What If

by Taryn Steele

  “I rocked that challenge, Mom. I didn’t drop one balloon,” he tells me excitedly.

  The smile on his face does wonders for my heart.

  A knock at the door halts our conversation momentarily.

  “Keep stirring, buddy,” I instruct as I make my way to the door see who's knocking. I hope it’s Fed Ex because I’ve been waiting for this InstaPot thing I saw on TV, and I’m dying to see if I can really cook a frozen chicken in twelve minutes. Swinging open the door I stare up in to a recognizable face but it doesn’t immediately come to me. Why does he look so familiar? He’s tall. He has at least a good six inches on my five foot six frame, with beautiful brown hair with dark blue eyes, and a million dollar smile.

  “Hi, my name is Colson Baker. I hope I have the right house. Is this the home of Christopher Jenkins?”

  “That’s why you look so familiar. Wait, oh wow, but umm…”

  Before I can finish asking the dozens of questions in my head he interjects, “Christopher wrote me a letter about his love of surfing, the lesson his father took him to and his father passing away. I read all of my fan mail. I just wish I had read this letter sooner. I know it was quite a few months ago so I did the best I could and flew in early for the surfing competition I’m judging. I was hoping I could spend some time with him. He is my biggest fan for his age group, that I know for sure.”

  I hear footsteps quickly charging toward me.

  “Holy sh…”

  “Christopher Jenkins! Don’t you dare,” I say, quickly turning to him now at my side as I cover his mouth with my hand.

  “I am at the right house,” the celebrity surfer says chuckling at Christopher’s expense.

  “This is so cool! I can’t believe you’re at my house. We’re making tacos for dinner. Are you hungry? Come inside,” Christopher says, pulling him in by his arm.

  Colson turns his head to me looking for direction as Christopher continues to pull him further into the house. I can’t help but chuckle at the excitement coming from Christopher but just hearing that he wrote a complete stranger about Dominic’s passing is tearing my heart apart at the very same time. Chills instantly course through my body at the thought of him writing that letter. Immediately I cross my arms over my torso hoping to stop the chill. I give Colson a small nod with a smile letting him know I am fine with him staying for dinner.

  Closing the door behind me I make my way back in to the kitchen while I listen to Christopher and Colson making small talk on surfing and the Colson Baker fan club. In a few short minutes I have the table set and ready for dinner.

  “Umm, Mr. Baker, we have water, beer, or iced tea. What can I get you to drink?” I nervously ask still reeling from having a celebrity in my home.

  “Mrs. Jenkins, please call me Cole, and water would be great. Thank you.”

  “Okay, and please call me Abby,” I reply with a snicker.

  Dinner conversations run smoothly, and Christopher could not stop smiling the entire time. To my surprise Cole is easy to talk to. I guess I expected to be more intimidated by a celebrity from California. I had no idea he’s originally from Florida but of course Christopher did.

  Cole and Christopher both help me clean up from dinner. As soon as we are done Christopher asks me if it’s okay if he shows Cole his bedroom and all his surfing memorabilia.

  “Yes that’s fine for a few minutes but we can’t occupy his entire evening. I’m sure he’s very busy. Okay, buddy?”

  Cole smiles and interjects, “I came right over from the airport so I’m pretty tired but I promise after you show me your cool collection of stuff I’ll talk to your mom about the two of us hanging out again this week if it’s okay with her.”

  What should have been a few minutes turned in to an hour of Christopher and Cole chatting it up in his room, and I’m finally walking Cole outside to his car while Christopher gets ready for bed.

  “I apologize for just showing up like this. I only had an address from the letters. I couldn’t locate a telephone number to call first,” Cole admits.

  “Oh, it’s fine. It was a complete shock, but seeing Christopher’s excitement was truly heartwarming.”

  “I adore his fan mail. I was completely devastated reading his letter his father’s death. My only regret is reading it so late and not being able to answer it sooner. I was hoping with your permission I could spend some time with him and teach him to surf.”

  “This is the first time in a long time Chris has smiled from ear to ear. Thank you.”

  Cole continues to talk about wanting to help in any way possible while he is here. He gives me his cell phone number and where he is staying while he’s here in Florida. In return I give him our home number and my cell phone number to in his contacts on his phone and tell him I’ll be in touch. I intentionally did not give the green light on teaching Chris to surf. I just can’t. Not yet anyway.

  Making my way back into the house I find Christopher under the covers in his bed, eyes closed with what I can only hope is finally a look of peace across his face.

  Another morning comes when I regret signing up to be on Dr. D-bag Pierce’s surgery services but it looks good to have on my charts. Listening to him go on and on about his date last night with a set of twins, blonde twins. He’s such a pig. I’m beyond thankful this is only a forty-five minute procedure.

  Once the surgery is done, the patient is closed up and off to recovery. I make my rounds and all of my patients are where they should be. My stomach is growling, and it’s just now that I realize I haven’t eaten anything yet this morning. I check with with Nurse Alice at the head nurse’s station to let her know I’m going to the cafeteria to take a break.

  I purchase a bottle of water and a chocolate chip Cliff bar, find a table where I can sit alone and surf through my emails and maybe even Facebook for a couple of minutes on my phone. Engrossed in the hilarious video of puppies falling over themselves I didn’t notice the minor commotion of female nurses at the entrance to the cafeteria. When I look up I notice Colson Baker walking in directly toward my table.

  “Hey, Abby.”

  “Mr. Baker. Umm, what are you doing here?” I ask in a puzzled manner.

  “Please call me Cole, and I went to visit some of the kids in the burn unit and the ICU,” he explains.

  “Oh, wow! That is so nice of you, thank you.”

  Pulling out a chair for himself, Cole hunches over the table a bit, interlaces his fingers taking a deep breath.

  “Christopher mentioned you were a nurse here. I asked the front desk nurse who looks remarkably like Betty White by the way, where I could find you. I was hoping I could talk to you about taking Christopher out surfing.”

  Immediately I break eye contact and look down at my phone. I can’t do this. I can’t have this conversation right now. I can’t lose Christopher too. He’s all I have left. Isn’t losing my brother and my husband enough? I can’t handle anymore anguish. I don’t want to suffer anymore.

  “I’m sorry, Cole. I can’t do this right now,” I tell him pushing myself away from the table standing up to walk away.

  Cole jolts out of his seat just as abruptly stopping me in my tracks. He ever so gently catches my elbow in his hands to hold me in place.

  “Abby, I’m sorry. You’re right, I should have never approached you at work. I just didn’t want to have the conversation in front of Christopher incase you objected, which I was afraid you would.”

  “You knew I would object? How? Why?” I asked completely lost at his claim.

  Reaching around me, Cole pulls my chair out a bit more, his arm out-reached silently asking me to sit back down. With a tight lipped grin I comply, and he immediately follows.

  “One of the letters Christopher sent me he mentions how he was trying his hardest to hate surfing, for you. He briefly mentioned your brother’s passing in a surfing accident when you were a teenager. You have my most sincere condolences.”

  “Oh my God, I feel horrible. What have I done?” I cov
er my face with my hands in embarrassment.

  I feel like the worst mother in the world right now.

  “Abby, your apprehension is to be expected. I hope to God I am not overstepping any lines here with this conversation. I just wanted to let you know, and also hope I could somehow convince you otherwise. Maybe if you came with us and watched. I promise to start off insanely slow, and of course I would never leave his side,” Cole presses.

  Looking every where but directly at Cole, fidgeting in my seat, unease and anxiety are coming over me. Have I become that person, that mom? Even after my brother died my parents didn’t stop me from pursuing any interest. Yes, I saw the hesitation in their eyes, all over their face, but they never said no. Have I pushed things to the extreme? Did I completely fuck up my own child because of my extreme parenting? This is the impact I caused, I created. Christopher has tried to force himself to hate surfing because of me.

  And the worst mother of the year award for two-thousand and eighteen goes to Mrs. Abigail Jenkins. I’m such a fuck up.

  “Well I feel like a shitty mother. I fucked up, Cole, didn’t I?”

  “No you didn’t, Abby. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to protect your child, the people you love most. How about we get together this weekend? I’m busy for the next two days. I promised my brother Nathan I would help him cut down some trees. He owns his own business and is short on help.”

  I attempt to hold back a giggle when I remember a silly joke Christopher said last week he read from his iPad but Cole sees the ridiculous look on my face and looks at my quizzically.

  “It’s nothing, just remembering a silly joke Chris told me last week about trees,” I tell him.

  “Let’s hear it,” he tells me playfully.

  “Okay, why was the tree drooling?” I ask, staring waiting for a response. He sits, pondering, looking around the room, for what, I don’t know. The answer isn’t in this room. He shrugs coming up with nothing so I tell him. “It was a dogwood.”

  Cole drops his head laughing. “That was good. I’ll have to tell my brother that one later.”

  I follow in the laughter. I’m not even sure why. It’s not even a funny joke, cute sure, but I don’t know if it’s funny to endure the laughter. Maybe it’s just that Cole’s laughter is contagious, or the fact that I haven’t laughed in almost a year and it’s a nice change. Am I allowed to be laughing? I instantly feel guilty and my mood completely changes. I dart from my chair again, tell Cole I will wait to hear from him, and speedily return to my rounds leaving him at the table alone.

  When opportunity knocks, open the door.

  Happiness is not an easy path to travel. There will be many different obstacles to get in the way.

  I took the chance of finding Abby at the hospital while I was already there visiting kids and I did. I hate that I had to tell her about some of the things Christopher said in his letters but it was a last resort. I didn’t want him to lose out on the opportunity to surf. He’s already lost his father, that’s enough.

  I like Abby. She’s easy to talk to. She’s very easy to read. She has quite a few tells when she's nervous. She squirms in her seat, she fidgets with her fingers, or she plays with her long, dark locks of hair. Man, she has gorgeous hair. It’s thick, long and wavy, and matches perfectly with her tanned skin.

  I shake my head to get the thoughts of Abby out of my head. What the fuck is wrong with me? This isn’t why I’m here. I’m not here to hook up with a chick. My dick is doing all the thinking right now. It’s been a long time. Why couldn’t she be ugly, mean, and rude? Nope, not my kind of luck. She’s beautiful, kind, and sweet.

  Dammit.

  Stepping out onto my deck for some fresh air and clearing my head isn’t working out to be such a great idea. It’s driving me crazier. My cell phone starts ringing pulling me from all thoughts of Abby. I look at the screen and see that it’s my brother Nate.

  “Nate, what’s up, bro?”

  “Dude, can you help me with a tree job? It was a last minute request but I could use an extra set of hands. I’ll buy you dinner, beer included.”

  “Yeah man. I need to get out of here. Text me the address to meet you at,” I tell him.

  I need to clear my head.

  I’m not a big fan of grocery shopping but if I have a shopping list I can get in and get out in about twenty minutes. That’s not the case today. Not only do I have Christopher with me but also Olivia. This girl throws just as much stuff in my carriage as my ten year old. I swear she’s just like the sister I never had, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  As Christopher navigates the shopping cart I tell him to take a right to hit the last aisle for cheese. Just as I’m about to remind him to look first so he doesn’t hit anyone with the carriage it’s too late.

  “Christopher!” I exclaim in frustration.

  “Sorry Cole!” I hear Christopher shout.

  “Hey, buddy! How’s it going?”

  I round the corner and see Cole standing behind a shopping cart covered in what appears to be sweat and sawdust and I can’t help but chuckle at the sight. He looks like he had a pillow fight with a tree.

  “Mom, look who’s here!” Christopher’s still shouting with excitement.

  “I see that. Nice to see you again. Cole, this is my best friend Olivia. Olivia, this is Colson Baker. The man who is runner up to God in Christopher’s eyes of the surfing world,” I say jokingly.

  Seconds into the introduction another sweat and sawdust covered man comes up from behind Cole tossing the world’s largest jar of peanut butter into Cole’s grocery cart.

  “Oh hey, everyone, this is my brother Nate and his life partner apparently, Jif the peanut butter jar. Damn bro, you sure you got enough there?” Cole announces, and I can’t help but giggle because it truly is a big ass jar of peanut butter.

  Olivia all but knocks me over reaching out her hand to Nate introducing herself. Cole follows with individual introductions with myself and Christopher. I have a feeling Cole went in to detail previously about myself and Christopher because Nate’s demeanor quickly changed; not in a bad way but in a more gentle way.

  “Hey Cole, we’re making homemade pizza for dinner tonight. Want to come over?” Christopher requests.

  Before I can chime in Olivia jumps in adding, “Nate, you should come too,” adding a flip of her gorgeous blonde locks and batting her eyelashes. This is quite the comical grocery shopping trip.

  Feeling put on the spot since it’s my house I give in and decide to speak up. “Dinner is at six o’clock sharp, and I have a strict no sawdust rule in my house,” I add with a smile.

  The guys laugh and agree to be at the house on time and freshly showered. We part ways and now I feel the pressure to pick up the house as soon as I get home since guests are coming over. The three of us make our way to the self checkout line since it’s faster and Chris loves scanning the items.

  “That Colson Baker is cute, but damn, his brother is fine as hell. Those long light brown locks and green eyes were calling to me, Abby. I need to get my ass home to shave and pick out my best clothes,” Olivia confesses. I have zero reaction to her because this is her, this is Olivia. She saw something she wanted and she’s going to show off her assets in hopes of a bid. This is going to be an entertaining pizza night.

  Back at home chopping up a combination of iceberg and romaine lettuce for a tasty salad to go with the pizza I realize I forgot to grab a green pepper while at the store. I shout to Christopher who’s playing video games in his room that I’m running next door to Mrs. Humphrey’s to ask for a pepper from her vegetable garden and I’ll be right back.

  Knocking on Mrs. H’s back door I let myself in seeing through the screen door that she’s in her kitchen connected to the back.

  “Whatever it is you are cooking smells delectable,” I tell her walking in.

  “Thank you, it’s my homemade pesto sauce. I’ll make sure to get you a jar when they are all done.” Turning to face me I notic
e a beam across her face. “Abby, don’t look cute in that sunflower sundress? Are you going out tonight?”

  “Oh, well thank you. No, we’re having pizza and salad with friends. I just came to ask if I could steal a green pepper out of your garden.”

  “Of course you can, dear, you know you don’t have to ask. I’ll bring over a jar of this pesto tomorrow once I have it perfected,” she tells me with a grin.

  “Thanks, Mrs. H.”

  As soon as I’m walking back in the house through the back door Olivia is walking in the front door. From head to toe she is the epitome of an alluring Barbie doll. She added a few soft curls to her golden blonde hair, dark red lipstick with a dark red, spaghetti strap dress with a shark bite hem. She looks stunning and she knows it. I commend her self esteem.

  Thirty minutes later the table is set and I hear Cole and Nate telling us about their shopping experience at the liquor store, and the argument as to whether they should purchase wine or beer. Who drinks wine with pizza? As much as I love wine I require an ice cold beer with my pizza.

  In his element and genuine glory, Christopher controls most of the dinner conversation discussing the beach and surfing. Cole’s brother Nate even chimes in a few times about his recreational surfing excursions when he was a teen. Olivia is all ears any time he speaks and I can’t help but sit back and watch the entertainment in front of me.

  “So, what’s it like surfing the perfect wave?” Olivia asks.

  Ugh, if she starts taking lessons to grab Nate’s attention I might vomit.

  “The best waves are always your own. It’s an ominous feeling, paddling out across still waters, knowing that if you’re not perceptive, or get snagged in the wrong place, you could get clobbered. If a wave appears still to me but the face is straight up and the lip is feathering in front of me and never seemed to end, it is screaming unmakable to me. I am going to render it makable, even though I know it will probably send me a mile up in the air. It’s the crazy mess of feelings it leaves you inside that make it perfect and totally worth it,” Cole explains.