“That’s wonderful, honey,” said my mom. “And Claire, don’t worry about the pudding. Your mind was probably elsewhere when you were making it.” Her eyes twinkled.
“Like where?” Giselle wondered, dipping her finger into the pudding she’d just rejected and sucking it clean.
“Like on her handsome new boyfriend.”
Giselle’s mouth dropped open. Even my dad looked up from his pudding, and there wasn’t much that could distract my father from desserts.
“Boyfriend?” my sister echoed.
“Yes. She’s been hiding a hunk from us.” My mother giggled, her cheeks rosy from the wine.
Speaking of wine, I reached for mine and took a big drink.
“You have?” Giselle asked, clearly shocked. “Who is he?”
“His name is Theo,” my mother bubbled, “and he’s just adorable. I went over there Sunday and he was at her house helping her redo the kitchen cabinets. Although I do think you should have gone with white, dear.”
“I like them dark,” I said, trying to think of a way out of this without having to say there was no Theo anymore.
“So what does he look like?” my sister asked.
“So handsome,” my mother gushed. “He owns his own business, he’s from Connecticut, and he might have even gone to Yale.”
“Really?” My father perked up. After football and birds, Yale was his favorite thing to talk about.
“He didn’t go to Yale,” I said.
The table was silent, and I took a deep breath, preparing to tell the truth and be pitied. Or mocked.
And then.
“He went to Ohio State. Played football there,” I added, giving my dad a smile. Theo had mentioned he played football in high school and college, although he hadn’t elaborated. I had no idea if he’d even gotten a degree or not.
“Did he?” My dad beamed. “That’s a good program.”
“Yes,” I said, my mind working furiously to stay one step ahead of my tongue. My ears began to tingle.
“So is he built like a football player?” Giselle asked.
“Totally.” I drank some more wine. “He doesn’t play anymore, but he’s in great shape.”
“He seems very sweet to her.” My mother nodded happily. “And you can just tell by the way he looks at her how much he cares.”
I swallowed hard. “It’s still pretty new.”
“Is he coming over tonight?” my mom asked hopefully.
“No, he’s at his brother’s house tonight. He’s got three nieces he just adores.”
“Sounds like a real catch,” Giselle said. “I’d like to meet him. What are you guys doing for New Year’s? Why don’t we all get together?”
“Oh, we can’t. We’re going away for New Year’s.” I thought fast. “I meant to ask you, actually, Mom, if I could use the cabin for a couple days? I want to show it to Theo.”
“Of course!” my mom said brightly. “I’ll give you the keys tonight. I was just up there last week, so the pantry is stocked. You know how to turn the heat up and everything?”
“Mmhm.” I finished off the last of my cabernet, congratulating myself on a performance well played. I’d head up to the cabin for a couple days, come home, and say we’d had a big fight about something. Then I’d tell everyone at work the same thing when school was open again. It would mean taking time off from the restoration of my house, but maybe the little vacation would be good. I could sketch or paint, take walks in the woods, enjoy the solitude. If I stayed home, where even my own bed reminded me of Theo now, I’d probably just wallow.
After helping my mother with the dishes while Giselle and my father played Scrabble in the next room—“Dad, spanx is totally a word”—, I went up to bed, the keys to the cabin tucked in my hand.
I always spent Christmas Eve at my parents’ house, in my old room, in my old bed. It was sort of silly, but it meant a lot to my mother, who still played Santa, setting out gifts for my father, Giselle, and me under the tree. In the morning, tradition dictated we all put on a Christmas sweater and open gifts together, after which my dad made eggs and bacon for everyone, and my mom and I baked cinnamon rolls. Later, we’d make real hot chocolate and watch It’s a Wonderful Life as we drank it from these oblong coffee cups my mother called “hug mugs” because you had to cradle them with two hands.
I often rolled my eyes at my mother’s goofy traditions, but in my heart I knew I’d probably do the same things for my children one day.
If I ever have them. Depressed, I snapped off the lamp and pulled the covers up to my chin.
In the distance, I heard the familiar sleigh bells CD that my mother had played every year after Giselle and I went up to bed in the effort to convince us there really was a Santa Claus.
But there was no Santa Claus. No Easter Bunny, no Tooth Fairy, no Prince Charming coming to wake me in the morning with a kiss.
“Asshole,” I muttered. Then I flopped onto my belly, squeezed my eyes shut, and went to sleep.
Twenty-Three
Theo
* * *
Nothing was more depressing than being alone at Christmas. I knew, because I’d spent many a holiday in a crummy hotel room, eating Chinese takeout and watching A Christmas Story. I never got tired of watching that movie. After I saw it for the first time as a kid, I used to daydream about having a family like that—a gruff but funny dad like the Old Man; a sweet, loving mother; a brother close to my age to play with. I wanted to be Ralphie. I wanted that feeling he experiences when his dad tells him there’s one more gift behind the tree. I wanted my biggest problem to be broken glasses. I wanted to beat up Farkus. I wanted to look back at my childhood and recognize the best present I’d ever gotten.
My grandmother had gotten me some nice things. Toys I wanted, clothes I needed, books I mostly ignored. I liked Legos best, especially sets that built a plane or a helicopter. She’d also baked cookies and roasted a chicken, served with mashed potatoes and gravy. It was good, but my mouth watered every time I thought about that meal Claire’s mom had described. I wondered what Claire would say about me at dinner. Would she tell them the truth?
Not that she knew the truth.
I frowned as I mindlessly flipped through channels on my old TV. Every time I thought about how I’d bolted on her, I felt like shit. I was always going to walk out—I’d just done it a little more suddenly than planned. I’d said some harsh words, too. Her feelings had clearly been hurt. Knowing I’d hurt her made my chest cave in. She hadn’t really done anything wrong, and I’d made her feel bad. God, I was an asshole.
I found the station showing the Christmas Story marathon and watched it for a few minutes, but even that didn’t cheer me up. Sighing, I switched off the TV and tossed the remote on the couch.
Both Josie and Aaron had called and texted, inviting me to come over tonight. The girls are excited to see you, Josie had messaged. They have a gift for you. Please come.
I had presents for them too, which I’d planned on bringing over tomorrow, but tonight loomed long and lonely before me. Maybe watching them tear the paper off the Royal Dreams Dollhouse I’d gotten them would cheer me up.
After a quick shower, I got dressed and loaded one bag and one big box into my car. Before pulling out, I texted Josie that I was on my way and asked if there was anything she needed from the grocery store. While I waited for a reply, I noticed there was a text message on my phone from John Salinger, which was the alias used by the guy who hired me out for con jobs. Usually I was excited by the prospect of an influx of cash, but today I stared at his name and the series of numbers he’d texted with a mixture of regret and unease.
How long could I keep doing this and not get caught? I was good at what I did, but deep down I felt it was only a matter of time. And helping Claire out the last couple days, being at the stoneworks yesterday, had reminded me how much I’d liked that kind of work. I’d felt useful. Skilled. Necessary. Honestly, I couldn’t even remember why I’d quit. Probably I’d ju
st gotten restless and felt like it was time to move on.
Giving up on a good thing was my specialty.
Claire’s face popped into my head, and I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply and wishing I could smell her. I fucking missed her. I was sorry I’d hurt her. I wished things could be different—wished I could be different—but I couldn’t.
Josie texted back that she was all set and I told her I’d be there soon. I committed the number John Salinger gave me to memory, deleted the text message and backed out of my parking space. Maybe I’d call him later.
On my way to Aaron and Josie’s house, I rehearsed what I was going to say. I’d apologize for yesterday and make the offer to pay for rehab again without being insulting or demeaning. Aaron already felt so bad about himself. But if the answer wasn’t to cushion him and it wasn’t to abandon him, there had to be something in between that would work. Some way to help him without being an enabler.
If you were to stay here permanently, you could be more of a support.
Frowning, I shelved that thought for now, even though I knew it was true. But it would mean everything had to change.
I pulled into their driveway and noticed it had been shoveled after last night’s snow. That was a good sign. I hoisted the girls’ present from the back of my car onto my shoulder and walked up to the house. Through the window I could see the lights on the tree, and I heard music playing too. Kids laughing. I smiled. All good signs.
After knocking on the door, I opened it a crack. “Anyone here?”
“Uncle Theo!” shrieked a little voice.
“Hey!” I entered the living room and kicked the door shut behind me. “Look what I have!”
“What is that?” Three little girls circled me like puppies, jumping up and down with excitement.
“I don’t know! I found it outside on the porch. Let’s look.” I set it down, and they immediately put their hands on it.
“There’s writing on it,” said Ava, her eyes lighting up. “To Ava, Hailey, and Peyton!” She looked up at me. “I need help with the rest.”
I ruffled her dark hair. “It says, ‘I had to bring this a little early, and I’m afraid it didn’t fit down the chimney. Ho ho ho! Love, Santa.’”
Three smiles got even wider. “Can we open it?” Hailey asked.
“Sure.” I stood back and watched them tear off the paper, unable to keep a grin off my face. This was exactly what I’d needed.
“What’s this?” My brother came in from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel.
“Santa brought us…a dream castle!” Ava shouted. Deafening cries of joy pierced my ears. “Look how big it is! And it has furniture!”
Tomorrow morning, there would be three dolls under the tree for them too. Maybe I’d come over early and watch them open gifts.
“It’s from Santa, Daddy!” Hailey announced.
“Wow,” said Aaron, dropping to his knees to admire the gift. “Santa must know how good you’ve been this year.”
“Open it?” little Peyton asked.
“Sure.” Aaron got to his feet. “Maybe Uncle Theo will help with that while Mommy and I get dinner finished.”
“Oh, I think I can manage that.” I took off my coat and tossed it onto the couch. “Let me get a knife. Be right back.”
I left the kids touching the box lovingly and followed my brother into the kitchen. “Hey, Josie.”
She was at the stove, and turned to greet me over one shoulder. “Hey. I’m so glad you came. Brought some excitement with you, huh?”
“Wasn’t me, it was Santa,” I said, grabbing a knife from the holder.
“Thanks.” My brother clapped me on the shoulder and spoke quietly. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.”
“You made their night.”
I glanced into the living room, where they were still smiling. “They made mine, too.”
* * *
Later, when bellies were full and pans were soaking and kids were desperately fighting sleep in their beds, my brother and Josie and I sat with cups of decaf in the living room. They shared the couch and I took the chair across from them.
“When they’re asleep, I have a few more things to bring in for them,” I whispered.
“You’re too much.” Josie shook her head, tucking her legs beneath her. “After all you’ve done for us the last couple months, you did not have to buy them gifts.”
“I wanted to.”
Aaron set his mug on the table and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “It’s my intention to pay you back for everything you’ve given us. And it goes without saying how grateful I am, although I want to say it. Josie’s been telling me how much you did for her and the kids while I was gone.”
“They’re my family too.” And they needed me. I sipped hot coffee, trying not to let even a drop of resentment surface and ruin what had been a nice night. The nicest Christmas Eve I could remember.
“We are,” said Josie firmly.
“How are you feeling?” I asked her.
“Great. And before you ask, I’m seeing the doctor on Friday before work,” she said.
“Good.”
“I went to a meeting yesterday,” Aaron said.
I stared at my brother. “You did?”
He nodded. “And again today, and I’m going tomorrow.”
“That’s awesome, man.” I noticed how good he looked as well. Clear eyed and level-headed. “I’m proud of you.”
“You were right. I wasn’t acting like a husband or father. I wasn’t acting like a man. Not the man I want to be.”
I nodded. “You can get there.”
“Thank you,” he said, his eyes shiny. “For not giving up on me.”
I struggled to reply. My throat had gone tight. “You’re welcome.”
“So tell me what you’ve been up to.” My brother leaned back and picked up his coffee. “Working any jobs?”
“A few here and there. One just came in, actually.”
Josie frowned sadly. “I wish you didn’t have to do that.”
“Josie,” my brother warned. “We don’t need to judge.”
“I’m not judging.” She shook her head, touching her hand to her chest. “And believe me, I’m grateful for the financial help he’s been able to give us. But I worry every day that…” Her voice trailed off.
“I know,” I admitted. “I worry sometimes, too.”
“Do you? You always seem so cool and calm about it.”
“Because there’s no sense in worrying. It doesn’t change anything. But lately…” Fuck. Did I want to do this?
“Lately what?” she pressed.
I decided to brave it. “Lately, like just over the last few days, I’ve been thinking about my carpentry business. I kind of miss it.”
“You were so good at it,” my brother said with conviction. “I never understood why you gave up.”
“I didn’t make as much doing it as I made…doing other things. And I always felt so fidgety and unsettled when I stayed in one place too long. But maybe…I don’t know. Maybe I’m outgrowing that.”
“Why don’t you try again?” Josie asked.
“I could.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “I’ll give it some thought.”
“I’d help you,” Aaron offered. “I’d go in with you if you wanted a partner. I don’t have any money to put up, but I could apply for a loan once I got a job. We could save up. Invest in some more equipment. Advertise. I know a lot of contractors who might hire us.”
“I think that’s a great idea,” Josie enthused. “You guys would be a fabulous team.”
“I’ll give it some thought,” I said again. I’d probably have to get a legit job in the meantime too, until we got on our feet. Maybe the stoneworks would take me back part time.
“What made you start thinking about that again?” Josie wondered.
“I’ve been helping a friend of mine redo her kitchen, and I’m really enjoying it.”
“Her
kitchen? Hmmmm.” Josie’s eyebrows rose. “Very interesting. Who is this friend?”
“Just someone I met recently.”
“Is the someone pretty?”
My neck got hot, but I answered truthfully. “Yeah.”
“Are you…dating her?” The disbelief in my brother’s voice told me how well he knew me.
“No.” I sighed and closed my eyes for a second, Claire’s hurt expression still fresh in my mind. “We were just hanging out. But I fucked it up. As usual.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“No. I don’t know. Maybe.” Did I? Would I feel better if I talked this through? Maybe if I told them what had transpired, they’d be able to tell me I’d done the right thing, validate my decision to end things the way I had.
Josie laughed sympathetically. “The look on your face is pure agony.”
“Talk,” my brother said. “What did you do?”
I decided to try it. “I really like this girl. I just met her last week, but right away, something about her got to me. She’s really different than anyone I’ve ever met.”
Josie smiled. “How so?”
“She’s just…nice. Sweet. Smart. Fun. And so damn talented. She’s an artist and she creates the most incredible things, but she has no confidence in herself. Doesn’t think she’s good enough to sell what she makes, so she doesn’t even try.”
“How does she support herself?” asked Aaron.
“She’s an art teacher at an elementary school. And she’s really good at that, too. I took her to this wedding on Friday night, and all her co-workers were saying how incredible she is at her job.”
“Wow,” said Josie. “Sounds like a good catch.”
“She is. Totally different from me in so many ways, but we really hit it off.” And hit it hard. “We have…great chemistry.”
“So what’s the problem?” Aaron asked.
“The problem is that I was at her house last night and her mother showed up. Claire introduced me to her, and she started asking all these questions about me. It made me nervous. Her dad’s a judge, for fuck’s sake. I didn’t know that.”
If You Were Mine Page 15