Back To You This Christmas

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Back To You This Christmas Page 3

by Sterling, S. L.


  I dumped in a handful of marshmallows, stirred them into the hot liquid, Mom glancing at me every now and again.

  "So, Lex, it's not that I’m not happy to have you home, but what gives?"

  "What do you mean?" I asked, finishing topping off my mug with more marshmallows.

  "Lexi, I'm not stupid. You brought all your bags home," she said, waving my grandmother’s wooden spoon at me then stirring up the mixture in the bowl. She claimed it was all because of that wooden spoon that everything turned out the way it did.

  "Mom, you’re acting as if I never come home. I was just here a few months ago."

  Mom stopped what she was doing and looked at me, studying me, trying to read between the lines.

  "Really, Mom, I'm fine. Everything is fine. I was just really missing home," I said, bringing the mug to my lips and sipping the now super-sweet chocolate marshmallow mixture.

  "Lexi, you were home over thirteen months ago." Just as Mom went to say something else, the oven timer went off, signaling that the batch of cookies in the oven was finished, changing her train of thought. She bent down and removed the tray, then slid the cookies off onto a cooling rack before sliding the next sheet of cookies into the oven. The smell of chocolate chips filled the air, which made my mouth water. When she turned around to put more doughballs onto the baking sheet, I snagged one of the fresh hot cookies from the rack.

  "Ouch," I let out as I inhaled a breath, the hot chocolate burning my fingers.

  "Lex, careful, those are hot," Mom scolded as I bit into the hot, soft cookie. It fell from my hand onto the kitchen island, breaking into two pieces. I gave her the same smile I probably had when I was five after stealing hot cookies from the cooling rack. I picked up a piece of the cookie and popped it into my mouth. One thing I never had to worry about: Mom cleaned better than she cooked. That cookie could have fallen onto the floor and I would have eaten it.

  "What are you making now?" I asked, nosing into the bowl in front of me.

  "Sugar cut-outs," Mom said as she moved the cooling rack over by the stove, no doubt so I wouldn't eat all the cookies before they had cooled. "Want to pick out the cutters?" she asked, handing me the familiar dented and scratched red tin that she stored the cookie cutters in.

  I lifted the lid and started searching through the tin for my favorite ones, while Mom started adding ingredients. "Oh, Mom, I could really use a new bed," I said, pulling out a Christmas tree-shaped cutter. The bed I had was old, and even though it held all the familiar dips in the mattress, it was much smaller than what I was used to.

  Mom stopped what she was doing and looked at me and laughed. "Lex, whatever is up with you, promise me you will tell me when you know. As for a new bed, we'll see what we can do okay." She sighed, picking up that wooden spoon again and began stirring what would eventually become the sugar cutout batter.

  "Mom...how many times must I tell you, nothing is wrong."

  "I know my children, Lex. Something isn't right. I'm not going to pry or force you to tell me. So, just promise me that when you have figured it out, you'll share."

  I ignored what my mother said, picked up the last piece of cookie from the counter, and popped it in my mouth as I continued picking out the cutters. Once I had the ones I wanted, I continued watching as Mom mixed in ingredients and stirred, every now and again checking on the cookies that were in the oven. How she knew something was up when I couldn't even explain what was going on with me was beyond me, but she did know her children, I would give her that.

  Truth was, I didn't know why I had such a strong urge to come home. Perhaps it was because it was Christmas and my least favorite time of the year to be alone, or something greater had pulled me here which I had yet to understand. Whatever it was, I was content to be here.

  The familiar sounds of the washing machine, the smell of the cinnamon, apple, cranberry concoction Mom had boiling on the stove to make the house smell more Christmassy, or the welcoming feeling of home as I stood in the driveway… Whatever it was, I was just happy to be sitting in the kitchen, drinking hot chocolate and eating the best warm chocolate chip cookies in the world.

  Chapter 6

  Drew

  "Hungry?" I asked, holding up a bag of sour cream and onion chips as Zach pulled the car from the gas station parking lot and back out onto the highway.

  "Starving. Open those up."

  I clicked my seatbelt into place first, and then peeled open the bag of chips. I took two chips and shoved them into my mouth before setting the bag in between us on the console. Zach reached in and took a couple as well, while I pulled back the tabs on the two cans of pop I had bought.

  "How are things going at the firm?" I asked as I popped another chip in my mouth and wiped my hand on my jeans.

  "Good, busy. You?"

  "Busy. You know I'm glad that I told you I would come up for the holidays. I needed a break from all that shit." There was no way I was going to let on that the firm had agreed I needed holidays. "Mind if I turn up this song?"

  "Go for it," he said, tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel as he drove.

  I reached over and cranked the volume. I just wanted and needed to shut everything out for a while, and that was exactly what I planned to do.

  "You realize this is the first time we have spent any time in length together since we took holidays in the spring, right?"

  "Yeah, how could I forget? That was a great time. How's things with Ann Marie?" I asked as I drank down the remainder of my pop and shoved the can into the empty bag that sat at my feet.

  "Couldn't be better, man. She'll be up with her family this week as well, and I believe she is coming to spend Christmas afternoon with us."

  "That’s great, man. It will be nice to see her again." I sat back, relaxing against the heated seat and thinking back to last spring break.

  I had gone out to visit Drew and Ann Marie for a week by myself because Laura had to work. As the week went on, I remembered thinking to myself that their relationship was so different from ours. It was the little things: the way that Ann Marie touched Zach, the way they looked at one another in the quiet moments. I tried not to let it get to me and just chalked it up to the fact that the relationship was relatively new. However, thinking back now, our relationship hadn't ever been like that, even when we were first dating.

  "Any more talk on a date yet?" I asked, looking out the window. The farther north we had driven, the more snow had accumulated on the roads, making them rather slippery.

  "We agreed to set one after Christmas. She wanted to wait and get all the holiday stuff out of the way first."

  "That's awesome. Hey, it looks like we may just be in luck for some good skiing weather," I said, digging my hand back into the bag of chips and shoving a couple into my mouth.

  "Yeah, I'm pretty excited about it! Lots of snow in the forecast. Should be the best skiing season we've had in a while up here." He glanced over at me. "So, man, how are you really doing?"

  I dropped my head in defeat and let out a loud sigh. "My God, not you too."

  "What? You're my best friend. Am I not allowed to care?"

  "You're allowed to care, but Lord, everyone around me has been acting as if I am some tiny fragile human being, and I am not. I got left at the alter. It’s not like she died."

  "I know, man." Zach got quiet, and I suddenly felt bad for snapping at him. I knew his concern was genuine.

  "Look, I'm sorry. I'm doing all right. I'm just getting tired of the pity, you know what I mean?"

  Zach looked over to me, another question forming in his mind.

  "Go ahead, ask away."

  "Did you sense something was wrong between the two of you?"

  I rolled my eyes. Here we go. "I don’t know. I just remember watching you and Ann Marie last spring. Laura and I never had the type of relationship you guys have. Truth be told I was a little jealous of that. After that weekend I spent with you guys, I felt something was off between us but couldn’t put my finger o
n it. We were both busy with wedding plans and figured we were just burned out from everything. However, she gave me no indication that she was unhappy. Hell, we were still having Sunday dinners with her parents up to a week before the wedding."

  "What happened then?"

  "If I knew, I would tell you," I said, shrugging my shoulders.

  "You do know she's engaged already, right?"

  I let out a sigh. "Yeah, I went to pick up a few of my things from her place a month or so ago. Her parents were there and they told me. I won't lie, it caught me a little off guard."

  "How do you feel about her being engaged so soon?"

  "Honestly?"

  "Yes," he said, taking a sip of his pop.

  "The only feeling I can describe is one of relief. It's like I told you the morning of the wedding, I should have been happy and excited to start my life with her, but I wasn't. Everyone told me it was just cold feet. Perhaps I wasn't the only one with cold feet."

  "Maybe you are merely numb to it all. Maybe that is why you aren't upset about it."

  I let out a laugh. "Nah, I don't think so. Maybe I’m still processing it, but to be honest, the only logical explanation I have is that I am my mother's child. That's it." I shrugged.

  "Drew, you are nothing like her. Just because she walked out on your dad and you when you were younger and didn't act like she cared doesn't mean that you are the same."

  "Sure it does. You explain it then." I shrugged.

  "Okay, I don't think it's that at all. Perhaps you just haven't found the right woman yet."

  "Zach, I had been with Laura for fifteen years. Fifteen years, man. We never fought, we liked all the same things, and we did everything together."

  Zach held up his hand for me to stop. "Perhaps that is just it. Couples should argue, man. You should have an all-out fight occasionally, clear the air. It's not natural for people to get along one hundred percent of the time."

  "True. Now can we please talk about something else?"

  Zach put the blinker on and turned onto the familiar road. "You got it. You ready for my mom’s apple raisin pie?"

  I had spent many years with Zach and his family up here after my mom had left, my father having gone down a very bad road with alcohol addiction. They had become a second family to me, and it was to them that I owed for what I had today. If it hadn't been for their influence on me, I would probably be just like my dad, drunk on some street corner somewhere in the city.

  "Honestly, I can't wait," I said, looking out the window as Zach drove into the main part of town.

  Everything looked the same as it always did. We drove past all the same little stores in the town center, most of them the ones that we used to visit during the summer holidays.

  "How's Lex?" I asked.

  "She's good, off freelancing around the world. She is such a flighty spirit. I have no idea how she does what she does. The girl has no guarantee of income, but somehow she manages to land on her feet every single time."

  "That's great. We all should be more like her."

  Zach looked over at me as if I had lost my mind. "You sure you're feeling all right?" He chuckled.

  "Yeah, I'm good. I just figure she probably has a lot less stress than we do. We have responsibility." I laughed.

  Zach pulled onto the familiar street and into the driveway of the family’s home. The chalet looked the same as it always had, a mix of stone and wood front, the large picture window in the front overlooking the mountain behind us.

  "Home sweet home," Zach whispered.

  I looked up at the front of the house. The only decorations they had out were the wreath on the front door and the garland sprays on the railings. Two wreaths also hung off the outside lights. The rest, as usual, would be for us to put up. Zach and I would do the outdoor lights and the tree as always. As I looked up at the front door, a funny feeling sunk into the pit of my stomach, and I suddenly felt very out of place.

  I hadn't even undone my seatbelt when Zach turned toward me, already standing outside of the vehicle. "Are you coming or are you spending the holidays out here in the driveway?"

  "Man, perhaps I should just stay at a hotel," I mumbled.

  Zach was just about to pull out a couple bags from the back seat but stopped what he was doing and looked at me. "You'd better be kidding. You know you are welcome here always. Hell, my mother would chase you all the way back to the city with a rolling pin if she heard you say that."

  We both let out a laugh. "Yeah, hell, you're probably right."

  "We should get inside. I know when I spoke to her the other day she said she was planning on baking up a storm yesterday and today. I also know for a fact that she has our favorite cookies in there right now, probably just cool enough to sneak in a few bites before dinner."

  I remembered the cinnamon swirl cookies he was referring to and my stomach let out a growl. "Sounds great." I hopped out of the car and grabbed my bag from the back seat, giving Zach a hand with his bag as he grabbed his ski boots and helmet. We raced up the stairs just like we had when we were kids, Zach pushing me out of the way to get inside first, both of us laughing as I slipped on the icy step and dropped our bags, putting my hands out to brace myself from falling. I bent down to pick up the bags and Drew went to reach for the door handle.

  "That's it, fuck face, the cookies are–"

  Zach stopped mid-sentence. "Fuck you, they are," I said, laughing as I picked up the bags I had dropped and continued the climb up the stairs, running straight into Zach's back.

  "What the hell are you two doing making all this noise. You both sound like a herd of elephants coming up those front stairs. You scared Mom and me half to death."

  "What the hell are you doing here?" I heard Zach mutter as I came to a stop.

  I didn't need to look around him to know who it was. I'd recognize that voice anywhere, and Zach had spoken the exact words that were running through my mind.

  I stepped up beside Zach and looked at the brunette who stood before us. She wore a form-fitting white angora sweater and black leggings, her curves filling out both pieces of clothing perfectly. She had grown into quite a beautiful woman, and I couldn't help but allow my eyes to run over her a couple more times before her blue eyes sought mine.

  What the hell was Lexi doing here?

  Chapter 7

  Alexa

  "Alexa, what the hell are you doing here?"

  I was just about to answer when I saw Drew come up behind my brother. Drew, the boy I'd had a crush on ever since he pushed my brother for acting like a total boy.

  I was eight and we had all been playing on the playground one afternoon. Zach had decided that it would be fun to surprise me with a present. He had come over with his hands behind his back, Drew trailing behind shaking his head. He had told me to close my eyes and hold out my hand, claiming he’d found a special caterpillar he wanted to share with me. Being the naive younger sister who trusted her brother, I did as he asked. Only when he dropped the item into my hand and told me to open my eyes, I was faced with a huge, slimy earthworm that slid and twisted in my hand.

  I started screaming and crying, Zach started hysterically laughing, but Drew? Drew got angry. He shoved Zach hard onto the ground and told him to stop picking on me. From that day on, I had crushed on Drew something fierce, all through high school, college, and until the day I left home, but it didn't matter because to him I would always be Zach's little sister.

  Stepping off to the side, I let the boys in. Zach stepped inside and placed his boots and helmet off to the side. He then grabbed me, wrapped me in his arms, and pulled me in for a big bear hug. Then he let me go, removed his jacket and boots, and stepped off to the side to allow Drew to come in.

  "Hey, Drew." I waved awkwardly, looking into his blue eyes.

  "Hey, Lexi." He held his arms open for a hug.

  At first, we awkwardly bobbed and weaved, and then I stepped into his arms and he wrapped them around me, pulling me in close. I expected a quick hu
g, but instead he surprised me by holding me tight for a little longer. I couldn't help but inhale his scent as I buried my face into the crook of his neck.

  "Welcome home, boys!" Mom called out from behind us. Drew instantly let me go to greet my mother and father.

  As I watched my mother and then my father greet both of the boys, a sense of peace came over me. Something about being home at this time of year warmed my heart. I was glad that I had decided to come home for two weeks and spend Christmas with everyone.

  "You boys are just in time for dinner! Roast beef, potatoes, vegetables, how does all that sound?" Mom asked, taking Drew's coat from him and fixing the collar of his shirt, something she had always done when he was growing up. Then she placed her arm around Drew and walked with him upstairs and into the dining room.

  I stepped out onto the front porch as the boys followed my parents to the kitchen and pulled their bags inside. Then I leaned against the door and locked it. I closed my eyes for a second and inhaled deeply, looking up into the dining room. I watched as Drew sat down, smiling at my mother as she handed him the bowl of mashed potatoes. He really had it all: looks, body, brain, and a kind heart.

  "Lexi, are you coming?" my mother called out, looking rather impatient. "We would like to eat."

  "Yes, Mom, I'm coming." I walked up the stairs and over to the table while staring at Drew. However, there was no use in wanting what I couldn't have. It was a dead-end road with him, I already knew that.

  I flopped down in my usual seat, which happened to be beside Drew, and waited until Zach passed me a bowl of vegetables.

  All through dinner, Dad basically grilled Zach and Drew on some of the legal happenings that were going on in the world. I was pretty much oblivious to all of them. That’s what happens when you live in another part of the world—you become disconnected from everything—but I listened intently and practically hung onto every word Drew said.

 

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