiting him?
Carol nudged me. It was time to go onstage, our tribute to Melody King having been announced. My heart rate increased as I made my way to the piano. I pulled in a breath or two as I set out my music. I had the song memorized, and the sheets of music were more of a security blanket in case I lost my place or mentally blanked out.
The keys before me were cleaner than they’d been a few days ago, and I stroked one of them as I inhaled the instrument’s old-wood-and-polish smell. It reminded me of my piano at home, the same brand of polish having been rubbed into its old, lacquered cabinet. Even the brass pedals had been polished, giving them a glorious shine. Someone had given this upright piano some love, and I knew it hadn’t been the caretaker, Michelle. Before I realized it, I was looking over my shoulder, seeking out a familiar set of eyes.
I found them in the same place I had when I was seventeen. Steve was lounging against the back wall, hands in his jeans pockets, waiting, watching, his expression unreadable. I mouthed a thank you, receiving a nod.
The girls were waiting for me to start and I sucked in a breath and lowered my hands to the keys. As my fingers began to dance, the character of the instrument charmed me with its familiarity. It was the same piano I’d played as a teen, and I felt a swell of gratitude at Steve’s persistence in repairing it instead of replacing it. His effort and care had brought out the beauty in the wood grains, taking its battered old appearance and flaws and transforming them into something to admire. Even the silent key rang true tonight, having found its voice in a gentle repair. Steve had seen this piano’s potential, just like he had my own. He was a man who noticed things that were swimming along below the surface, and he was unrelenting about
having his opinion about them taken into account.
I finished “I’ll Be Home for Christmas,” having been barely aware of playing. The girls took a bow as the audience wiped at tears, and I joined them before mutely walking offstage. The girls and I wordlessly gathered into a circle off to the side, sharing hugs.
“To Ms. King,” we whispered, our voices thick with grief.
As the next performance began, we melted back into the audience, joining our families. I was supposed to sit beside Calvin and Max, but the seat that had been saved was now filled by the flirty gal Emma had warned me about from the lodge at Blacktail Mountain. Max was pouting, arms crossed, and I considered waving him out of the row to come stand with me along the back wall with Steve, but when I glanced Steve’s way, his familiar form had vanished, just like it had at the end of our song all those years ago when we were teens.
Instead, I stood alone along the side wall, hands behind my back as the last of the night’s performers took to the stage.
When the last performance finished, I began moving toward the door to meet up with Calvin and Max, my jobs with the community center’s silent auction having been completed earlier. It felt odd being here without Ms. King, and to know that I was part of the next generation tasked with helping carry on her memory as well as the town’s traditions.
My parents drifted by, giving me hugs and well wishes before heading out into the dark night.
Max launched into me and I ruffled his hair, wishing it was my night to have him. It felt as though Calvin had had him for so long with the trip, and now jet lag recovery. I knew it would even out in the long run, and I was grateful Calvin had taken him, but it still made me feel as though I was losing out, even though Calvin and Max had come over to my house for Christmas morning.
“You played well,” Calvin said. His posture became slightly awkward. “Did Steve get you a new piano?”
I shook my head. “He just brought out the best in this one.”
Calvin pushed a hand partly through his hair, his gaze on my boots. When he looked up, he let out the breath he’d been holding. “I think he’s also brought out the best in some other things, too.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…” Calvin paused, the words not coming easily to him. “You seem different.”
“I’m not.”
“A few weeks ago you wouldn’t have decided to go back to school.” He caught my sharp inhalation, and as if afraid I was going to light into him, added quickly, “It’s good. I like it. And you’re right to want more for yourself. And... I’ll help you in any way I can. I’m sorry I wasn’t more supportive when you told me about going back.”
“You already help me more than you should.”
“No.” It was his turn to shake his head. “We were partners, and just because we’re no longer together doesn’t mean I get to renege on obligations.”
Obligations. Somehow that was what I’d become to him. It was an unfortunate word choice, but I understood his intended sentiment. He was here and had my back, just like I’d had his during our school years. It wasn’t his fault—or mine—that our love hadn’t lasted.
“You’re a good man,” I whispered, barely trusting my voice.
“I could be better.”
“We could all be better.”
We smiled and shared Christmas greetings with the town mayor, Harriet Millar, as she hobbled by with her walker, her family following in a quiet procession of head nods as they moved past us and out into the cold winter night.
“I said no to France,” Calvin murmured. We were still standing by the door, and the way he said it was almost like it was directed at the departing Millars rather than to me.
“Why?”
“It was asking too much.”
“The job was?”
“No, moving to France was asking too much of all of us.” He glanced toward his mom, who was chatting with her husband and Miles Wilson, now recovered from his bout with the flu. “I was being selfish.”
The tension that had been slowly weaving through me over the past few days, tightening as it wound around me, suddenly unspooled, leaving me feeling free. We were staying put. The only disruption in the New Year would be me spending a bit more time behind textbooks and my laptop.
“Thank you.”
The community center was almost empty now, the chairs already stacked and put away. The silent auction organizers had closed and collected the bidding sheets so they could contact the winners, and the three of us shifted closer to the door, where we’d part ways. I zipped my coat up to my chin, then told Max to zip up his as well.
We stood quietly, a sadness befalling me. A woman who’d just been granted a reprieve from another move, this one international, and was faced with the opportunity to pursue her chosen degree, with support from her ex, should feel a bit more joyful than I was, shouldn’t she? Was it simply because Christmas was now over? The dinners done? The extravaganza and community events wrapped up?
Or was it something else? Something more Steve-related? Because truthfully, I missed him, and even his meddlesome ways. He wasn’t perfect, and I wasn’t, either. But together... we were better.
I sighed, promising myself I’d work through that little revelation later on tonight, when I was alone.
“You’ll tell me if you need anything for school?” Calvin asked, lightly touching my sleeve.
“I’ll need extra child care from time to time.”
Calvin nodded, a slight smile haunting his lips. “A few weeks ago you wouldn’t have. You’re—”
“I’m the same,” I insisted.
“No. This is good.” There was affection and approval in his gaze. “I like that you’re standing up for what you need—even if it means you’re going to be busting my chops a lot more.” He winked before I could get upset, then reached out to touch my sleeve again, saying softly, “It looks good on you.”
“Thank you.”
Calvin tipped his head toward the exit, and I peeked through the doorway. Steve was waiting just outside on the steps, and my heart did one of those skips that would alarm a cardiologist.
“I don’t know what happened that made you two friends, but I think it’s good, too.” There was that flicker of a smile from Calvin again. It felt like a part of each of us was saying goodbye again. And in a way, like we were still figuring out how to grow up, too.
“Go say hi.” Calvin gave me a nudge when my shyness caused me to hesitate. He smiled, and suddenly he was that teenage boy I had wanted to win over. The boy who I believed would always be on my side.
In some ways, maybe he still was.
Steve was leaning against the railing, hands in his pockets, when Calvin, Max and I left the community center. He looked handsome, calm and somehow sure of himself despite our tough words two nights ago.
“Goodnight, Joy,” Calvin said, ushering Max down the steps as he gave Steve a nod of acknowledgment. “Steve.”
“Calvin,” he replied, nodding in turn. He put a hand out for Max to high-five on his way by. “Hey, little man.” Max jumped, meeting Steve’s hand with his own.
“Hey, big man!” he chirped.
I stopped on the top step as my family continued on.
“Merry Christmas,” I said to Steve.
“Was the piano okay?”
“Someone brought out the best in it.” I dared myself to meet his eyes so he’d understand I was putting myself out there, and that I appreciated his gesture. “I was ready to discard it, but I was wrong.”
“That’s funny.” He gave me a crooked smile, his head down so he could give me one of those carefree, casual looks that were kind of sexy if I let myself think about it.
Which I didn’t. At least not too much, since he seemed to be laughing at me.
“How’s that?” I had my arms crossed, but tried to force myself not to get riled up.
“I was wrong, too.”
“You were?” I put a palm on my chest as my heart gave an ext
ra thump. Man, if I hung out around Steve much more I was going to have to book an appointment with a cardiologist.
He shifted, moving away from the railing. Toward me. “I was wrong about you.”
“What?” I sounded breathless. If I didn’t know this was a well-known Steve Effect I’d have my lungs checked out, too.
“I judged you for caring about others. And you’re right. I saw my mother in you. You share a lot of her traits. I feared that you were getting the raw end of a bargain. I care about you, Joy.”
“I care about you, too.”
“That isn’t what I was hoping to hear.”
“What?” My heart dropped.
“Maybe I should say it first.” His fingers found mine, entwining our hands together. “I love you, Joy.”
Okay, call back the cardiologist; this man was going to give me a heart attack tonight.
“I want the best for you, and I hope that somehow, even though I’m just some guy who annoys you, that you will find room for me in your life.”
I held back for a moment, then gave up and threw my arms around him. I nestled my face against his neck and just breathed him in, enjoying the feel of his strong arms wrapped around me.
Steve Jorgensen loved me. Me! Joy Evans. The object of his judgment. Because he wanted good things for me.
“Does this hug mean I can stick around and continue to be a meddling pain in your butt?”
I slid out of his arms and stood in front of him. “I thought you were going to try and reform?”
“Nope. You have to love me just the way I am, because most of the time I’m right.”
“Good. Don’t change a single thing about your meddlesome, bratty self.”
He ran the pad of his index finger down my nose, then gave it a light tap. “And why should I stay like this and not reform?” He had a mischievous twinkle in his eye as though he figured I was about to walk into a well-laid trap.
“Because I love you, you big, nosy, bossy know-it-all. You were right about my life.” I let out a quick, loud sigh. “And you pushed me to start making some changes. They’re small and potentially disruptive, but I’m fairly sure they’ll pay off.” I finished huffing at him and met his eyes. “And I hope that you will be here to see them.”