by Nella Tyler
The alcohol ran through me, warming the blood in my veins and loosening my arms and shoulders so I could move along with the music as I walked out onto the dancefloor. Jason lifted his chin in my direction, a big grin on his face as Andrea danced in front of him, her hair flying and arms pumping. They both looked slightly drunk, but like they were having the time of their lives. I watched them for a moment, a small smile on my face, before turning my attention to the rest of the floor.
There were plenty of cute girls dancing in tight clothes, smiles on their faces and eyes fuzzy with booze the way mine probably were. The music was less annoying now that I was floating on a stream of anxiety-loosening tequila. I just had to pick one of the many women not already dancing with another man and see if she wanted to dance. A few looked my way, smiling invitingly, but I couldn’t bring myself to pick one to engage. Jason and Andrea had drifted to the other side of the dancefloor, leaving me alone.
Even with the drinks, my unease was rising, and I couldn’t shake the thoughts of Sophia that invaded my skull all at once, like an ambush. I imagined her here, dancing and smiling at me the way a few of the women had already done. I wondered if Sophia still used the same body washes and shampoos, leaving her smelling sugar sweet whenever she got into my dad’s car with me. That brought up memories of the two of us curled up under a blanket on her mom’s couch while we watched movies and shared popcorn. When Sophia got tired, she’d rest her head on my shoulder. Did she still have that flower ring dried in a box somewhere in her closet?
The cascade of bittersweet memories kept coming. It was all too much.
I backed away from the dancefloor and rushed from the club. I burst out onto the street, breathing heavily, feeling like a man possessed. And I was, in a way. My past refused to lie still. It kept bleeding into my present, invading everything I did all day, every day.
I went around the club and took refuge in a darkened alley just off the street. I needed a minute to collect my thoughts before I caught a taxi home. I’d have to think of an excuse to tell Jason later when he asked what the hell had happened to me. He was too busy with Andrea right now to really notice I was gone. It was embarrassing to keep feeling this way, and it was only getting worse as time went on, as though some hidden chamber packed full of memories of Sophia had come unlocked inside me, releasing everything all at once. I felt like I was drowning.
I turned to the wall and kicked it as hard as I could, once, twice, three times, grunting with the pain that blossomed in my ankle. Shit. That was probably going to swell if I didn’t get some ice on it.
I limped to the opposite wall, collapsing against it and breathing heavily, my heartbeat swooshing in my ears. She was still there in the center of my mind, stubbornly refusing to go away. I was at a complete loss. I felt worse now than I had when she completely excised me from her life, like a tumor she didn’t want to risk leaving be, lest it metastasize.
That was the worst part about all of this: I had no idea why she’d turned her back on me. I only knew that I was never going to be a part of her life again. She’d pushed me out in the cold, and I was still feeling the chill on my skin. I hadn’t been able to warm up since it’d happened, not really. I had to find a way to get over her, honestly and truly. I couldn’t live like this anymore.
Addotec closed for the two weeks around Christmas and New Year’s, yet another bonus they offered on top of the reimbursement of the cost of moving across the country, killer pay, three additional weeks of paid vacation, and excellent health insurance. If I didn’t end up needing to go home for the holiday, I’d find place to go that would allow me to clear my head for the first time since Sophia had unceremoniously jettisoned me from her life.
I’d spent so much of the last almost three years pretending I’d gotten over what had happened, pushing it all down deep where I couldn’t see it. But it was all bubbling to the surface again with a vengeance. I didn’t know why. I only knew that I needed to find a way to clear my head and maybe finding some warm, tropical location to spend the holiday season while I worked through the worst of my anxiety would help. Hell, not like it would hurt.
I left the alley and started walking in the direction of my apartment. I needed some exercise to clear my head, and my ankle didn’t seem quite as bad off as I’d first thought. I was only about ten minutes away by cab. A nice brisk walk would help get my nerves under control enough to plan what I was going to do next. As much as I wanted to come up with a plan immediately for how I’d spend the Christmas break, I’d just have to wait until tomorrow. But just the promise of a plan looming in the very near future was enough to loosen the tension in my chest. I was going to get through all of this. I just had to try.
Sophia
The Next Morning, Mid December
I sipped my coffee as I answered emails at my desk. I had a routine that I performed every morning at work. Greeting the night guards on their way out as I was coming in just after seven thirty. Brewing coffee in the shared breakroom, making enough for Willem, who always needed it more than I did and raved at how much better it tasted in a French press than a regular machine, even after all these months of working side by side. Then I sat down at my desk with a fresh mug of my favorite caffeinated beverage, drinking it black the way I had since high school, and went through my emails before moving onto whatever business was in store for me that day.
Today was Willem’s first day back after his week on vacation. He said he always liked to take a holiday before Christmas, just to keep himself sane.
I was still in my office answering the last email — from Ms. Eller, I was tickled to see, who had kept in touch after our tour — when Willem came in.
“Good morning, Sophia,” he said, greeting me warmly the way he did every morning. He was a trim man in his late fifties, with a full head of dark blond hair he wore clipped short around his ears and the back of his head, but slicked back on top, or wild and wavy when he was at home. His dark blue eyes were kind, the wrinkles around them only noticeable when he smiled, which was all the time. He was a genuinely nice guy and smart as all get out. I found myself learning something new from him daily, and it was a pleasure to work with him.
But if I started getting too star struck by the sheer massiveness of his experience, he told the perfect joke to get me laughing again, bringing me right out of it. The first thing he told me when I arrived that first day of my internship was to never call him Mr. Andresen. He was Willem, plain and simple. Now I couldn’t think of him any other way. He’d become a kind of combination father figure and friend.
He didn’t seem to mind inviting me over to his beautiful apartment overlooking Central Park — his wife Diane was a successful attorney at one of the city’s leading law firms handling criminal defense — for dinner during the week or lunch over the weekends. The conversations that took place around that table were riveting. He’d even invited me to spend the weekend with them at their house upstate. They were great people, and their kids were just as amazing. His daughter Caroline was Lacey’s age and his son Michael was a year older than I was.
“Morning, Willem. How was your trip?” I looked away from my computer to smile up at him. He was dressed casually in a pair of slacks and a sweater, his long limbs surprisingly muscled for a man his age. I liked to imagine that my father was this type of man — easy in his own skin and quick to smile. I’d been old enough to have clear memories of Dad, but I hadn’t had the luxury of knowing him as an adult the way I knew Willem.
He sat down across from me, nursing his steaming mug of coffee as he crossed his leg, resting his ankle on the opposite knee. He put creamer in his, just enough to turn it a slightly lighter shade of brown. “It was successful. We won’t have any trouble getting the Matisse paintings we had our eyes on for the Impressionist exhibition.”
“That’s great!” I said, giving him an even wider grin this time. “You must have really laid it on thick while you were over there.”
We’d had some trouble with one
of the smaller galleries in France that housed a few of the paintings we were hoping to showcase here in January, several by Matisse and one by Monet. The rest had been secured from several museums around the globe, but it had taken a special trip for Willem to get the last few we wanted. We’d never worked with the smaller gallery before, so it was a bit up in the air. I’d never doubted him for a moment, though I’d done what he asked and come up with four alternate paintings that we could pursue if he came home unsuccessful.
“I had to drink a lot of wine over there to manage this deal,” he said, giving me an over the top expression like it had been a real nightmare eating French cuisine and washing it down with some of the best wine in the world.
I laughed at him. I’d missed him a lot more than I’d realized. He hadn’t gone on a trip this long since I started at the museum.
“If you’re looking for sympathy, you’ve come to the wrong place!” I said.
He grinned, showing off his crooked front teeth. Those were endearing, too. I liked that he wasn’t perfect to look at. It added to his overall charm. Not that he wasn’t an attractive man — before I’d found out he was married, I imagined trying to set him up with my mother the next time she visited — but the quirky parts of him were what I found the most endearing. His crooked teeth, bushy eyebrows, and the scar on his cheek from a motorcycle accident he’d gotten into as a teenager.
“The point is, our show will go on as planned,” he said.
“That’s excellent news,” I replied. “How was the cruise through the Bahamas?”
He shrugged. “It was nice, I suppose. So much focused nothingness started to grate on us after about the third day. We couldn’t wait to get back to land and plug back in. I swear Diane must’ve had fifty missed calls and over a hundred emails, and everyone knew she’d be off the grid for four or five days.”
I giggled at the thought of them racing through emails and missed calls the minute they pulled back into the port. They were definitely two people who could not relax no matter what, even on a cruise ship specifically designed to maximize the relaxation of its guests. It was probably why they were so successful in their jobs. I could see myself being that way, too…except without the spouse if the current trend continued.
“I owe you some congratulatory remarks,” Willem said, eyeing me closely. But he took a sip of his coffee instead of elaborating.
I let my brows come together into a questioning expression as I crossed my legs at the knee and tucked my feet under the chair. “What do you mean?”
“I reached out to the Lennoxes, the Jotkoffs, and dear Ms. Eller before I flew back to the States. They all raved about how well you treated them and how knowledgeable you were about the museum and all its pieces. Ms. Eller seemed particularly taken with you, raving about your professionalism and insisting I give you a raise.”
I burst out laughing. “Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
“So…am I getting that raise?”
Now it was his turn to laugh, that deep chuckle that started in his chest and only rose to the level of his throat, like he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to let the full power of his amusement loose into the room. “You are funny, kiddo.”
“It was worth a try,” I said with a shrug.
We sipped our coffees again, just enjoying the silence and each other’s company. I’d worked closely with older professors in college, but it had never felt as easy as things did between Willem and me. It really was a shame he was married. He’d be perfect for Mom, despite the fact that they lived in two drastically different states. Oh, and Mom was now getting married to the father of my childhood best friend. There was that, too. Shit.
“Any word on possible donations?” I had a feeling it was a little too soon for anyone to make up their mind on an amount, but I couldn’t help but ask.
Ms. Eller had all but come out and told me that she was going to give the museum money, in between trying to set me up with every eligible and successful young bachelor she knew, including her grandson, who was my age — she’d even brought up pictures of him on her cell. I had to admit, he was cute, with her same bright blue eyes and wry smile. It was rude to ask outright about the money during our email exchanges, so I didn’t, but I was dying to know. We needed as many generous donors as we could get.
“Not yet,” Willem said, lifting a shaggy eyebrow because I knew better. “But I have a good feeling about it. We might get a gift from all three of them. If so, I’ll think seriously about that raise.”
I grinned at the thought of that, though I didn’t have anything to complain about in that department. I was already making more than I’d dared to dream about when I chose my major, everyone telling me if I didn’t apply to grad school, I might as well resign myself to a position at McDonald’s, and not as manager.
“What will the money go towards, when we get it?” I asked.
His grin changed. It was my use of the word when instead of if. “We have several possible purchases in the works if we can come up with the necessary funds.” He pulled out his iPhone and showed me a few pictures he’d taken while in Paris. He’d managed to get all over town in his short visit.
“We also have a few projects we could fund here in the museum to bring in more interest.” They’d hosted an artist in residence program before I arrived, which had created so much hype, a few of the other museums in the city had followed suit, doing the same kind of thing to stir up media attention, which always translated to an increase in visits from the general public. Willem had ideas on top of ideas, he just needed the money to roll them out. I loved watching the man’s mind work.
“Have you decided what you’re doing for the holidays?” he asked. “Diane is trying to put together a guest list for Christmas Day.”
I slumped my shoulders, all traces of my excitement disappearing on the spot. Now was as good a time as any to let him know about the days I’d need to take off to fly home. “Yeah, about that…”
He lifted his eyebrows again.
“I hate to ask for time off so soon after starting here.”
“But you’re going to, right?” he said with a grin.
“My mom is getting married over the holidays.” I shook my head as his smile went from teasing to warm. “On Christmas Day, actually. It was a complete surprise. I wasn’t planning to go home, but now I really need to. She’s only inviting my sister and me.”
“What a lovely surprise,” he said, dark eyes sparkling. They changed with the rise and fall of his moods. I’d never seen eyes so expressive before. Well, maybe once before. But now wasn’t the time to think about Carter’s unique shade of hazel that could turn green if he was happy enough or deep amber when he was upset.
“It came as a complete shock. I hadn’t even known she was dating anyone. But she seems happy, so I’m happy for her. And, I’d like to be there if it won’t be too hard on you without me here.” I half hoped he’d tell me I couldn’t have the time, but there was no way he would do that. I could tell him I’d booked tickets for a holiday concert across the country, and he’d probably give me a few days off.
He waved a big hand, scrunching his face up like it was no big deal. I knew how much he relied on me already. It was a great source of personal pride that he had as much confidence in me as he did. I never wanted to fall from his good graces or disappoint him in any way. I’d been dreading this conversation, though I was sure he would give me the time off. I just hated to ask.
“You should spend the holidays with your mother,” he said, his deep voice lowering to stay just between us, though we were the only ones back in this corner of the museum at this time in the morning. “I thought so before you told me about this surprise wedding. Just think, a stepfather for Christmas.” He smiled teasingly again, those blue eyes shining like the twin mood rings they were.
Now that he’d put it that way, I realized I would be getting a stepbrother for Christmas, too, which was all kinds of awkward.
; I had no idea how I was going to live through the week and a half at home, but I’d figure it out. Maybe there was a way I could avoid Carter all the way up to the day of the wedding. There was always the chance that he couldn’t get the time off of wherever he worked out in California. Mom knew all kinds of details about Carter’s life all of a sudden and felt the need to tell me every single one of them. It was frustrating. But I’d been in worse jams before, hadn’t I?
“You did well the other day with the VIPs,” Willem said. “You deserve a break. We’ll miss you at Christmas dinner, but you can come over and tell us all about the wedding after you get back to the city.”
I nodded and gave him my best smile, though my stomach was doing that thing where it sank through the damned floor. I realized how much I’d been depending on him to tell me there was no way the museum could function without me here through the holidays, then I’d be able to avoid this impending train wreck without Mom getting upset at me.
Now I had no choice but to go home and face the skeletons lurking in my closet. Out of all the men Mom could have chosen in Madison, why did it have to be Carter’s father?
Carter
A Week Later, Mid December
One Week until the Wedding
I flew right into Dane County Regional airport, landing in the early afternoon in the middle of a light snowstorm. I’d booked a rental car right after securing my flight the week before, just a few short minutes after getting off the phone with Dad, who’d been over the moon about the latest developments in his life. I was still in shock, but had managed make my travel arrangements, work the rest of the week, board a plane, and fly back to my hometown.
