Come Again

by Kate, Jiffy

“I didn’t know how,” I confess. “I think I was still trying to protect Brant, which sounds ridiculous now...and you and Daddy. I knew you’d be hurt and disappointed and I just couldn’t tell you...but I should’ve. I regret that now. But the way you were always trying to get me to call him and fix things...I just didn’t want to hurt you.”

  “Oh, Avery,” she sighs, shaking her head as she peers out the large window that’s above the kitchen sink. “I thought...” Letting out a harsh laugh, she continues, “I thought you two were just having a lover’s quarrel. Never in a million years did I think he’d ever lay a hand on you.” She turns, her eyes rimmed with red and unshed tears settling in the corners threatening to spill. “My baby. And I had him here in our home over Thanksgiving, telling him I just knew the two of you would work things out, because you’re meant to be.”

  A sharp cry escapes as she places a shaking hand over her mouth.

  “I should’ve known.”

  “No, Mama,” I tell her, comforting her the only way I know how by wrapping her in my arms like she’s done to me on so many occasions. “There’s no way you could’ve known. The Brant you knew...that I knew...he would’ve never done anything like that. But he changed. He’s not the same person he was...that’s why I left.”

  Her body shutters and she drops her arms to my waist, pulling me into her warm, motherly embrace. “I’m so glad,” she says a steely strength returning to her voice. “I’m proud of you for getting the hell out of there.”

  I don’t say anything, but those words make me feel good. They help heal the lingering scabs leftover from Brant’s wounds.

  “And I’m so happy you’re happy,” she adds. “I’m not gonna lie. The age difference between you and Shaw does give me pause, but you’ve always been an old soul so I’m not surprised that yours found another.

  “Shaw’s not old, Mama,” I tell her, swatting a dish towel in her direction as I laugh at her wiggling eyebrows. Her eyes lock on mine and we share a moment of understanding—she’s happy as long as I’m happy. I know that. “He’s not perfect,” I admit, “but he’s perfect for me. You’ll see when you meet him.”

  “I’m coming to New Orleans soon.” She sniffles one last time, wiping under her eyes as she pulls back and straightens her spine. “I want to meet him...the man who stole my baby’s heart.”

  My eyes blink slowly...once, twice...“I’d like that.”

  “He’s special,” she adds with a nod. It’s not a question, it’s a statement. “Mother’s intuition,” she says with a soft chuckle. “Every time you say his name your face lights up brighter than Mr. Henson’s ridiculous Christmas lights.”

  “Is he going for the Griswold Award?” I ask her, picking a piece of leftover pie crust off the wax paper and popping it in my mouth. I’m weird. I like unbaked baked goods.

  “Stop that,” she chides, swatting at my hand and making me smile. “You’ll get worms.”

  I laugh, shaking my head at her. She’s told me that ever since I was a little girl, but I haven’t had them yet. “You’ll love Sarah too.” I tell her, sighing as I walk over to the oven for a peek. “She’s so great...and loves to bake and cook. The cooking school will be a highlight of your trip. Well, after meeting Wyatt.”

  “Now, if he was a little older,” she muses, “and I wasn’t married to your daddy.”

  “Mama!” I toss her an incredulous look over my shoulder. “He’s married too, you know.”

  “Right, that sweet Olivia.”

  I swear she knows more about my boss than I do.

  “He can park his boots under my bed any day,” she mutters. “That’s all I’m sayin’.”

  “Oh, my God. I’m going to pretend like I didn’t hear that.”

  We spend the rest of the afternoon baking and enjoying each other’s company. Around noon, we make my daddy and grandpa some lunch. My nana comes over and helps us whip up a batch of her gingerbread. With all of the Brant stuff behind me and my parents, and I’m sure soon, my grandparents, in the know, I breathe easy.

  If it wasn’t for missing Shaw, it would be a perfect Christmas Eve.

  But I decide early on in the evening that it’s okay to miss him. I needed this trip, a few days away, to solidify what I already knew.

  He’s it for me.

  And this will be the last holiday we spend apart, if I have anything to do with it.

  Later in the evening, my mama and nana decide to find a Christmas movie to watch, and lo and behold, what do they turn on but It’s a Wonderful Life.

  “Oh, this is my favorite,” Nana says, settling on the couch.

  “I really love it too,” Mama says, sitting down beside her. “Come on, Avery.” She pats the seat beside her and I do as she asks. “You’ve seen this one, right?”

  “Of course,” I answer absentmindedly, with my thoughts on Shaw. “It’s a classic.”

  “We’re all here to help each other get through life,” my mama says with a sigh.

  “This is Shaw’s favorite Christmas movie,” I tell them quietly. “We just watched it a few nights ago.”

  “Oh,” Nana says, sitting up straight to look over at me. “I have something you should give him.”

  “What?” Mama and I both look at her inquisitively because there’s really no telling what’s about to come out of her mouth.

  “I was at Mildred Smith’s house the other day and we were sorting through some boxes she’s had stored away for some years now and inside were some old books. She gave them to me since she doesn’t have the room for them and when I was putting them away on my shelf, I found an original copy of The Greatest Gift,” she says thoughtfully. “It’s what the movie is based off of.”

  “And you’d let me have it?” I ask hopefully. I’ve been thinking about what I could buy Shaw, but had come up empty handed. He’s one of those people who buys what he wants when he wants it. Plus, I haven’t had much time to shop.

  “Absolutely,” Nana says, leaning back into the couch and training her eyes back on the television. “It’d just collect dust on my shelves and you’ll have to go through them when I’m dead anyway. You might as well have it now.”

  “Nana!”

  “Mother!”

  Mama and I both exclaim in unison.

  “What? Everyone dies eventually.”

  “Good Lord,” Mama huffs. “Can we please just watch the damn movie.”

  I try to hold back my snicker, but fail. Between Mama cussing on Christmas Eve and Nana talking about dying, I lose it.

  “What’s so funny?” my daddy asks as him and Grandpa make their way into the living room. “Oh, It’s a Wonderful Life. My favorite.”

  We all sit and watch the movie, Nana offering her colorful commentary and Grandpa grunting his displeasure at her talking during the movie. It’s perfect.

  Christmas morning is slow and easy. Mama makes breakfast, Grandpa and Nana come over bearing gifts, and Daddy stokes a nice fire. We put a vinyl of Frank Sinatra’s Christmas hits on the record player and everyone casually sings along.

  Mama bought me a new backpack, which is much appreciated because mine is beginning to look tattered. Nana brought me the book she mentioned last night for Shaw and she made me a new knitted scarf. Mama and Nana both love the cookbooks I picked up for them at the airport. Daddy and Grandpa are happy with their pralines. It’s not much, but it’s enough. All that really matters is we’re all together.

  “I’m putting the rest of your Christmas gift in your backpack,” Mama says as we clean up the living room and get ready for a late lunch.

  “The rest of what gift?” I ask, confused.

  “Your daddy and I wanted to give you some money...just something to put back for a rainy day or if you need anything for your apartment.” She gives me a stern look when she sees the reluctance on my face. “We want you to have it. Besides, your nana and I got a new paddle boat and your grandpa and daddy got a new tractor, so it’s only right that you have a little something extra too.”

/>   “Thank you. I love you,” I tell her, wrapping her up in a hug.

  “I also want you to always have a way to get out of a bad situation,” she whispers. “Avery, promise me that you’ll always tell me...let me help. And your daddy. That’s what we’re here for.”

  “I promise,” I tell her. “I will.”

  “I love you.”

  That night, I sleep easier knowing my secrets are out in the open and my family knows about me and Shaw. When I lay my head down on the familiar pillow and listen to the whistling wind outside my childhood bedroom window, I feel at peace—my past and my present...and future...all merging together.

  The next morning, I get up early wanting to spend as much time as possible with my mama and daddy before they have to take me to the airport. I’m making my way around the side of the barn after helping my daddy put out feed for the cattle when I see a truck turn off the dirt road and make its way up the long drive.

  As it gets closer, I begin to make out the details—big wheels, shiny chrome that has no place on these dirt roads.

  Brant.

  My stomach begins to drop, but then I stop it. No way. If he’s stupid enough to come out here, then I’m ready for him.

  “Avery,” he says as he climbs out of the truck and lands on his feet with a bounce. Everything about him is the same as usual—well-manicured and in place. He looks like the same old Brant, but his shine has dulled in my eyes. I see the tarnish beneath the surface. Nothing about him holds any appeal to me anymore. But it’s his smile that puts me on edge. It’s assuming and presumptuous, like he came here expecting something. But I have nothing for him.

  Has he forgotten what our last two interactions entailed?

  “Brant,” I reply, steadying my voice.

  “My mama said you were in town. Why didn’t you call me?”

  His question catches me off guard and I’m sure the confusion is painted on my face, but I ask anyway. “Why would I call you?”

  “Well...because,” he starts, vacillating mildly. “I thought we might need to talk things out...figure out a way to get us back on track.”

  That’s when the steel rod in my back finds its place and I snap my head back in a boisterous laugh. “Oh, Brant. There is no us...I’m not sure there ever was an us. There was a you and when things didn’t serve your purpose...well, we know what happened after that,” I say, not willing to go there. I’ve re-hashed that night enough for a lifetime.

  “It was a mistake, Avery.” When anger seeps into his words, I take an instinctual step back, never wanting to be on the wrong end of his wrath ever again. He winces when he notices my retreat and stops where he’s standing. Hands in the air in surrender, he continues, “I’m sorry...I don’t know what got into me, but I can promise you that it will never happen again.”

  “You’re right,” I tell him with a nod. “It won’t, because we’re over and I hope I never have to see you again.”

  “We were good together,” he argues. The features I used to find attractive contort as he wrangles in his exasperation. “You know we were. Why would you throw away all those years?”

  I let out a harsh laugh, part of the indignation directed at myself. “I stayed with you for too long...waiting on things to get better. I think I was afraid to look like a failure,” I admit. “When you started putting your job and status ahead of me, I knew it wasn’t going to work...” I pause, taking a breath and collecting my thoughts. “I loved someone who no longer existed...I loved the idea of you, but I didn’t love you. How could I?”

  His stare is now glazed over as he begins to tune me out—not really listening to anything I’m saying—just like he used to do when we were still together and it pisses me off even more.

  “Love is based on trust, Brant,” I huff, wondering why I’m even wasting my breath to explain this to him when it’s obvious he’s a lost cause. Heaven help the woman who eventually falls for his bullshit. “We didn’t have that. It took me a little while longer than I would’ve liked for me to believe it...but we were over long before you hit me. That was just the nail in our coffin.”

  The way he flinches at my words makes me cock my head in disbelief. It’s the first time he’s ever looked even remotely regretful about his actions. But when he opens his mouth again, saying, “You don’t mean that,” I realize he’s delusional, only believing what he wants—what serves him and his purposes. For some reason, he still thinks that’s me.

  Well, it’s not.

  “Yes,” I say, feeling a lethal smile spread across my face as I steel myself and dig in my heels, ready for a fight, “I do.”

  “Avery,” he pleads, going to take a step toward me when my daddy makes his presence known at my side.

  “I believe it’s time for you to go,” he says sternly.

  “With all due respect, sir, this is between me and Avery.”

  “Not anymore,” Daddy says, coming to stand beside me. “I think it’d be wise of you to get back in that pick-up truck and get on out of here. I’d hate to have to call the cops the day after Christmas.” With his eyes glaring holes through Brant’s head, he sucks air through his teeth as he inhales deeply. “The way I see it, you’re trespassin’.”

  “Mr. Cole,” Brant starts, throwing on that Golden Boy charm.

  I hate to break it to him, but that ship has sailed.

  “I’m gonna give you to the count of three...one...” he pauses, giving Brant a chance to turn and run, but he just stands there.

  “Two.”

  Brant’s eyebrows lift to his hairline and he expels a humorless laugh, hands going up in the air as he turns around and climbs back in his truck.

  “The next time he shows his ass around here, I’ll shoot first and ask questions later.”

  Chapter 34

  Shaw

  Fuck slow.

  I know I’m the one who set that pace, but I only did it so Avery had time to make sure I’m what she wants and for me to make sure that what I thought I felt for her is real.

  Check all the fucking boxes.

  I know she wants me.

  I know she loves me.

  I know I’m better when I’m with her.

  I know I’m fucking head over heels in love with her.

  And after wearing a dull spot on this shiny floor of the arrivals gate, I know I’m done with slow.

  Due to winter weather up north, flights everywhere are delayed, including Avery’s. By the time she landed in Dallas to make her connection, most flights were being cancelled. Fuck that.

  I need Avery with me.

  Tonight.

  I spent half an hour on the phone, calling every damn airline until I found a flight for her to get on and paid for it. She can get credit for the return flight her mama had bought and use it on another trip home. The only other option was me driving my ass to Dallas to get my girl. One way or another, she’s going to be back in my arms tonight.

  And in my bed.

  Glancing down at my phone, I cringe when I realize the battery is at ten percent.

  Fuck.

  Today has been a shit show of epic proportions. Charlie got the flu, and according to his doctor, he’ll be out for the next week, at least. Kevin sprained his ankle playing basketball at the community center on Christmas Day. He’s working, but is fucking slow as molasses. So, we’re working with a busted-ass crew. The one night I need all hands on deck since I’m here waiting on Avery, everyone decides to fall apart.

  Fortunately, Sarah closed the cooking school this week, so she’s covering the bar with Paulie. The last time I talked to them everything was being handled. I trust them, but shit if I don’t hate it when I can’t be there.

  But I hate missing Avery more.

  It’s actually one way I knew I really fucking love her—when she and her happiness became more important than the bar or business. For the last few years, that bar has been my life and my lifeline. It’s given me purpose and something to wake up for every day. Avery changed all that.
>
  She’s now the reason.

  She’s my purpose.

  She’s what I want to wake up every morning for...and next to.

  Checking my phone has become a compulsive behavior, but I stuff it back into my pocket. I’m trying to save at least a little battery for when Avery calls me to let me know she’s landed. It’s not like I won’t know when she finally makes it. I’m standing right here by the exit. But I just need to hear her voice and know that she’s safe...sooner rather than later.

  “You’re waiting on someone special,” a sweet elderly voice says from beside me, pulling me out of my worry and frustration and causing me to look up. A pair of smiling eyes on a wrinkled-with-time face look up at me and the wistful look has me wanting to please her, so I nod.

  “Your wife?”

  I offer her a small smile, the term digging deep down into my gut, searching for the right emotion and finally settling on longing. For the first time in over five years, it doesn’t cause me grief.

  “Girlfriend?”

  Giving her a soft chuckle, I let out an exhausted sigh and run a hand down my face. “Would it sound crazy if I told you she’s more than a girlfriend, but not my wife?”

  “Soulmate,” the lady says with a knowing nod. “I’ve had two in my life...well, three, if you count Frank.” Her words are thoughtful as she loses focus and begins to speak softly. “John, my first husband, he died in Vietnam. I thought I’d never love again.” She sighs and looks back up at me. “But then a few years later, I met Bill, and we’ve been married for fifty years.”

  The beaming smile on her face is full of pride and love.

  “He’s not getting around so good these days, so he’s making laps around the airport until I tell him to pick me up. I’m waiting on our youngest daughter, she’s flying in from Dallas.”

  “That’s where my...my Avery,” I say, deciding that’s the only way I can correctly describe her, “that’s where she’s flying from. Well, Tulsa, originally...and then she was delayed in Dallas. Have you heard from your daughter?”

  “She called me an hour or so ago to say they were finally boarded on the plane, but they were waiting to be cleared for takeoff.”