by Alicia Best
“I thought you were on my side, Hannah! I thought you said you would help me get custody of my son. Now you’re just going to listen to everything she says about me?”
“I am not on her side, Jackson!” she shouts back, poking a fingertip against my chest.
“Well, it doesn’t sound to me like you’re on mine!”
“To be honest, I’m not.” Her voice has quieted, becoming more level and firm, reminding me why I had so much faith in her to begin with.
Even though she doesn’t look much rested, there’s still such a strength in her. I’m not even sure if she can see it, but it startles me into silence. For a man who has never backed down from an argument, I can’t find any defense.
She takes a deep breath, leaning towards me.
“Jamie’s side is the one I’m on. I know how it feels to be caught between parents. You want to know why I don't spend the holidays with my family? It's because after they divorced when I was a little older than Jamie, I couldn’t see one without them badmouthing the other. It was so miserable that even though I adore Christmas, I spent holidays all on my own as soon as I could. Work filled that void for me. Do you want that for your son?”
Her eyes feel like they’re burning holes in me. “Do you want to push him away?”
Chapter 9
Hannah
Jackson slumps in his chair, resting his forehead on his hand. “You never mentioned your parents were divorced.”
“I wasn’t sure it was pertinent.”
He swallows hard, staring down at the table. “I don’t want that for Jamie. I don’t want him to feel like he has to choose between us. I don’t want him to pick up on the resentment that Gail and I have.”
“I know, which is why we have to do more to fix this. You can’t refuse to help Shady Piers just because you’re hurting. Don’t you see that will hurt Jamie in turn?” I lean over the corner of the table towards him, brushing my hand against his shoulder.
He glances up, his eyes vulnerable for the very first time. One of his hands moves towards mine, his fingers curling around my palm. He hangs onto me as if, for the first time in his life, he needs help staying on solid ground or else he might float away.
The shared touch lasts just long enough for me to miss a breath, before he releases me and stares down at the table.
“I don’t get you, Hannah.”
“What do you mean?”
He turns his face towards me and then away again. The movements are slow, like they take every bit of his stamina. “You must want this article of yours a lot. That’s why you’re being so supportive, that’s why you’re chasing Gail all over town and sharing your past with me––if that was even a true story.”
Does he actually think I would fabricate some story of my parents being divorced just to convince him to give up the tree for the town?
“Do you always expect the worst from people, Jackson?”
The question catches him off guard, and he flashes me a startled glance. The vulnerability in his face is fading, replaced again by a stubborn mask.
“Yes,” he mumbles, like it’s something to be proud of.
“Well, you shouldn't. I'm already close to the deadline of my article. I have no idea how I will be able to finish it now. My entire career has been on the line for this. My editor has been trying to get ahold of me all morning, but I've been dodging him so that I can be here with you."
He shrugs off my hand, which was still on his shoulder. “That’s a shame. Thanks for stopping by, but I’d prefer it if you left.”
But I’m not moving.
“That’s how you handle all of your troubles isn’t it, Jackson? You push them away and out the door so that you can stay safe in your four walls and never have to feel anything at all.”
“I’m not hiding. I didn't push Gail away. I’m fighting for my son; I want him in my life.”
“You’re fighting the wrong enemy. You and Gail can’t be at odds, you need to be a team even if you’re not together. Don’t you see how much Jamie needs that?”
His eyes gleam, newly armed with doubt and a need to protect his heart. “I’m doing the best that I can!”
“I know you are, but you can do better, and I can help you figure out how to do that, just like I can help Gail. I may not be a parent, but I was a child in Jamie’s shoes once. I know how I always wanted my parents to act, I know how it feels to be caught between them and think it’s my job to make them happy. It’s such a difficult place to be in.”
“Why are you willing to go this far for an article?” he questions, gazing at me with bewilderment.
I shake my head. “I’m not just doing it for my article or for the magazine. I don’t care anymore about whether or not I get the job. There’s something about this place and the people in it that just… It just has drawn me in. I hear what you said about it not being perfect, but it’s got something so beautiful at the heart of it. Just like you’ve got something beautiful, Jackson, if you would just be brave enough to show it.”
“There’s nothing about me that’s beautiful,” he grunts, turning his face away.
“You’re trying really hard to project that image, aren’t you? That’s why you’re laying off your employees and fighting with Gail and refusing to let the town have their trees. But you’re not that cold, you’re just hurting.”
“Stop,” he pleads, closing his eyes tightly.
“I see you, Jackson. I see that you’re desperate to hide your emotions because you want no one to see you hurting. I see that you love that boy more than yourself. I see that you’d do anything at all just to be with him. I see that by refusing to sell the trees, you’re just hoping you can pretend that Christmas will never come if Jamie isn’t here to share it with you.
“You can be the bigger person here, Jackson.”
I reach forward towards him, resting my hand on top of his. My heart pulses against my ribs, the thud echoing between my ears. He’s so stubborn, though it’s because he’s afraid of being hurt again, that’s for sure. Even though he pretends like it doesn’t hurt him to share Jamie, I think it must be much harder on him than he lets on.
His mouth forms a hard line, his fingers reaching toward my hand. He hangs onto me again, his face turning towards my hand. His stubbled chin is scratchy against the back of my fingers, and it makes a shiver roll up my spine.
I’ve had many heart-to-heart chats like this over the years. It comes with the territory of being a journalist who does interviews. But never once has it felt this raw or emotional. Never once have I felt an attachment on this level with anyone at all, interviewing or not.
“Jamie is the only person I’ve ever really loved.” He sighs before continuing, “Gail and I…we were best friends for a while, but never quite right for one another. I didn't know what love could even feel like before Jamie was born. That bond, that deep connection, it scares me to think that Gail may take it away. I understood when she told me she wanted a divorce. After Jamie was born and I felt that intense love for him, I knew Gail and I would never share something like that. Maybe that’s why I never begged for a real custody agreement; I didn't want to risk going to court and losing him. But now that might’ve cost me everything…”
“So, don’t be afraid anymore, Jackson. You can’t hole yourself up and pretend tomorrow isn't going to come.”
"I don't know what to do. I don't know what the right way to get my son back is. I've tried talking to Gail, but every time the conversation turns to Jamie, she gets all flustered and frustrated.”
“Don’t you see that you two are more alike than you might believe?”
He frowns, seeing the logic behind my words but not quite ready to accept it. Both parents have such a deep love for Jamie that it's almost tangible. That little boy is so fortunate to have parents that are so devoted to him.
“Are you going to ask me if I’m giving the town a tree?” His gruff words and his stare are so direct that they startle me.
I shak
e my head. “No. I will leave that up to you. I think I’ve laid my case out as much as I can for that.”
“And Jamie? What can we do about that? I don’t even know where to start. Gail and I don’t have the best communication in the world. She’s not even answering when I call now.”
“Leave that to me,” I promise him as he cups my hand to his cheek.
For a long moment, we just gaze at one another. There’s some sort of agreement that we’ve come to, I realize. I can’t yet see the depth of it, but I can feel it inside me. There’s a warmth to his touch now that is gentle, the shield protecting his heart has just begun to be lowered. I know enough about him to know I can’t push it, he will have to learn all on his own to trust me.
“But your article?” he says in a flash. “Didn't you say the deadline was close?”
“That doesn’t matter anymore,” I admit. “If I can’t write the article, then I won’t. What matters now is that you and Jamie, and even Gail, have the best Christmas of your lives.”
He stares intently at me, as though seeing me for the very first time.
Chapter 10
Jackson
Christmas Eve has arrived in Shady Piers along with a fresh blanket of snow and a bright blue sky. The sun shines brightly as I make my coffee, wandering from one corner of my kitchen to the other.
This is normally my favorite day of the year, looking forward to spending the evening with my son and all day tomorrow. I feel hollow today, like there are pieces of me missing that I can no longer find. Christmas was always the holiday that I enjoyed most while growing up, though not to the extent that I started cherishing it once Jamie was born. Before watching him experience Christmas with a day-long look of joy, I just viewed it as a day to kick back and be grateful. Since his birth, however, the holiday has taken up a new meaning. It’s become ingrained in me to a degree that I never thought possible.
I’m not sure what I will do with myself if I have to go through Christmas alone tomorrow. Though Christmas can be beautiful, it can also be difficult. I never would’ve guessed that as a child. I can just hope that Jamie never feels that way. But if Gail and I can’t put our differences aside, I have a feeling that he will know the hardship of the holiday sooner than I’d ever like.
With how much Hannah adores Christmas, I never would’ve expected her to say that it was a trying time in her life after her parents’ divorce. I don’t want Jamie to feel that way, but what can I do?
The last time I saw Hannah was the day before yesterday, when she came over that afternoon to speak to me about her concerns. Even though her candor stung, I could see her point.
I’d considered going into town yesterday to find her and talk more about how I could handle the situation with Gail, but I’d decided that it was best if I just kept to myself. Though I tried to convince myself that was because I didn't want to cause a stir in town and be pointed out as the Grinch refusing to give them a tree, it was also because I was afraid. I’m afraid of running into Gail and Jamie and Donny. I’m afraid of being so open with Hannah, even though she pulls it out of me so effortlessly.
She’s right, I am a man who hides. Am I even a man at all if that’s the case?
I’d waffled back and forth all night about whether or not to give up the tree. I’d even gotten up at three A.M. and stalked through my fields towards the tree that I’d planned on giving Shady Piers. I’d had an axe in my hand, ready to chop it down and call the town to come get it. It’d be the tallest one yet, stretching towards the sparkling stars overhead. Clumps of snow clung to its long limbs, glittering in the moonlight as it rested on needle-like leaves perfectly shaped and vivid green.
The lights strung by the people of the town would glitter like jewels while draped around it. Jamie would sneak close, as he always did, beaming brightly, his tiny hands clasped to his chest. The soft reds and greens of the twinkling bulbs would shimmer over his freckled face.
Could I deprive him of that, despite how hurt I am by his mother?
Hannah is right. Christmas is coming whether I like it or not, and if I refuse to give the tree, then it’s affecting Jamie and all the other kids in town. It’d never occurred to me that the other children would be just as devastated by not having the tree as the centerpiece of their holiday as Jamie would. I'm sure there are some who don’t have their own tree, whether that’s because they can’t afford it or because their home is too small. It’d be as cruel of me to withhold this tree from them as it is for Gail to withhold my son.
I’d heard over the radio yesterday morning that they had made the announcement to cancel the tree lighting. I hadn't expected to have such a reaction to hearing the news, but it was like a punch to the gut. The guilt was immediate and overwhelming. The two women heading the committee had tried to spin the announcement as something positive, saying that instead of the typical activity, they would have an assortment of other exciting things going on.
The local shops had all banded together and agreed to pitch in what they could in terms of food and activities and drinks to entertain the crowd and keep the tourists interested as long as possible. Whether or not that plan would work out, I had no idea. I know how important the annual tree lighting is to the people and the businesses, and I know that it’s my fault that it’s fallen through.
Why had I allowed my rage to blind me so much? It’s only because of Hannah that I see the truth now.
Still, I can’t bring myself to fix the problem that I have caused. I’m sure it’s too late. They already cancelled the lighting, and the people who came for it are likely already leaving. If I tried to tell the festival committee that I’d changed my mind, that might do more harm than good at this point.
I had done little in the last day. It’d seemed pointless to work in the fields and equally as pointless to plan for the holiday. In fact, I had done nothing but sit and stew and waffle back and forth on whether I was right or wrong in being stubborn.
I wanted this to be Gail’s fault, but I know now that I share the blame in how I reacted to her. Maybe this all could’ve gone in a better direction if I’d been able to contain myself. But how else is someone to react when they find out that the custody of their only child is in jeopardy?
It’s not just my problem that I think about though; Hannah has also been on my mind.
When I blink, I see her face embossed against the backs of my eyelids. I hear her laugh, the firmness of her words, the spirit in her look. There’s no one else like her in town, or even in the world, I don’t think.
I just can’t quite figure her out. She came for her article, but she didn’t leave the minute things got difficult. Even though she says it’s not the case, surely she could have been able to find some other little town to write about. Shady Piers can’t be that unique.
The questions I have about her seem to root deeper and deeper in my heart and my soul until she’s constantly on my mind. She’s a beautiful enigma, that’s for sure.
Why had she stayed?
Why am I letting her handle my issues for me? Why am I sitting by and letting the situation in town grow worse and worse? Am I that frozen by my own obstinacy?
I want to change. I want to show everyone that I’m not a selfish scrooge, but I don’t know what the first step in the right direction is.
Hannah is right, I’ve holed myself up here. The only thing keeping me in is my own selfish pride and my unwillingness to admit that I am wrong.
I’m not used to having this much time on my hands. I’ve always had something to do, whether that’s work or planning something with my son. But these last twenty-four hours have been miserable and infinite.
This isn’t how Christmas should be.
I can’t let it end this way. I thrust myself to my feet, rushing around my living room and trying to find my coat, and then the phone rings.
I answer it without looking to see who it is. “Hello?” I say, hoping that it’s Hannah on the other end.
I have to tell her how s
he’s inspired me to change. I have to prove to her that I am not stuck in my pain anymore.
“Um, hi. Jackson?” It’s a woman’s voice, floaty and light, but it isn’t Hannah. “This is Calla from the festival committee. We’ve been trying to get ahold of you.”
“Oh.” The disappointment is distinct.
“I was hoping you’d come into town as soon as you’re available so that we could all sit down and discuss the tree situation.”
“I was about to head in now. I’m almost ready.”
She breathes a sigh of relief. “Fantastic. We’re at the community center, and we’ll be expecting you. Thanks again, Jackson.”
My heart thuds against my ribs, each beat stronger and stronger than the last, and I know I’m now doing the right thing. Even if it’s too late, even if I can’t fix the problems I’ve caused, I have to put myself out there and at least try.
For my son, I will give Shady Piers the biggest, most beautiful tree that they have ever seen. It’ll make the perfect backdrop for Hannah’s article, if she can somehow squeeze it in by her deadline. I’d do anything I could to both give Jamie the Christmas he deserved and give Hannah the festival she wanted.
Had Hannah not stuck by me and refused to stop pushing me, I never would’ve come around. I would’ve stayed stuck in the oppressive mire of my anger. Even if I can’t celebrate Christmas with Jamie, at least I can make sure that this one part of his holiday is perfect.
Though the committee will have to come get the tree themselves, I’m sure that they can find a way to drag it into town. If I hurry, they should just be able to get it set up by nightfall.
As I slide into the truck, I shoot off a quick text to Trevor.
Gather up what staff is available and set up for the tree sale. Sorry. Really. Jackson
