by J. L. Jarvis
“But maybe she would.” Theo hastened to add, “I’m just guessing. But maybe her boyfriend—”
“Bryce.” Marco smirked.
“Right. Maybe Bryce has something to do with this. I mean, it’s kind of obvious, isn’t it? He’s probably jealous.”
The thought bothered Marco. “That’s a little possessive of him at this stage in the game, don’t you think?”
Theo used his soothing parental tone, which at the moment, irritated the heck out of Marco. “I don’t know. Wouldn’t you be? Look at it from his point of view. He’s an outsider. He meets Lydia, and he’s crazy about her. But she’s got this guy in her life, and they’re more than just friends.”
“Hold on. No one said that.”
Theo looked at him impatiently. “No one has to. He just has to see you two together.”
“If that is, in fact, the problem, then Lydia solved it. She made her choice, and Bryce won.”
Theo shook his head. “It shouldn’t have to be a contest.”
“Yeah? Tell that to Lydia.”
“Give it time. It’ll sort itself out.”
Marco mulled it over, but it just didn’t feel right. “Unless Bryce is some sort of control freak. That’s what they do.”
“You’ve lost me.” Theo squinted in that parental way that he had when he wanted to be supportive but couldn’t.
“I’m saying he could be one of those control freaks. One day they’re dating, and the next day she’s cut off ties to her family and friends, and he keeps her locked up at home and completely dependent on him.”
Theo leaned back and studied Marco. “Do you really think that’s what’s going on? For one thing, Lydia would never put up with that.”
“Good point, but still…”
“Marco, it’s an interesting theory, but it’s a little over the top.”
“So if that’s not the case, then she hates me.”
Theo winced. “Well, you know what they say.”
Marco rolled his eyes. “No, I don’t.”
Theo looked as though he was stating the obvious. “Occam’s razor. The simplest explanation is usually the right one.”
“Oh, great. Thanks. “
Theo’s eyes twinkled. “But in your case, it couldn’t be that.” He reached for Marco’s chin, but Marco swatted him away. “Look at that face. What’s not to love?”
“Me. Not that this has anything to do with love, because it doesn’t. We’re just talking hypotheticals, right?”
Marco looked too amused. “Oh, absolutely.”
“But if she hates me, I can understand why. Look at me! Sitting here wringing my hands like a…”
“Person who wrings their hands a lot?” Theo laughed. “Look, why don’t you go upstairs and take a little time for yourself. I’ll be fine here—until dinner.”
Marco thought for a moment then hopped off the stool. “I’m going out for a run.”
Theo grabbed a rag and started to wipe down the counter, then he looked up and called to Marco, “It’s the middle of December. Watch out for black ice!”
The road was clear enough, but Marco was rusty. He’d been busy working and studying, and exercise had fallen by the wayside, and he was paying for it. But that was okay. It was time to begin a new phase in his life. Spending less time with Lydia would mean more time for running and schoolwork. Maybe that was all he needed—more running and fewer emotions.
His life had shifted so gradually that he never noticed it coming, but one day, he woke up to discover he was dependent upon Lydia. It began simply. They had fun being together, so he didn’t think about how he looked forward to seeing her or how he missed her when something else got in the way. That was to be expected from friends who got along as well as they did, but they were always just that—friends. It wasn’t as though they were dating. But a few months passed, and there she was—part of his life. He hadn’t even seen it coming.
In a way, Lydia had done him a favor by severing ties. They’d become too close, and she must have known it. That was how people got hurt, although he always assumed that sort of pain was confined to a dating relationship, and emotional pain was what he sought to avoid above all.
When his mother had died, he was too young to know how to process his grief. Therapy helped him get through it. But the memory of that pain cemented his resolve to avoid feeling that way ever again. Since then, he had insulated himself from relationships that threatened to deepen.
It was never his aim to come across as a free-spirited guy who couldn’t be pinned down, but once he realized that was how people perceived him, he went with it. It worked. Women in his life had low expectations, so no one got hurt. He liked it that way—or he used to. One thing he did not like was being rejected. The last person he would have expected it from was Lydia. She’d caught him off guard. Although quiet, she knew what she wanted—and it wasn’t Marco. He inwardly groaned. It was Bryce.
As the days passed without seeing Marco, Lydia grew more accustomed to being without him. One evening, she sat beside Bryce as the curtain rose on a nearby college production of The Nutcracker. Marco would never have suggested it. She wasn’t even sure if Marco owned a suit. Bryce did. In fact, he owned several. She knew that because they’d already attended a theatrical version of A Christmas Carol and two Christmas parties at the homes of family friends, and they had dined at a couple of really nice restaurants. Although he never spoke about it, it was apparent he had money. That was Bryce—humble, kind, and generous.
That wasn’t to say Marco lacked any of those qualities. He might have lacked Bryce’s wealth, but he was every bit as humble, kind, and generous as Bryce. Since she’d known Marco, he had been there for her when she needed it most. He’d been a really good friend. Since she’d ended the friendship, Lydia had repeated that thought process so many times. This was the part where the guilt settled in. Cutting Marco off with no real explanation must have hurt him. Looking back, she’d been selfish in her handling of it, but continuing on the path their relationship was on would have been too painful to bear.
Godfather Drosselmeyer’s musical cue brought her back to the moment. Something had always been a little off about Drosselmeyer, but that was the beauty of Christmas. It cast a magical glow over the even the most cringeworthy things—like having anyone, even a jolly red-suited man, able to people when they’re sleeping. That was such an unsettling thought. She supposed it was largely a matter of who was doing the seeing and when. For instance, she had no objection to Marco climbing a tree and more or less flying through her window. It all depended on context.
Intermission came, and they sipped champagne while Bryce explained all about the family scrap-metal business, which was very successful, and Bryce would be the third generation to join it. Lydia admired them for having found something they all enjoyed doing. She hadn’t even managed to declare a major, while Bryce had his whole life planned out for him. Knowing there would be no surprises or big decisions to make was appealing. His path was steady and secure. Yet as she thought about a life without surprises, she wondered if that was the right path for her.
Lydia forgot all thoughts of her future as the pas de deux enveloped her in its rapture. She had been trying to ignore it, but the resemblance between the wavy dark-haired Nutcracker and Marco was inescapable. That, combined with the beauty of her favorite scene of the ballet, brought her as close to a state of euphoria as anything in the world could. In that blissful moment, Bryce chose to pull out a cellophane-wrapped cough drop and begin to open it, crinkle by crinkle. Without thinking, Lydia reflexively reached over and clamped her hand over his, where she held it until the scene was over.
The audience was still applauding as the curtain rose yet again for another well-deserved round of applause when Bryce got up and climbed over half a dozen laps until reaching the aisle, leaving Lydia to apologize her way down the row after him. As they stepped out into the street, it looked as though the same light snow from the first act were now drifting d
own to collect on their shoulders.
Bryce wasn’t angry or even annoyed. In fact, he didn’t seem to feel guilty at all. Nor did Lydia, because Bryce was the one in the wrong.
He sputtered a few words on their way to the car. “That was a little rude and uncalled for.”
“So was unwrapping candy in the middle of the ballet. And not just any part of the ballet—the most glorious scene in the ballet. In any ballet. That pas de deux is the most stunningly uplifting—soaring—” She stopped.
He had the most curious look on his face, as though he were observing a new zoo exhibit. Then he surprised her. “I’m sorry. I had no idea it meant so much to you.”
And to pretty much everyone sitting around us, but… whatever.
“Thank you for pointing that out. I won’t do it again.”
Lydia believed that he meant it. Even so, it was such an odd way to react. It was as though she had asked him to put the toilet seat down. What he’d done had affected other people. It was plainly inconsiderate for both the audience and the performers. But Bryce didn’t care one way or the other except for the fact that it had bothered Lydia. And for her, he was willing to adjust his behavior. She wasn’t quite sure how to take that. On the one hand, he was being considerate of her, but on the other hand, he was blissfully unaware of the people around him. In any event, the conflict was resolved.
For the rest of the evening, Lydia remained puzzled. They had weathered their first disagreement and come out unscathed. There was no drama, and that was a good thing. But no drama implied no emotion, and that troubled Lydia. With Marco, life was always dramatic but not in a negative way. They were the stars of their own ballet with no audience needed. Together, they plunged into each moment with laughter and zest. She couldn’t recall a dull moment with Marco. On the other hand, Bryce cared for her in a dutiful way. With him, she knew just where she stood. That gave her a sense of safety and security that, at times, she had lacked in her life.
It was with some astonishment that Lydia realized she had what she’d always wanted. All her life, she had been different, the girl with no father and a mother with no financial security. She might have gone without nonessentials like skiing and shopping with friends at the mall, but she’d always had everything she needed. The fact that her mother had managed that much was astounding. Still, at the edge of their lives was the ever-present threat that they had no cushion if something went wrong. On any day, the threat loomed that they might not have enough. Then where would we be? Lydia never knew the answer. She only knew the subtle sense of dread underlying their lives.
Bryce had no worries. Everything seemed to fall into place whenever she was with him. Even the candy wrapper incident had faded away by the time he walked her to her door.
“You look pretty tonight.” Then he kissed her—a light and chaste kiss, as always. “Good night.” And he left.
He could have been kissing his elderly aunt, with the passion his kisses conveyed. He was a proper gentleman, which was fine—more than fine. Nothing was wrong with taking things slowly and methodically, except that Lydia felt like there ought to be more. The problem was that she didn’t know. For that, she had only herself to blame. She had purposely avoided dating in high school, mainly because there hadn’t been anyone she felt that way about. But she was suddenly in a position in which she lacked vital experience that might have given her a better frame of reference where men were concerned. For instance, she didn’t mind kissing Bryce, but she couldn’t help but wonder if that was all there was to it—because she didn’t feel a thing.
Kissing and sex looked so great in the movies, but everything looked better on the screen. Real life couldn’t be anything like that. Yet the big screen didn’t come close to some aspects of real life. Nothing could compare to looking out from the harbor, not only to take in the changeable colors of the massive sea with its slow, powerful waves but also to be able to feel the sea air brush one’s face and breathe in the salt-and-lobster-laced scent of the docks. It was an all-encompassing thrill to feel part of the power of nature. If real life could be so much better, kissing and sex ought to be too.
Lydia sighed. She was expecting too much.
This is where it would be helpful to have girlfriends to talk with about it. But that window had closed. No way could she, at the ripe age of eighteen, admit to having never experienced anything more than a chaste kiss. People would think she was a freak. She could only assume that was as good as it got until proven otherwise.
Ten
Lydia went Christmas shopping for Bryce. Expectations were relatively low at that point in their relationship, but the choice still wasn’t easy for her. Cologne seemed a little too personal, and the hats, gloves, and scarves didn’t seem personal enough. Deciding felt like torture. She didn’t know what Bryce would want, so she settled on something safe—a necktie.
As she stared at one, someone with a familiar voice said, “Bryce strikes me as more of a bowtie kind of guy.”
She looked up to find Marco grinning at her. “I’ve never seen Bryce in a bowtie. Ever.”
“He should really consider it. It would be a good look for him.”
Lydia narrowed her eyes, but once she caught sight of the mischievous light in Marco’s, she couldn’t help but smile.
“When you get down to my name on your list…” He leaned over her phone. “Just keep scrolling. It’s way down there at the bottom.”
She shoved her phone into her pocket.
Marco didn’t even try to hide his amusement. “I’m not really a tie guy. Think rugged and manly.” He picked up a Christmas tie with a large reindeer. “Something more like this. See, if you press it right here, his nose lights up.”
“Oh, that’s stunning.”
“Right?” His grin faded, leaving a gentle smile. “And what about you? He patted his thigh. Come tell Santa what you’d like for Christmas.”
You. I’ve missed you.
A wistful look settled on his face. She had forgotten how his gaze warmed her. Actually, she remembered but had tried to forget. Then every time he looked at her, it was like the first time.
She did her best to lighten the mood. “If Santa brought me a tie like that, I’d be the happiest girl in the world.”
Marco made a poor attempt at a smile, which made it even harder for her to shrug off the charged silence that was settling between them.
At last, Marco asked, “How are you?”
“I’m sorry.” She couldn’t help blurting it. The apology had weighed upon her since she’d first caught sight of him. Not only had cutting things off so abruptly not helped her at all, but it had also hurt him.
Marco shook his head as though it were nothing, but the look in his eyes told a different story.
Lydia couldn’t think of what else to say other than to tell him she hadn’t wanted to see him because she cared for him too much. But she couldn’t tell him that. Although if he didn’t stop looking at her like that, she might lose her resolve.
A sales associate appeared out of nowhere. “May I help you?”
Startled, Lydia said, “Yes, would you ring this up, please?” She set down the tie she’d selected for Bryce then pulled out her debit card and handed it to the salesclerk.
Marco leaned his elbow on the counter. He was inches from her. It was all she could do to lift her eyes to meet his, knowing she might give away how being near him made her pulse race.
He said, “I miss having coffee.”
“Have you given it up?” She was proud of herself for lightening the mood.
“With you. I miss having coffee with you.”
So much for lightening the mood. Lydia reminded herself that it was just coffee, yet she could barely string words together to speak. She managed a nod.
The sales associate handed her a stylish holiday handle bag. She thanked him then turned to Marco. What now? “It was good seeing you? We’ll have to do this again sometime?”
“So… what I’m trying to ask i
s would you have coffee with me?”
“Now?” With the way her heart was pounding, anyone might’ve thought he had asked her for coffee and her hand in marriage. Saying yes felt as though she would be cheating on Bryce, which was ridiculous, but it was how she felt. Yet she said yes, surprising not only herself but, from the looks of him, Marco as well.
As they ordered their coffee, they were light and chatty like they’d always been together, but an undercurrent of tension ran through the conversation. A crowd filled the coffee shop, but a Christmas miracle brought them to a table just as a couple was leaving. They plopped down victoriously and exhaled. After their first sips, the mood took a turn.
The usually good-humored Marco sometimes turned into the other Marco, which even Lydia only glimpsed rarely. His eyes darkened. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Their parting had been Lydia’s decision.
“For being apart. For whatever I did to cause it.” He looked down and played with a corner of his napkin.
“You didn’t do anything.” Her face flushed. “Life got a little confusing. I needed some time to myself.”
“And now?”
Lydia had never seen Marco look so vulnerable. “Now? I…” Don’t know what to say. Yes, I want to spend time with you—all the time—because I’m in… trouble. The L-word I can’t let myself say kind of trouble.
“Are we… okay?”
Something inside Lydia’s brain clicked into emergency backup mode. Her face artificially brightened. “Yes! Absolutely! Like I said, you didn’t do anything wrong. I had some things to sort out in my life, and I’ve sorted them out. Everything’s good. I’ve touched base with my father, and we’re building something. Bryce and I couldn’t be better. And you and I are good friends—just like always.”
Marco nodded as though he wanted to believe her, but doubt lingered in his eyes. “Good. Well, that’s great.” Then Marco turned back into his old self again and grinned. “So if I see you around, you won’t be firing candy canes at me with a crossbow?”
