A Wedding for Christmas_Sweet Holiday Romance

by Rachelle Ayala

  She takes the barn coat. “Thanks, and I really didn’t mean anything. I was so thankful Tyler found me a place to live.”

  I give her a stern glare and nod, letting her know I’m not fooled. She could be happy and hug him, and even kiss him on the cheek, but the lips is beyond friendship.

  “Tyler’s a good man and I’m marrying him on Christmas Day. We’d like you to attend the wedding. Would you like to come?”

  She looks away from me as she puts on my coat. “You’re too kind. I’ll let you know how I feel.”

  Tyler hands Arman back to me. “I’m stopping by the drugstore to get Zulu some supplies. Is there anything you need?”

  Part of me doesn’t want to let him go off with Zulu to set up her household at Sawyer’s place, but they both assured me the kiss was nothing, and I can’t be jealous of a homeless woman with bruises all over her face.

  “We may be low on diaper wipes,” I reply. “If Zulu needs to borrow anything else, let me know.”

  “She can buy what she needs,” Tyler says. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

  He seems to want to get away fast, and if my intuition is any good, he looks guilty. But I’m not the type to fly off the handle, so I let it go—for now.

  “Sure. Let me get the kids to bed. Bree had a good time at the mall.”

  Tyler bends and gives Bree a kiss. “I’ll be back for your bedtime story. Got to get my friend settled.”

  “Is Zulu your girlfriend?” Bree asks. “Matt asked me to be his girlfriend today.”

  Tyler rubs Bree’s head. “Zulu’s only a friend, just like Matt is only a friend. Got it?”

  He puts his hand on Zulu’s shoulder and guides her to the door. After they leave, I go upstairs to change Arman’s diaper, and Bree comes to the bedroom with her arms crossed, looking angry.

  “I’m still a girl and so is Zulu.”

  “Yes, you are. And?”

  “If I’m a girl and I’m a friend, that means I’m a girlfriend. Matt said so.”

  “Go wash up and get ready for bed.” I unstrap Arman’s diaper tabs. It’s been a rough day, and I’m not in the mood to argue semantics. Hopefully once the wedding is over, Bree and Matt will forget about their little arrangement.

  “Ack!” I jump back, but I’m not fast enough.

  A golden arc of urine hits me in the eye as Arman wiggles and kicks his fat little legs.

  ~ Tyler ~

  “You’re going to be okay here by yourself?” Tyler unlocked the door to Sawyer’s apartment to let Zulu in. “He has everything you need. He says you can use his bed, eat anything in his cupboards, and of course, we can go grocery shopping tomorrow.”

  “I can use the money you gave me,” Zulu said. “I’ll pay it all back, and you don’t have to give me fifty every day.”

  “I want you off the streets.” Tyler set the shopping bag from the drugstore on the sofa. “Tomorrow morning, we’re going to the VA.”

  “I’m sorry about Kelly walking in on us. I owe you so much, I didn’t know how to pay you back.”

  “You pay me back by getting well.” Tyler grabbed her arms and stared into her eyes. “I’ll be back in the morning. Promise me you’ll be here.”

  “Promise.” She averted her gaze and bit her lip. “Can’t you stay with me? I don’t like being alone. Usually I’m with at least two other women.”

  Tyler tapped on the heavy steel door. “This place is safe. No one is getting in. No one out there knows you’re staying here instead of Sawyer.”

  “It’s not that.” Zulu opened the coat closet and hung up Kelly’s coat. “It’s the nightmares. It’s waking up and not knowing where I am. Usually Doris or Suzanne ground me. They hold me down until the spell passes. They remind me where I am and who I’m with.”

  “You’re not to allow Doris or Suzanne into this apartment.” Tyler went to the window and peeked from the mini-blinds. “Sawyer specifically said he’s only letting you stay here.”

  “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t trust Doris or Suzanne, either.” Zulu walked to the kitchen and opened the pantry door. “They might steal everything that isn’t bolted down.”

  It sure looked like she was casing Sawyer’s joint, or maybe she was checking to see if anyone was hiding in the apartment.

  “You’ll be fine.” Tyler followed Zulu to Sawyer’s bedroom where she slid open the closet door and then to the bathroom where she pulled the shower curtain aside. It was clear Zulu was frightened of an unfamiliar place.

  “I really need someone to stay with me.” Zulu hugged her arms and shuddered after clearing the bedroom and bathroom.

  He understood exactly how she felt. Back when he had lucid flashbacks, he’d wake up confused and frightened, ready to take up arms or run and hide.

  It had been Sawyer’s big arms that had held him back from running amok, giving him enough time to recover his senses. Once, Sawyer even stun-gunned him to prevent him from causing more trouble at a public place. Sawyer was one of the fortunate veterans who’d never suffered post traumatic stress disorder. Sawyer had been his bedrock.

  Tyler wandered to the stereo and tuned the radio to a soft rock station. Music and human voices would help, as would sleeping with a light on.

  “Tyler? I know I’m a burden to you and Kelly,” Zulu said. She wrapped herself with a couch throw and laid her head on a pillow. “I think I’ll be okay. It’s just that when the nightmares start, I can’t seem to wake up, and it leaves me too frightened to fall back asleep again.”

  “Tomorrow, we’ll apply for a residential rehab program with the VA. Then you won’t be alone. There are places that serve women only.” Tyler joined her on the couch and pulled her feet over his lap. “As for therapy, they’ll teach you techniques like self-hypnosis and learning to recognize you’re in a dream to help you break out of it.”

  “Could you show me? I don’t have any drugs on me. No sleeping pills, nothing. That thug took everything.”

  “It’s not that simple, but we can start with meditation.” Tyler took her hand and pulled her to a sitting position. “I’m not an expert, but emptying my mind helps calm me. Before I learned, I was always on edge, in a constant state of shock, like something was about to explode at any minute.”

  “That’s how I feel.” She leaned against him and put her head on his shoulder. “Jittery, scared, always afraid someone will jump on me.”

  “It’s post traumatic stress disorder.” He rubbed her back, loosening the knots of tension between her shoulder blades. “You feel like you’ll never be relaxed again. Never be able to let down your guard. You’re hyperaware of your environment and you interpret everything as a threat.”

  “Keep doing that.” She purred against his neck. “That feels good. You’re the only one I can trust. You saved my life. You’re the only one who cared.”

  “It wasn’t just me.” Tyler continued to rub circles on her back. “The entire platoon was in on the rescue.”

  “Yes, but they all retreated with the hostages they rescued. You stayed behind until you found me. You almost got left behind.”

  “I wasn’t leaving without you.”

  “Maybe you should have.” She pushed away from his hands. “Maybe it would have been better if you left me there.”

  Tyler’s head spun, and he blinked in astonishment. She was giving him whiplash with the way she swung from being thankful to resentful.

  “Don’t say that,” he said. “You’re here now. You’re going to get well.”

  He stared at her as she tried to regain composure. It took a few minutes before her breathing slowed and she stopped shaking.

  “Do you believe I can get well?” Her eyes were watery when they met his.

  “Yes. I believe in you. You’re a strong woman. Ever since the first time I met you, I believed in you.” He shook his head at the fond memory. “You challenged all of us to arm wrestling and even when you got beat, you kept challenging.”

  “It was a good way to meet guys. That summer was
the last good time I had.” She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep, shuddering breath. “We were so young. So innocent. So idealistic. Remember when we snuck sparklers into the barracks for July fourth?”

  “Oh yeah, and we lit them in the commissary.” A chuckle rolled from his throat. “I’ll never forget your face when the CO strolled by sniffing like a bomb detecting dog.”

  Zulu’s sparkler hadn’t gone out, and she’d hurriedly stubbed it between her breasts to put it out.

  “I’ve got the burn to remember that, too.” She laughed, pulling up her shirt.

  “You don’t have to show me.” Tyler held his hand out, but she wasn’t wearing a bra, and he couldn’t take his eyes off the network of scars criss-crossing her breasts and belly.

  The burn mark, by contrast, had faded into a tiny circular patch.

  Zulu pulled her shirt down and bent forward, covering her face. “You didn’t used to look at me with disgust.”

  “It’s not disgust.” Tyler put his hand on her back. “It’s shock and horror. It hurts me what happened to you.”

  She snorted. “It hurt me worst. And to think that summer I was so concerned about holding onto my virginity.”

  He wrapped his arm around her firmly. “I’m glad you held onto it.”

  “I’m not.” Her shoulders shook as she gasped, drawing in a long, wet breath. “Because I wish you’d shown me how good it could have been before they brutally ripped me to shreds.”

  “Zulu.” Her name came out as a guttural cry and he wrapped her in his arms. There was nothing he could say or do. Nothing he could undo. No clock he could rewind. No warning he could have given her. And definitely, no kiss he could bestow upon her to patch up the missed opportunities.

  “And … now … you’re mar-marrying some … someone else.” She caught one sob after another. “I was nev-never good e-enough … for you.”

  That wasn’t true. Not at all. She was a Muslim, and he was a Christian. They were going to be deployed in Afghanistan, and if he’d dated her, she would be censured by her family. Unfortunately, her family turned against her anyway for interfering with her younger sister’s marriage.

  “You are more than good enough for me.” He rocked her and caressed her. “But it wasn’t the right time or place. We both agreed.”

  They had done nothing more than kiss and flirt. They’d covered their feelings in front of their cohorts. Not even Sawyer had seen the hidden glances, the covert touches, the shared dreams of a future after Afghanistan.

  “Now, I’m too ruined. Too damaged. Too late.” She moaned into his chest, wiping her tears on his shirt. “Why didn’t you kill me? Why didn’t you leave me to die?”

  “Because I loved you.” He lifted her chin and locked his gaze to her watery green-gray eyes. “I believed in you. You have heart—a big beautiful heart. You wanted to free women from oppression. You wanted to create a better Afghanistan. You loved your people, and there’s still so much for you to do.”

  “You don’t understand.” She shook her head slowly, her eyes overwhelmed with tears. “I am nothing but a whore.”

  “You are a survivor.” He held firmly onto her chin, not letting her avert her face. “You aren’t the only sex slave in the world. There are girls younger than you being held right now. Tortured, beaten, stoned, and abused.”

  “It doesn’t make me feel any better.” She wailed. Her fingernails dug deep gouges down her face. “Why are men so cruel to women? Why must women suffer when men go to war?”

  “I can’t answer that, but I believe God has a purpose for you.” Tyler grabbed her hands to stop the self-mutilation. “Once you get well, you can go back there and rescue sex slaves. Or help them heal and recover. There are underground networks of former soldiers and operatives going in there to free these missing women and girls.”

  “Is that where Sawyer went?” Zulu lifted her face and latched onto Tyler’s shirt. “Tell me so I can join him. I will rip and tear up those monsters. I will make them pay.”

  “To do that, you need to get well first.” Tyler clutched her forearms. “You need to be able to focus, to conquer your flashbacks, to channel your fear and anxiety. Now, you see why I want you to go to therapy? To stay here until you’re well. To stop hooking and doing drugs. You will be able to help other women who suffer from panic attacks, depression, nightmares, and suicidal thoughts.”

  “But I want to die.” Her face crumbled and she shook all over. “I’m too weak.”

  “You’re strong, Zulu. Otherwise you wouldn’t be still alive.”

  “I can’t do it without you. I came to San Francisco hoping to find you, but I’m too late.”

  “What we had that summer was sweet.” Tyler’s voice cracked at the memories. “But it was nipped at the bud. Life goes on like a river that forks in the wilderness. One goes one way, the other goes another. Along the way, we traveled different paths, met different people, saw different sights. We meet now, in the sea, but we can never go back to that fork in the stream.”

  She held his hand against her cheek and let the tears run over his fingers. “I’d rather float in the sea with you now, than try to swim upstream to the place we parted. I just wish my path hadn’t been so disastrous.”

  “Mine wasn’t a picnic, either. But I know you’ll heal, and when you do, you will be able to help so many others.”

  She opened her eyes and blinked through her tears. “You have such faith in me.”

  “I do believe in you. You should rest and get well.” He wrapped her in the blanket and picked her up. Holding her close, he went into Sawyer’s bedroom and placed Zulu on the bed. He pulled back the covers and tucked her in, smoothing her hair from her face.

  “Thanks, Tyler. Thanks for everything.” She yawned despite still shaking from her crying bout.

  He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “I’m glad I found you, and I’ll be right outside. I promise.”

  19

  ~ Kelly ~

  “What do you mean you can’t come home?” I glance into Bree and Arman’s room while I speak to Tyler on the phone. “Bree’s waiting for you to read her a bedtime story.”

  “Put her on Facetime,” Tyler says. We switch the call to video chat and I can see Tyler on the couch. “Zulu gets nightmares and she’s afraid of being alone.”

  “I understand, but how long are you going to be her babysitter?” I can’t help the twinge of jealousy nagging at my gut. Something doesn’t seem right about their story of being friends only. She would never have kissed him if they hadn’t kissed before.

  “I’m getting her to the VA tomorrow and having a case worker assigned. There might be openings at a rehab facility. She’s agreed to go.” Tyler speaks in a low voice and glances off to the side at a closed door.

  “That’s progress.” My voice sounds snide. “How’d you get her to comply? Last time I spoke to her, she wanted nothing to do with facilities and feeling locked up.”

  “She wants to go back to Afghanistan to free other sex slaves, and she knows she has to be well to do that. Off drugs, healthy, and psychologically fit.”

  “Let’s hope she sticks to the plan.” I walk into the children’s bedroom. “I have to walk the dog, but here’s Bree. She can shine the phone camera on her book for you.”

  I give my phone to Bree and straighten Arman’s blanket before marching out of the room. My stomach is squirrely and steam blows out my nose. Why am I so upset? I should be happy Zulu is getting the help she needs.

  But face it. I’m jealous, because I can’t help the nagging feeling there’s more between Tyler and Zulu than mere friendship and being comrades in arms.

  “Come on, Brownie.” I take the leash off the hook and stuff a plastic bag into my pocket. Once again, I’m stuck with walking the dog while Tyler is out doing a mission of mercy.

  Brownie and I jaunt down the sidewalk toward Golden Gate Park. We walk by the fire station, and he spots his friend, a Dalmatian named Cinder.

  Both dogs
let out happy barks, tails wagging, and I greet the fire chief, Connor Hart, Cinder’s owner. Secretly, I’m glad I won’t have to walk in the park alone.

  “How’s the wedding coming along?” Connor asks.

  “Don’t ask.” I blow a puff of air and roll my eyes. “I’m trying not to stress about it, but we’re missing a best man and a father of the bride.”

  “Eh, don’t need any men at the wedding but the groom,” Connor says, laughing.

  “Maybe the groom’s optional, too.” I settle into a brisk pace by his side. “With my luck, he’ll Facetime his own wedding.”

  “He’ll be there,” Connor says. “At least you only have one wedding in the family. We have two, and both of my sisters are like cats climbing walls.”

  Ella is friends with his youngest sister, Melisa Hart, and is going to be a bridesmaid for her New Year’s Eve wedding. I heard the other sister is a fashion designer, and she hasn’t finished her gown.

  “Are they both getting married on the same day?”

  “That’s the problem. Jenna’s older and she wants to get married on Valentine’s Day, since that’s when she got together with Larry, but Melisa’s fiancé is a doctor and hence high tax bracket, so he wants to get that extra deduction before the year’s end.”

  “There’s no rule the elder sister has to marry first, is there?” We cross the street and head into the park.

  “None at all. Our eldest sister is already married, but she and her husband have gone off to the woods. We’re hoping they get their problems resolved before Christmas.” Connor stands aside to let Cinder do her thing.

  I avert my eyes and hope Brownie will take a hint and do his thing, but he seems more interested in sniffing the fence posts and then marking them.

  “Sounds like your family’s in for an exciting Christmas, too.”

  “Yep. My wife and I are the two low drama folks. We’re good with whatever happens.” Connor scoops up the poop with his hand inside the plastic bag, then turns it inside out and ties a knot.