Back To You This Christmas

by Sterling, S. L.

  "Hey, Mom."

  "Lexi, I called your apartment. Your line has been disconnected."

  "Yeah, Mom, I shut it off. Traveling to my next job," I lied. I hated lying to Mom, but she didn't need to know the real reason. I still really wanted my visit to be a surprise.

  "Listen, I was just talking to your father. Are you sure you can't make it home? We will pay for your ticket, even for a couple of days."

  I looked around the airport and smirked to myself. "I can't, Mom."

  The line went quiet, and I thought I heard her let out a sniffle, but then she cleared her throat. "So what time is your flight?"

  "It leaves in three hours. Cell service might be spotty where I am going, but I will call you as soon as I can."

  "How long is the flight?"

  "About eleven hours."

  "Where are you off to again?"

  "Geez, Mom, I can't remember the name of the city, and I don't have my boarding pass just yet," I lied as I stared down at the boarding pass in my hand.

  "All right, well, promise me you'll try to call us on Christmas day okay."

  "Sure thing, Mom. I love you."

  "Love you too, Lex."

  The other end of the phone went quiet and I hung up, shoving it back in my bag. I stuffed my laptop and boarding pass in as well and pulled my sweatshirt from the bag. I threw it over my head and glanced across the way to the small store. Deciding I needed two or three books for the flight home, I got up from the floor and wandered across the way to browse what they had. Three hours later, armed with four new books, two bags of chips, a sandwich, and some other snacks and drinks, I boarded the plane and was on my way to spend Christmas with my family for the first time in three years.

  Chapter 4

  Drew

  A bad rendition of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” played over the tiny radio I kept in my office. The ice cubes in my now-empty glass had started to melt, sliding down one another and clinking against the side of the crystal glass. I poured a bit more scotch into my glass and looked out the window. Outside, snow was just starting to lightly fall, and the darkened skies threatened more.

  I sat down and kicked my feet up on my desk, relaxing back in my chair. I picked up the paper that lay in front of me and stared down at the gold-leaf embossed invitation. They had only cost me a mere two thousand dollars to have printed—a bargain Laura had said, as she begged me to order them, and like an idiot, I’d complied. I read the written words over and over.

  Drew John, Laura Elizabeth, on this first day of June, in holy matrimony - love that will last forever.

  "Forever my ass," I said out loud as I threw the invitation down on my desk and picked up the glass, drinking down the remainder of my scotch. After fifteen years, it had all come to a grinding, crashing halt when the maid of honor was the last one to walk down the aisle. Laura, now known as the wedding wench, had left me, standing alone with my five groomsmen, in front of 500 of our closest friends and family, while she ran off with her new half.

  I tell you nothing says fuck you more than having to hand over fifty grand in cash for your wedding that never happened. What I struggled to understand was why? How? How could my wife-to-be and girlfriend since college just up and walk away without an explanation and not feel the least bit heartbroken?

  "Hey, Drew, I just wanted to stop in and make sure you were okay," Andrea said, stepping inside my office, glancing to the glass that I held in my hand.

  She was one of the girls from the front desk who felt the need to constantly remind me of what had happened. Like everyone else, she always wanted to coddle me. We'd had a whole discussion one afternoon in the lunchroom. She firmly believed that I needed to talk to someone, that I was holding everything inside, but I wasn't. I was fine because, after a while, the hurt goes away, and all that was left now was a strong desire to know the truth.

  "I'm good, Andrea. Thanks for asking." I was getting tired of this.

  "Well, have a merry Christmas, Drew. If you are lonely at all over the holiday, give me a call. I decided to stay in town as opposed to going home to my family. Flights were crazy expensive last-minute. Perhaps we could share a coffee and desert one night."

  There it was, her telltale “I can be a shoulder to cry on” offer. "Thanks for the offer, but I promised Zach I would spend the holidays with him and his family. So I'll be heading to Denver in the next couple of days."

  I saw a flash of sadness in her eyes as she looked down to the floor. "Well, that is great, Drew. Have a merry Christmas." She stood inside my door, looking from me to the glass and back to me, almost as if she wanted to say something else.

  "You too. You should get going before the weather gets any worse. Looks like there is going to be a good storm rolling in tonight." I nodded toward the window.

  She smiled, turned, and slowly walked away from my office, looking back over her shoulder at me and giving me a tiny wave.

  As soon as she was out of sight, I looked around my office, the fake Christmas tree that stood in the corner with its flashing lights almost mocking me at the fact that this was my first Christmas alone in fifteen years. I turned my eyes back down to that stupid invitation and clenched my fists.

  "Drew, could I see you for a second?" Trent asked, stepping inside the doorway of my dark office. "In my office please."

  "Sure thing." I got up from my desk and followed him down the hall to his office, loosening my tie as I went.

  "Shut the door behind you please," he murmured and took a seat behind his desk.

  I did as he asked and sat down across from him. Something in me knew this was probably about the last few cases I had been working on.

  "Drew, you are the youngest, highest paid divorce attorney in this firm. You have worked hard to get to where you are today. We are so proud of you and are hoping that you will stay on with this firm and become partner."

  I just about jumped out of my seat. How great would it be to start the New Year as partner? But then he cleared his throat and continued.

  "With that being said, you have fucked up. The last two cases that you completed were disasters, both clients not happy with the outcome."

  "Well then, I guess perhaps my clients should have thought about that before they stuck their dicks into someone other than their wives," I bit out.

  Trent couldn't say anything to that. He knew me too well, and he knew my thoughts on cheating, especially after what had happened to me earlier this year. We both hated it, and having to represent someone who did it sometimes got to me. We'd had lengthy discussions surrounding the subject.

  Trent let out a sigh and the corner of his mouth went up in a smirk. "Drew, one thing about you, you always say it like it is. Good thing we are behind closed doors and not in a boardroom full of other lawyers." He fiddled with the pen on his desk and deeply sighed before continuing. "Drew, the other partners and I are going to ask you to take some time off over the holidays. You've been working non-stop since, well, since June, and we think you might need a break."

  I had nothing to say. This was just one more way that the wedding wench was going to screw me over, on top of the fifty grand I was still busy rebuilding in my investments.

  "So starting Monday, I don't want to see you here until the New Year, and when you return, we all want that lovable, level-headed Drew that we used to know. Got it?"

  I hung my head once again, feeling the weight of everything that had transpired six months ago. "Yes, sir." I placed my hands on his desk and stood up.

  Since June, I had plowed myself into every case that had been thrown my way, never giving myself any downtime. I had worked morning, noon, and night, and pretty much every weekend just to avoid the thoughts of Laura and what could have been.

  "What are you doing for the holidays, Drew?"

  "I'm actually joining my best friend and his family in Denver for the holidays."

  "Good, go home, Drew, spend time with family and friends. Give yourself a break and have a merry C
hristmas."

  "You too, sir." I did my best to walk out of that office with my head held high, but it only worked for a short while until I found myself back behind my desk looking down at that fucking invitation.

  I was beginning to think that this was going to haunt me for the rest of my life. I picked it up and threw it into my top desk drawer when my cell phone went off.

  "Hello."

  "Drew, it’s Zach."

  "What's up?"

  "Not too much. Listen, I just landed in Denver and I'm heading up to the chalet tomorrow."

  "Ah, well, have a safe drive! I'll see you when I get up there."

  "No, not so fast. I figured I would pick you up on the way. Mom and Dad are expecting you."

  "No, it's all right. I told you I would drive."

  "Why, so you can sit and pine over what could have been for the next few days? No way. I'll see you tomorrow around one. You better be ready."

  "No, man, don't bother. I'll drive up myself on Saturday."

  Zach was already gone, and I was greeted with a dial tone as I spoke the last couple of words. I swore under my breath and pocketed my phone, grabbed my jacket and laptop, and made my way out of the office, shutting off the pathetic little plastic tree that sat in the corner before I left.

  * * *

  I stood and looked out my living room window, sipping on my coffee. Dark-gray clouds hung overhead, making the day appear gloomy. The storm that was supposed to hit last night was more than likely on its way today, and from the looks of it outside, it was going to be rolling in early.

  I sat down on my couch and started scrolling through pictures on my cell phone, pictures I had sworn I would never look at again and didn't know why I hadn't deleted them yet. The same question rolled through my mind again: How could she just walk away?

  After I had paid the wedding bill and said good-bye to our 500 friends, co-workers, and highly judgmental family while profusely apologizing for the lack of wedding celebration and fun, I had called her. To be honest, I wasn't expecting her to answer, but she surprised me when she did. She didn't even sound upset, didn't even apologize. Instead, she was short and matter of fact, as if we were nothing more than mere acquaintances. It was that moment that I realized I had no idea what had happened between us.

  "Yo, Drew, you ready?" I heard the back door bang and Zach call from the kitchen.

  "Jesus, man, you scared me half to death. I told you I would drive myself!" I called out from the couch, quickly shutting down the screen on my phone just in time for Zach to step around the corner. I really should take my spare key back, I thought to myself as Zach grabbed an apple from the bowl of fruit on the counter and took a bite.

  "I know, but you are a lawyer, and lawyers lie. Where's your shit?"

  "It's ready," I answered as Zach looked around the room for some sort of luggage.

  "If it's ready then where is it?"

  "God can't a man enjoy his Saturday morning coffee? Give me a minute and I'll get it," I said, getting up from the couch and heading toward my bedroom.

  "I had my morning coffee three hours ago," Zach called out as I returned carrying my bag. "You're only taking one bag? I thought we'd hit the slopes while we were up there."

  "Then I'll have to buy all new equipment. I sold all mine after..."

  "For God’s sake, man, she left. You're not dead. Single men can still ski, you know."

  One thing about Zach I could always count on was that he didn't coddle people, especially me. Everyone around me wanted to wrap me up tight and protect me from all the hurt they thought I had going on inside. Zach, though, treated me just like he always did, because he knew the truth: I wasn't hurting, per say. I was just stumped more than anything.

  "It's fine. I'll get new stuff up there."

  Zach nodded and took another bite of the apple. "We should get on the road before the weather gets much worse. We have a good drive ahead of us."

  "Yeah, yeah, give me a second to clean out the fridge." I walked into the kitchen, Zach following behind me. I pulled the garbage over to the fridge and signaled for him to hold the bag open as I began throwing stuff away that was sure to go bad before I returned.

  "Man, I really would have thought all this would have been done before I got here," he said between the last few bites of his apple, throwing the core into the bag.

  "And you said you would be here at one! Just relax, don't get your boxers in a bunch. You weren't even supposed to be here, remember? I was driving myself at one point." I laughed and dumped the remaining food into the garbage, tying the bag tight and pulling it from the can.

  "Give me this. Go grab the rest of your shit," Zach said, pulling the bag from my hand and taking it out to the curb.

  I hurried to set the timers on the living room lights and pulled the blinds closed. Carrying my duffle bag, I locked the door behind me and walked over to Zach's rented SUV.

  "Where the hell you get the granny mobile?" I laughed.

  "Shut up and get in. You try renting a vehicle a few days before Christmas. You are guaranteed nothing of style, even with a reservation that you made four weeks in advance."

  I laughed and hopped inside, glancing back at the house as he backed out of the driveway. Two weeks up in the mountains with people I had known my entire life, who treated me like family and never turned their back on me. I wouldn't lie, I was looking forward to it. If I came back with nothing but a rested body and mind, I would be okay with it, but what I really wanted this Christmas were answers.

  Chapter 5

  Alexa

  I took my purse, leaving the remainder of my bags in the cab that was sitting in my parents’ driveway. I quietly climbed the stairs of the front porch and stood at the front door and rang the bell. I watched through the hole in the wreath as Mom came around the corner from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her red Christmas apron, stopping to adjust a blanket on the back of the couch before she even looked out the front door at who it was. As soon as her eyes landed on me, she ran to the door and ripped it open.

  "Lexi, oh my God, Lexi." Mom threw her arms around me, hugging me tightly. "When...How did you get here?" she asked, letting me go, looking at me, and then pulling me back against her again.

  "I took an Uber, Mom." I laughed as my face smashed against her shoulder as she pulled me in for yet another hug.

  "An Uber? Lexi, you should have called. We would have come down to the airport and picked you up," she said, hugging me tighter.

  "I know, but I wanted to surprise you." I laughed, hugging her back. "Are you surprised?"

  "Jim. Jim, get down here," Mom called over her shoulder and pulled me in the house. "Of course, I'm surprised."

  "Mom I need to get my bags," I said, trying to stop her.

  "Nonsense, your father can get them. Jim..."

  "For the love of God, woman, what is it?" Dad yelled as he ran up the stairs from the basement.

  "Look who's home!"

  Dad turned the corner and took one look at me. "Lexi! How's my girl?" he asked, pulling me in for a hug.

  I leaned in and hugged him, taking in a whiff of his cologne—Old Spice. The familiar scent reminded me of when I was five years old and I would curl up on his lap every chance I got for story time. "I'm good, Dad," I said, hugging him tightly.

  "Jim could you get Lexi's bags from the driveway?" Mom asked, sweeping me inside.

  "Sure thing," he said, grabbing his boots from the closet, while I shuffled things around in my purse looking for my wallet.

  "Here, Dad, money for the cab," I said, handing him a bunch of folded bills.

  "No, no, I got it. Go in and get comfortable and put your money away," he said, throwing his coat on and running down the stairs to the cab that waited in the driveway.

  Within minutes, Dad had all my belongings inside and was taking everything upstairs to my old room, Mom following behind me as I climbed the stairs with one of my small bags. I walked into my old bedroom; it looked exactly the same as it ha
d the last time I had been home. I walked over and sat down on the double bed and picked up Mr. Wiggles, my most favorite teddy bear from when I was a kid.

  "Mom, why do you still have Mr. Wiggles out?" I asked, letting out a laugh as I looked at the bear with a missing eye.

  "Because it wouldn't be your room without him," she said, coming into the room carrying an extra blanket over her arm and laying it at the bottom of my bed.

  "Thanks for the extra blanket," I said, setting Mr. Wiggles back down.

  Dad set the suitcases down in the corner by the closet door. "What a wonderful Christmas present," he said, wrapping his arms around me again.

  They both watched as I grabbed one of my bags and began emptying it and shoving clothes in my dresser drawers.

  "All right, we are going to go downstairs and get dinner started. You get settled." Mom grabbed hold of me and kissed my forehead. "I cannot believe that you are actually here. Your father is right, what an amazing Christmas gift." She squeezed me hard and finally let me go and looked down at all my luggage on the floor. I could tell she wanted to ask about all the luggage I had brought, but she didn't say anything. She just quietly closed the door to my bedroom, Dad following behind her, and left me to unpack.

  * * *

  The next afternoon, I sat in the kitchen with a warm cup of hot chocolate in front of me while watching my mother roam around gathering ingredients for the next batch of cookies she planned to make.

  "Did you want any mini marshmallows in that?" she held up a bag of the little multicolored marshmallows I loved.

  "Sure."

  She handed me the bag and continued searching the pantry for ingredients, placing the containers of cinnamon, nutmeg, and sugar down in front of me, then she began pouring ingredients into a bowl. It had always amazed me how my mother could bake. She made it look completely effortless. The woman very rarely used a recipe, often pulling the ingredients from some mental cookbook. I had no idea how she did it, but every single item she baked turned out perfectly. I certainly didn't have her talent. Not one thing I had ever tried to bake in my lifetime had turned out.