by Ana Balen
Zara came running my way. “You looked like a princess up there,” she shrieked.
“What, honey?” I was confused how someone dressed in jeans, and a gray coat looked like a princess.
“When you looked at my daddy and were murmuring something, all the lights started to glow brighter and it looked like your hair sparkled.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say, so I just kept looking at her as she danced her way through the crowd to her dad. And I followed her every step of the way.
“You okay?” Dylan’s question came as soon as I was in hearing distance.
“Yeah.” I nodded my head more than I actually spoke the words. I was drained and more than ready to find out if there were any trees left and lug it home, then go to bed. I decided to leave decorating it for another day.
He took a step closer to me, squishing Zara between us, and automatically my hand went to the top of her head, sliding gently into her brown strands. He tracked my movements and when I met his eyes again, they were glowing with gentleness. “You cried a long time, Sophie, are you sure?”
“Yes,” I hesitated. “It’s just that it was somehow strange up there.”
“Strange how?” His question came quick, not giving me a chance to think about what I was saying.
“There were just all those strange feelings that rushed all at once when I got close to it, but the one that was most prominent was loneliness and the fact I didn’t now belong to anyone, and had no one who belonged to me was the one that crushed me.”
“You don’t have anyone?” the small voice asked. I looked down and saw the tears dancing in Zara’s eyes.
“My grandmother died recently,” I said just as softly.
She looked up at Dylan then back to me. “But...”
I didn’t want her to feel sad or any concern for me, so I leaned down and whispered, “Don’t worry, honey. I have friends. And I have Mrs. McConnell.” I couldn’t help it. I knew it wasn’t my place, but I still did it. I leaned deeper and kissed her forehead. “And now I have you as my friend,” I finished, still whispering.
As I stood back up, she threw me a dazzling smile that was missing one tooth.
I looked around and hurriedly looked at Dylan. It was getting weird and I really wanted to go home. Tucking the long blonde strands of hair that kept getting into my face, behind my ear, I threw him one last cautious look. “I’ll see you around.”
Just as I was starting to pass by him, his big palm closed around mine. Stopping me in my tracks, I looked up into his beautiful face. “You’re not alone, Sophie,” he rumbled and squeezed my hand. “Don’t pick up any tree. All that are left are shit. I’ll call you and pick you up tomorrow and we’ll go and get one in the mountain.”
I would love to say I hadn’t checked my phone every few minutes anticipating Dylan’s call.
But I did.
I also convinced myself I was being stupid, and he has changed his mind and decided not to call or take me tree searching, upon which he would cut that tree for me and I would get to take it home.
I also gave my best trying not to imagine decorating the said tree with him and his daughter while Christmas music played in the background, Mrs. McConnell sat in an armchair bossing us around, the smell of cookies baking filling the house, and all in all a Hallmark scene played in my grandmother’s house.
I failed.
I did all that.
That was why when the phone on my desk rang, I screamed a little, scaring an already frightened mother of four who was also sleep deprived half to death.
“Sorry,” I muttered while picking up the phone and sliding the green icon on the screen. “Hello?”
“Soph, Dylan.” His deep voice caressed my eardrums.
I shivered in response.
“Hi.” To my utter despair I breathed dreamily.
“Listen, we’re not going to be able to go get a tree today. Something came up.” If he noticed my breathy voice, he didn’t give any indication he did, he went on like it was all business. “So we’re moving it to tomorrow.”
“Oh.” The sharp stab of disappointment clutched my chest. “Okay. Is everything alright?” I tucked my hair behind my ear, a nervous tic I developed in med school and one I couldn’t get rid of, no matter if I left my hair down or had it in a ponytail.
“Yeah.” He was distracted and not giving any kind of explanation.
“Okay,” I repeated and wanted to slap myself. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
“Tomorrow, bye.” He disconnected.
Looking up and forming an apology for the disruption I was met with a knowing smile from the exhausted mom. “I see you’re in the middle of a fun road.”
“I’m sorry?” There was nothing fun about this frail relationship or friendship, or whatever that was between Dylan and me.
“Don’t worry, girl.” She waved her hand. “I know it doesn’t seem that way now, but when you finally get that man who was on the other end of that call, you’ll look fondly on this time.” She gave an explanation that was not an explanation and looked to her four young children sitting on the examination table in my office.
Her face was soft, it was also content.
It was a sight to see.
I didn’t share that that would never happen. Because I would never get Dylan.
I also didn’t tell her that what she said didn’t explain anything.
Because, in the end, it did.
For the rest of the day, I bounced between the despair of Dylan canceling and daydreaming of what it would be like to spend some time with him and his daughter. Both scenarios terrified me.
The despair spectrum because it was getting more and more difficult to hide the truth from myself and just how much I wanted that man. It was pretty impossible after the night of the well. But by now it seemed he and Zara were everything I thought about. Everything I longed for.
Which brought me to the daydreaming spectrum and the paralyzing fear that Zara would change her mind and hate me on the spot. Instinctively, I knew, if she did, there was no chance in hell Dylan would ever speak another word to me. His daughter was that important. I knew he was a great dad, but the reality was proving to be much better than I ever dreamt about. I also knew, if she didn’t like me, it would leave me crushed because I wouldn’t just lose a chance with Dylan, even if that chance existed only in my mind, I would also lose a girl that would become an integral part of me. With or without her dad. She was just that magnetic.
After coming home from the office, I did only thing that was there to do. I went straight in the direction of my kitchen and I baked.
I baked while I dreamt of a little girl’s laughter filling the sweet smelling space.
off the last tear off my cheek, I did the impossible.
I admitted the truth fully.
I wanted Zara and Dylan all to myself.
Because, even if they didn’t know it, it didn’t matter.
I was theirs.
10
Sophie
I watched Zara and Vivian as they skipped their way down the forest path, hand in hand, giggling and pointing at things they found either hilarious or fascinating.
Zara had a Mrs. Claus costume on and Vivian had a pointed hat that trailed a shimmery veil to the middle of her back on her head.
“She has it because she’s my godmother,” Zara said when she saw me looking at Vivian’s head.
“Oh,” was my reply.
“And because it’s totally fun to have a legitimate excuse to put on silly clothes,” Vivian whispered just so I could hear. “You can always say, the child made me do it and no one will bat an eyelash.” That made sense and she was right, no one would think about it for a second if you had a child next to you. Even I dressed up while working on the pediatrics floor in the hospital. Kids responded better if you operated on their level and not talked down to them. They also wanted to be included in everything, even the dire conversations.
As I parked a
t the start of the trail, right at the bottom of the mountain, per Dylan’s instructions, I felt dread filling me.
He called in the morning saying that he wouldn’t be able to pick me up after all and to meet here.
I hadn’t questioned anything, just hopped in my car and off I went. I couldn’t wait to see if there was even a slight chance for… anything between us. I convinced myself I would settle for being civil just as long as I had a legitimate excuse not to run away in another direction when I saw him on the street, or if I could stay and live in Hopeful. I knew it would kill to live here and not have everything I wanted, but I needed to be close to him and Zara. And I was at a stage where I would take breadcrumbs if they were all that was offered.
As I watched, who I now knew was Vivian, laughing with Zara and Dylan looking at them with a strange, almost longing look on his face, all I wanted to do was turn my car and drive far away. All the hope and conviction that I didn’t expect anything more than a pleasant afternoon that would maybe end in us behaving like acquaintances, if not friends, evaporated. It was the moment that cemented that I wanted all or would accept nothing. Unfortunately, they’ve already seen me.
I wasn’t even five seconds out of the safety of my Mustang when Vivian skipped her way to me holding Zara’s hand firmly in hers, and said, “So, you’re Sophie. I’m Vivian, Zara’s fairy friend.” She winked and looked at Dylan, shook her head and yelled over her shoulder, “You’re an idiot.” Looking at Zara, she threw her a big smile. “Okay, baby girl, it’s time to find that awesome tree you’ve been raving about. Lead the way,” and off they went.
Watching the three of them, I felt I was somehow intruding and didn’t belong there.
I also felt jealous.
And lonely.
I could have had that.
In another world.
In another time, this could have been mine.
“So...” I began just to break the awkward silence that left as the two females went off.
“She’s Zara’s godmother.” Dylan looked at me, an edge to his voice. “She’s also my former partner’s wife.”
I tilted my head, not getting why he was telling me this. I knew the godmother part, but the former partner thing, I didn’t. I also was certain that if I asked, he wouldn’t elaborate. “Okay?”
“The questions are written all over your face, Sophie.”
“What questions?”
“Is she Zara’s mother? If we are a couple.” The edge was getting sharper and was starting to slice into me. “I’m not sure you deserve them, but no.”
“No, what?”
“No, to all of your questions.” He started to follow his girl and a woman who I still didn’t know the role of in his life.
“You have a daughter,” I said softly. Maybe it was just to say something, maybe it was in some form of getting the answers to questions I had no right to ask. Even he pointed that out.
“I have a daughter,” he confirmed unnecessarily.
“Where...”
“Don’t, Sophie,” he muttered, not even looking at me.
“Don’t what?”
“Just, please.” He sighed, then repeated,” Don’t.” Stopping, he turned my way and for a brief moment showed me the years’ worth of pain before his eyes flashed and he buried it. “Let’s just get this over with. Zara wanted you here and even if it’s not right, I tend to give my baby girl whatever she wants. Especially at Christmas,” he whispered.
I looked down the path again and saw that they were so ahead of us, I could barely see them.
And in that moment, I knew nothing would ever change.
I wouldn’t get Dylan back.
I would never have Zara be a part of my day and to have a right to put on a ridiculous hat just to make her happy and skip my way through life with her.
We could never come to the point of being able to coexist in Hopeful.
I would have to leave.
Leave all this behind.
Just as I found my way home, I would once again have to give it all up so he could live his life without me interfering and intruding.
I didn’t want to remind him of another time. Of a time when we were an us and we were happy.
I didn’t want to bring him pain.
It took me only a second to realize this.
It also took me one more to know what I needed to do to be able to go without regret and looking back.
That was why I looked, took a step closer to him, noticing his body tensing. I ignored that and whispered, “I get it.”
“You get what?”
Indicating the girl and a woman singing down the path, completely lost in their world, I tried to explain, “She has your future, I had your past.”
I took advantage of his mouth opening, of him trying to say something, and quick as a whip, my hand shot out tagging him behind his neck. Pushing up to my tiptoes I rose up, his head came willingly, but I was too focused to notice. He met me halfway. That didn’t register in my brain, either. The only thing I knew was his mouth. His lips.
I wanted them.
I got what I needed.
I knew I did the right and the wrong thing the instant our lips met and my tongue touched the tip of his.
I moaned, preparing to push in deeper, to burrow into him one last time and could feel the vibrations in his chest as something rolled in them. His arms flew around me, crushing me to him. Squeezing the breath out of me.
Yes.
God, yes.
My whole body started tingling. My knees forgot how to hold me up and they buckled. Dylan held me fast and took all of my weight. When he did, I moaned again. I needed more. More of that kiss. More of his lips, tongue. More of him.
I trailed my hand that was behind his neck to his throat and down, my other one went from his hip and up. Until both of them met on his chest. God, I wished he hadn’t had the Henley and coat on so I could feel the heat of his skin.
I took a step into his, opening my mouth even farther. He took advantage and deepened the kiss. Everything seized to exist, and I bunched his coat in my hands and pulled him in.
When I did, he groaned so fiercely my insides vibrated and my head started swimming.
That all stopped when a cheerful shriek pierced the air, “Daddy!”
Tearing back, I took three steps back and stared at him. When another excited shriek came, I panted, “Please tell Zara I’m sorry I had to go. And I hope you have a magical Christmas.”
“Sophie,” he began to say, his hand going up and my way. I didn’t listen, I turned and hurried to my car.
He didn’t try to stop me.
He didn’t follow me.
He didn’t even call my name again.
With shaking hands, I opened the door, got in, and started up the Mustang.
My vision fought me on being blurry all the way home, but I managed to clear it.
When I got home, I exited the car and ran into my house.
It was after the lock clicked, I dumped my coat on the floor in front of the door and was buried under my grandmother’s blanket that the first tear rolled down my face.
And it was after that that the sobs came.
11
Dylan
“You’re an idiot,” Vivian said in passing, again. It became her mantra, and she repeated it to me whenever I was in an earshot. She sat down in a chair, making sure she was in my line of sight. I waited for her to explain what she was on about, even if I knew. I knew the first time she said it, two seconds after meeting Sophie. I tried to tell her some bullshit story about who Sophie was, but she knew me too well. And the moment Sophie’s name was said aloud, she knew exactly who Sophie was. I waited for Vivian to say something else. She didn’t. She brought her mug up to her mouth and blew lightly.
I didn’t need that shit.
I needed to have a quiet night, without the silent warnings from Vivian and promises of a lecture that was bound to come my way when Zara was tucked in her bed. Also, that
bottle of whiskey that sat in my cabinet for over two years was getting opened.
When Vivian just continued to sip at her drink and look at me like she expected something, I sighed and looked away. “You said that already.”
“It bears repeating,” she mused.
“And why is that exactly?”
“Because you’re sitting here.”
I bit my tongue and didn’t respond. All I could do was hope she would eventually give up.
All afternoon I wanted to go after Sophie. It burned in me to hunt her down. Unfortunately, I wasn’t all too clear what I would do if I went after her. Would I demand she finally left or would I finish that kiss?
Christ, that kiss.
The moment I felt her skin touch the back of my neck and she gave a slight push, I stopped thinking and just let go of my control. I bowed my head for her. I met her halfway.
When we were together, I loved the fact that she was so short I had to literally bow my head to get her mouth. It gave me the sense of satisfaction that she was able to burrow her whole body into me, that I could pick her up not batting an eye or when she used to demand for me to wrap myself around her, no matter where we were or what we were doing, because she was cold. The fact that whenever she did something, she came to me because she knew without a doubt I could and would give it to her, it fed my soul.
But when I felt that first touch of her tongue after seventeen years, something I didn’t dare to dream of, I felt a current going through my system. Right from my mouth, zipping in my chest and gut, all the way to my dick.
Jesus.
For seventeen years I was depriving both of us of the electricity that used to fuel us.
I was starving myself of the fuel only she gave me.
And the need that burst forth the moment she opened her mouth was off the charts.
I looked at Zara coloring under the freshly cut tree and I thought back to the time I spent with Cindy.