by Eva Morian
The first thing Cherish was met with was a skeptical look which didn’t help. A car that old with little mileage concerned him. The price was also a red flag for a vehicle that supposedly didn’t have issues. Nevertheless, he wasn’t going to argue her on it, especially after the wonderful night they’d just experienced. He knew she wouldn’t take his cash and wanted to do it for herself. Once she had her mind set, she pushed and accomplished it.
“Alright. But only if I get to inspect the car and you listen to what I have to say before you buy it.” He said. By his tone, it was obvious that he trying to convince her it wasn’t a good idea. The last thing he wanted was for her to pay her hard-earned cash and get stuck with a piece of junk, “Deal?” he asked.
Cherish’s eyes lit up as she pumped her fist and hugged against his side, “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” she expressed happily. Even though it was just a car, a first one at that, the fact was this woman came from literally nothing. She was abandoned and on the verge on losing her daughter. Now, with the help from the guardian angel she was blessed with, she had her own job, people who didn’t take advantage of her, and soon she’d have her own set of wheels. The holiday vacation was just a bonus that she never saw coming but accepted willingly. Even though she knew that she’d have an uphill battle to become completely independent, she only felt there was no direction to go but up. Nothing could go wrong now.
Little did she know that progression was filled with many bumps in between.
November.
Four weeks after their outing, she pulled into the driveway on cool a November day in silence. She pressed the button on the garage door and waited for it to open. Her windows were down, and she propped her head up wearily. In four weeks, she gained said car and almost instantly regretted it. A week in the AC conked out, which was awful in the heat. If she turned the heater on in the morning before she drove around for a few minutes, the engine would cut off. There was a rattle whenever she went over fifty MPH and it had a slow oil drip.
Pulling in beside Simon’s car and over the drip pan, Cherish shut the door and closed the garage behind her. She pulled her keys out, unlocked the side door, and stepped inside.
The babies were beneath their gyms and their feet kicked along the little pianos as they reached up to grab the dangling animals. Jasmine blew several raspberries while Jr. grunted and used both feet to kick; a musician at heart.
Cherish looked at Simon, who was immersed in another episode of Paw Patrol, and tossed her keys in the bowl. He already knew she was on her way home the moment she pulled on the street from the rattling of her car. Still, it wasn’t enough to pull him from the intriguing little show. Would they save the turtles?
The first thing she did was yank the freezer open, take out the ice cream, and set it on the counter, “Hey.” She greeted stiffly. She took a bowl and rattled the drawers rougher than normal. Finding a scoop, she bumped her hip against the surface and dug out a double serving. Returning the ice cream to its place, she reached over the fridge and grabbed the bottle of bourbon. Even though she wasn’t legal, that didn’t stop her from drowning the dessert in liquor with a dull expression.
Simon finally realized how loud she was which clued him in. She had a bad day. Standing, he faced the kitchen and asked the infamous question, “Did you get it off?”
Cherish stopped pouring and spun the cap on the bottle, “Nope.” She answered. Turning her back to him, she returned the bottle where it belonged and sighed; she’d had enough. First the customers were absolute nightmares. She was cursed out, belittled, and to top it all off, the managers took her to the back and explained the whole protocol of black out days. From the end of September to the middle of January, all requested days off would be rejected. And every holiday had to be worked.
Cherish inhaled a deep breath and shut her eyes while her jaw clenched. The patience she had ran thin and it showed in the rigidity of her shoulders. She spun around and stared at him with an enraged gaze, a first for Simon, “I HATE my stupid fucking god damn job. NOT only do I have to work on Thanksgiving for fucking Black Friday, BUT I also can’t go ANYWHERE because I must work at 10 P.M. Christmas night and on New Year’s day! These fucking bastards, MY managers, made me feel like a GOD DAMN degenerate because I didn’t know this. I’M NEW. Of course, I don’t FUCKING know!” She exclaimed. She then grabbed the bowl, went without the spoon, and drank the melted cream and liquor straight from the source. Slamming it down, she licked the mustache from her lips and groaned, “FUCK THEM!” she said with a heavy groan.
Simon’s blue eyes went wide as he listened to every bit of frustration flung from her mouth. Finally, she wasn’t going to take it and would stand up for herself. Closing the space between them, he patted his chest, “Imagine I’m your manager Jeffery and hit me.” He said. Showing an example, he took her wrist and tossed her hand against him, “Just give me a good slap.”
Cherish looked from her hand to him and back, even though she knew it would feel incredible, she could never hurt him, “I’m not going to hit you, Simon.” She said with a sigh and placing both hands over her face.
Her sigh prompted him to get to what he really wanted to suggest, “Then quit. I’m not telling you to stay home again, but you can do better than Wal-Mart, way better. I’ve already told you that. We can get you a new job once we’re back from Colorado. Fuck them.” He expressed.
He was right.
She missed way too much with the kids while she slaved away at a place that didn’t respect her. She was too exhausted for Halloween and, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, working wasn’t the best thing for her. Especially since Jr. still relied on her to breastfeed. She drove that thing of a car back and forth on her hour lunch break to feed him which put a toll on the vehicle. She needed to relax and found the stress wasn’t worth missing their children as much as she did. Though, another seed of doubt clouded her judgement. Did she really want to take a step back and end up fully dependent on Simon once again?
Just as she was about to tell him that she couldn’t, Jr.’s grunts and Jasmine’s giggles caught her. She tilted her head around Simon and stared at their little joys on the floor. They’d grown so much and every day they changed or did something different which she missed. She raked her fingers through her hair with a grip and looked to Simon again. What was she doing other than wasting the time she had with her children? Time she would never get back. Even Simon cut down on his hours in the office just to be…with them.
Reaching up, Cherish pulled her nametag off and looked at it for a long moment before she flung it in the trash, “Fuck them.” She said with a straight face. She was done, and it showed. The corner of her mouth quirked as she wet her lips and waved him to follow, “Tell me what I missed with them today, please.” She expressed.
At the sound of her voice, both little heads turned in her direction and two, tiny smiles broke in an instant. Cherish listened to Simon as he animatedly told her what happened, and which spit up on who, all the while she greeted each baby with a barrage of kisses. Her independence could wait and her pride would heal, but deep down Cherish knew this was where she was supposed to be.
Chapter 12
December.
One magical and early morning, three days from Christmas, Cherish pulled into the driveway and parked in her spot one last time. There was a large, black rental van backed into the driveway with the trunk wide open along with the side door of the house. She shut the garage door from the outside and hurried towards the house with a quick pace.
Jack was bent over in the small trunk, "Get the big van, they said. That way we can all go to the airport together. Heaven forbid we had to take two separate vehicles!" He running a hand through his hair; exasperated. He stared at the luggage by his feet before he looked to the small trunk. The volume of bags wasn’t going to fit.
Cherish held onto a small package from Wal-Mart as she passed him by to enter the house, "Hey Jack!" She called.
He gazed over his shoulder t
o her and smiled, "That was quick!" He replied.
"I have to be quick when..." Slamming into Simon Sr.'s chest, Cherish held her hand out and stopped herself, "...sorry uh...dad." She said gingerly testing how he'd react. Once Thanksgiving had come and gone, Margaret insisted that Cherish approach them in the same manner Simon did. After all she was the mother figure of their grandkids and if she wanted to be closer, they welcomed her with open arms. Smiling at Simon Sr., she made her way around him and into a house that was complete chaos.
Miriam was running around and helping Margaret pack another item they didn't need. Simon stood there and argued with his mother as he brought down yet another set of bags from his bedroom. And the babies jumped away in their bouncers watching reruns of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. Miriam held a finger up, "Are you sure that TSA won't think a can opener is a weapon? I don’t think we’ll need it."
Margaret pressed a few fingers to her forehead, "But how do you know the cabin will have one? Then we'd have to travel in all the snow to get one!" She expressed.
Miriam glanced down at the opener in her hand and cleared her throat, "What exactly are we going to be eating out of a can?" She asked.
Cherish snickered to herself as she greeted both ladies, "I'm back! Excuse me." She said.
"Hey baby." Margaret said as watching her disappear into Simon's office.
"Hello, Cherish." Miriam replied.
Cherish shut the double doors behind her and set the white and blue package down on the desk. Knowing she would soon have to enter the fray with the others, she took the time out for herself. Since Emily's funeral, she had thought a lot about the people outside of the office. They weren't perfect, they had their problems, and they still had to heal from a terrible loss. But, that didn't stop them from accepting her and Jasmine with open arms. The skepticism she had at first had vanished once they all stepped up to the plate and took care of her when she needed it most; even if she had refused. She’d never had support and now she never wanted to let it go. Cherish loved every one of them; especially Simon. He was a father to her little girl. She wasn't lacking in love, Cherish wasn't struggling to raise her alone, and when he gazes at Jasmine, Cherish knew what a man in love looked like.
Inhaling a deep breath, she ran her fingertips under her eyes and caught the pesky tears before they fell. She chuckled while shaking her head. Holidays truly did make people emotional. Humming, she sat down behind Simon's desk and pulled the package closer. Running her finger beneath the flap, she reached in and pulled a stack of photos out. Starting with when the babies were born.
Simon, of course, complained about the disposable cameras and their grainy quality, Cherish found them to be useful in a pinch; nostalgic. Both babies were so small in his arms and he looked like a shell of who he was now. Sighing softly, she ran a finger across his face. The photos she flipped through weren't of importance. Their first bath, first outing, tummy time, and the look on Simon's face when Jr. projectile launched green poop across his father's leg.
Cherish broke into a light laugh before she sniffed again. She quickly wiped her eyes and looked across the room to see how large her children were now. They used their legs to kick themselves away from the floor and played with the colorful toys rattling with them. Wow. Six months old.
Inhaling a deep breath, she continued through the pictures. There was one Simon took of her. She was sprawled on the bed, fast asleep, with one shoe on, one in her hand dressed in her work uniform. When she should have been at work, he decided to take a picture. Halloween rounded next and the babies were dressed as a bee and a honeycomb. Jr.'s robust frame compared to Jasmine was far more noticeable. Her little girl was sweet as honey and her little boy was the busy bee who always poked her. Jr. loved his sister and it showed how much he bothered her every chance he could.
Flicking through, she finally reached Thanksgiving photos. She tilted her head to the side and paused on one. This was it. She and Simon were holding the kids. Jr. was patting the turkey, Simon was laughing at Cherish, and Jasmine stared ahead at the camera. It wasn’t posed or forced, but it showed the real happiness on Simon's face.
That's what she wanted.
Leaving it out from the pile, she wrapped a rubber band around the cluster before she picked up the photo. Opening a bottom drawer to his desk, she pulled out a wrapped frame with the word "Thankful" written on the bottom. She went to work in framing the photo while the others would be added to the album when they returned from the trip. She once again felt overwhelmed with good, wholesome feelings and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, "Shit." She whispered to herself with a laugh. Finishing, she flipped the frame over with a smile and stared at Simon.
Amidst the mess of everyone getting ready for their trip, Simon made a trail around the upper floor and double checked if they had everything they needed. He was beyond excited for the trip as he made his final descent down the stairs. Stepping onto the first floor, he saw the babies and watched as they bounced away unaware of the adventure they were about to embark on. Passing by both mothers to go outside, he stopped short when he saw a flit of motion in his office which led him towards the doors instead.
Spotting Cherish with a stack of photos, the look on her face was reminiscent and clear as day. He deduced they were from all the times she pulled out those shitty cameras. One picture though drew her attention the most and caused tears to form. The way she reacted moved him and he couldn’t stop staring at her. There was a deep, strong compulsion which wanted and needed to be closer to her; like a magnet.
He didn’t realize that the gossiping women and the fathers had entered the house and watched him in silence. Margaret slowly reached out her hand and grabbed a hold of her husband’s. Her grip tightened when her son knocked against the glass.
Simon gave Cherish a meaningful smile and a wave when she looked over. Opening the door, he stood in the doorway, “Do you mind if I come in?” he asked.
Cherish thought he was going to rush her, but he proved her wrong. Pausing, she laughed and rubbed her eyes again, "You're asking to come into your own office, how does that work?" She questioned.
He released a soft laugh, opened the door, stepped inside, and shut it behind him, “I’m not sure, but it does.” He answered. She watched him quietly as he approached and smiled at his profile. He leaned over his desk and got a look at what she was doing. His expression was gentle as he was struck with on of the sweet moments he realized they got to keep, “You were right. You know, about the cameras.” He admitted placing a hand on her shoulder and staring into her wet gaze. With a sigh, his thumb rubbed against her collarbone as he pulled the stack closer.
Cherish wiggled a finger in her ear before pulling it away, "Wait. Hold on. Did you just say that I was right? Santa does really exist." She teased.
Simon’s glance slowly narrowed while the corner of his mouth pulled upwards. He rolled his eyes with a laugh and dropped his hand, “Let’s get the kids in the van. We’re leaving soon, do you have everything?” he asked.
She glanced down at the picture frame and nodded. Standing, she passed him by, "Let me just put this where it belongs. I'll clean up your desk when we get back." She stated after her answer.
Leaving the office, Margaret hung off her husband and proceeded to whisper in his ear giving him a rather perverse grin. Simon stepped out and witnessed his parents’ rowdiness as he did quite often. Now he knew where he got this hands-on nature from and the need for human contact slowly killed him on the inside.
Miriam placed a hand over her face as she entered the house again, "Jesus, Joseph, and Mary! We haven't even gotten to the cabin and you're starting already!”
Cherish shook her head with a laugh because, unlike herself, they would have a very active holiday. The babies, having calmed down, watched their mother approach the tall shelving unit. She tilted her head looking at a photo of Emily. Her picture was lined with word Always. Smiling, she then placed their photo beside her and sighed, "Merry Christmas, Emily.
" She whispered.
Hearing a howl of laughter broke Cherish's attention. She quickly turned and grabbed the little boy who was far too eager to see her. His kicked his roly-poly legs and gripped onto her face. She ate against one of his hands and he squealed out with joy.
Simon appeared behind Cherish and dipped down to pick Jasmine up from her bouncy seat. He rested her against his chest while she immediately clung to him and pushed her face on his shirt. Out of pure instinct, her kissed against her headband with a father’s love. Carrying his daughter, he went to the shelf and saw the framed picture beside his late wife’s. To him, it was perfect.
Turning off the television and lights, the family made sure the doors were locked before leaving. Setting the alarm, Cherish rushed out of the house with everyone else. Soon the babies were strapped in their car seats, the grandparents sat in the two back rows with one child between each while Cherish and Simon took the front.
There was an air of bubbling anticipation within.
Miriam dug into her bag, "Does everyone have their chewing gum to pop our ears when we’re in the air?" She asked.
Jack rubbed along his forehead, "Are you sure we shouldn't have just rented a private plane? That way we could have it all to ourselves with the kids?" He questioned.
Margaret looked back at him and arched an eyebrow, "Do you know how much money that would have been? We are going to check our bags like everyone else!" She exclaimed.
Simon Sr. knew he shouldn’t suggest spending money while his wife was around, but he had to put it out there, “It’s about two-thousand dollars an hour? So, about eight-thousand dollars.” He answered. He was about to say “That’s do-able” when he saw his wife glare at him as though she predicted the words that had yet to leave his mouth. It was enough to shut him up, “Yeah, probably too much.” He muttered.
Cherish arched an eyebrow at Simon with the GPS in her hands. Private plane and renting a large cabin in the woods. That all sounded like problems she wished she had. She narrowed her eyes at him with a little smirk.
