“That wasn’t very…complete.”
“No. In her defense, I could hear David yelling at her already. He’s going to lose his mind when he finds out she went to Boston. Should I tell him about the drugs?”
Blake considered his answer carefully. “She wasn’t buying them, so she could blame it on Eli. And then they’ll probably forbid her from seeing him.” Could Eli lose his girlfriend because of tonight’s fiasco? He seemed pretty taken with the girl. Blake hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
Tallia lowered her voice. “Maybe I just won’t tell them that part. She didn’t do any drugs. Who knows? Maybe she would have turned it down when push came to shove. I’m sure she’s had other opportunities to try drugs and hasn’t.”
“She seems like a good kid. If she wasn’t cautious before, I think tonight taught her a lesson. I doubt she’ll be sneaking off to Boston again anytime soon.”
“That’s true. And of course, if what you say is true, her car is dead. Just one more consequence of stupid decisions.”
“Will her parents punish her?”
“Definitely. If I know my brother, he’ll ground her until she graduates. Dyann will get him to back off, and they’ll meet somewhere in the middle. But she’ll definitely be grounded.”
“Will they blame Eli?”
Tallia shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know.” She turned to face him. “So did you two work anything out tonight?”
“I don’t know. His moods are…mercurial. We had a nice talk about his mother getting remarried and…other stuff.” Remembering the rest of his conversation with Eli, his smile faded. “And then he lost his mind because I was nice to the guys in the tow truck. He acted like I was suddenly involved in some publicity stunt. It was weird.”
“He thinks you’re planning to move back to LA.”
Blake stole a glance in her direction.
She was chewing her bottom lip.
“Did Kelsey tell you that?”
“Yeah. She said Eli thinks you moved here to try to clean up your image.”
“So he thinks…” Blake’s heart raced, causing both his right hand and his left ankle to throb worse. “He thinks I moved here for PR reasons?”
“And that you’re going to move back.”
“Hm.” He fought the rising anger.
“I don’t mean to pry or anything, but do you have plans to move back to California any time soon?”
“I decided when I moved here that I’d stay until Eli graduates. But…the kid hates me. The only thing he’s impressed with is my ability to fight. And that was just…I don’t know. Stupid. I wanted to walk away, but…” He let his voice trail off.
“That guy swung at you. You had to defend yourself.”
“I guess. But...” Blake shuddered at what could have happened. “I got into a fistfight in front of my son. Maybe…I don’t know. Maybe he’s better off without me. I think I’m about to throw in the towel.”
“With Eli?”
He nodded.
“Don’t give up now! You’re so close.”
“I’m not close. He hates me. After everything tonight, he told me to go back to Hollywood—at the top of his lungs. I think he really wants me to leave.”
Tallia kept her voice low, matching his whispered tone. “You’re wrong. He wants you to stay, but he’s afraid you’re going to leave. He’s afraid that if he trusts you, you’ll let him down. And if you leave now, that’s exactly what’ll happen.”
Tallia hardly knew him, but she understood something he’d never admitted aloud. Hadn’t he felt the same way about his own father? Watching him drive away in his big rig to be gone for days, sometimes weeks at a time, always explaining away his decisions with excuses like “bills” and “the mortgage” and, as he got older, “those stupid acting lessons.”
Blake knew his father could have stayed if he’d wanted to. Other fathers managed it.
His dad had missed his first play and his first leading role. He hadn’t been there when Blake was awarded the black belt in Tae Kwon Do. His father rushed into the auditorium five minutes after he’d walked across the stage to receive his high school diploma. And when his dad had finally given up the long hauls and stayed home to be with the family, it was too late.
Blake had moved away.
Blake’s parents were still married and had worked through all the issues they’d carried through the years, but he and his father would never be close. Though he’d hated the fact his father had never being around, Blake had done the same thing to his own son. How could he expect anything more from Eli?
“You’re bleeding again.” Tallia’s voice interrupted his dark thoughts.
He looked down and sure enough, a bead of blood was shimmering in the vibration of the steering wheel. He started to wipe it on his jeans.
“No, don’t.” She grabbed her purse and began rifling through it. She pulled out lipstick, checkbook, comb, tissue and, remarkably, a small bandage.
“Give it to me.”
He obeyed.
She dabbed at the blood before pressing the tissue against it. She laid a hand on top of his. Her hands were icy and felt soothing against his throbbing knuckles.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“Oh, sorry. My hands are probably freezing.” She pulled her hand away, but he caught her fingers.
“Don’t. My knuckles are throbbing.”
He relished the feel of her hands, which were so much smaller than his. She had pretty hands with thin fingers and short, filed, unpolished, nails. They were beautiful.
Not nearly enough time had passed before pulsing pain in his knuckle made him realize her hands were no longer cold. Now they were holding hands for no reason. Though he didn’t want to, he slid his hand out of hers.
“Let me see it,” she said.
He happily rested his hand in hers again.
“I think it stopped bleeding.” She lifted the tissue. “Let me just get the bandage on there.”
He let her stretch the bandage around his finger before resting his right hand back on the steering wheel.
Colder now than he’d felt all night, he turned up the heat.
The time, the events of the last few hours, and the darkness closed in on him. Exhaustion tingled across his skin and encouraged him to close his eyes. He yawned, stretched, and glanced at her.
She sat up as they crossed into New Hampshire.
The first light of dawn fought its way through the thick clouds and the landscape drifted from stark black and white to varying degrees of gray.
“It’s morning,” Tallia said. “Christmas Eve.”
His eyes opened a little wider. “Right. Christmas. I’d almost forgotten.”
“Are you done with your shopping?”
“Yes. Weeks ago,” he said. “You?”
“Oh yeah, but I finished yesterday. Seems like a year ago, now. I still have some wrapping to do.”
“I finished wrapping last week.”
“You wrap your own presents?” Her voice sounded skeptical and he grinned.
“What else do I have to do?” he asked.
“What’d you get Eli?”
“Lots of little things. There’re a bunch of gifts under the tree.” Blake checked in the mirror again.
The kids hadn’t moved.
Still, he kept his voice low and leaned closer to Tallia. “I bought him a car.”
“Ooh, exciting,” she whispered. “When are you going to give it to him?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“Perfect,” she said.
“Yeah, but he’s going to be grounded until his mom gets home and who knows what she’ll do when she finds out about tonight. But I’ll let him drive it—as long as I’m with him.” He smirked, knowing how much Eli would love that. “How about you?” he asked. “What are you hoping Santa brings you?”
“Oh, I always get clothes from David and Dyann. My parents used to buy me a nice gift every year, but since I quit my teaching job they give
me a bunch of gift cards. I guess they figure I can’t afford to splurge on anything—which is true. Last year I got cards from a couple of restaurants, my favorite coffee shop, and a nice department store. Oh, and they gave me a gift certificate for two tickets to a local theater. I took Kelsey to see The Music Man last summer.”
“Was it good?”
“Very good. How about you? What are you hoping for this Christmas?”
Blake glanced in the rearview mirror again and looked at his sixteen-year-old son. “There’s only one thing I want and all the money in the world can’t buy it.”
Tallia didn’t say anything.
Blake searched for a less depressing subject. “I was hoping for a white Christmas, though. Last Christmas I was still in rehab. I spent the whole day fantasizing about what this Christmas would be like. I knew I’d be here. I had this picture in my mind, kind of like a Currier and Ives plate. I pictured Eli and me having a snowball fight and drinking hot chocolate and watching a Christmas movie.”
“Which movie?”
“Oh, that was vague. Sometimes it was It’s a Wonderful Life, or maybe The Santa Clause.” He smiled. “Although now, I think Eli would like Die Hard.”
“That’s not a Christmas movie!”
“Sure it is. Bruce just wants to have a nice Christmas with his family and he’ll take out all the terrorists to make it happen.”
“I see. Lots of family values.”
Blake chuckled. “I thought Eli would like it. I actually rented it, along with some more…traditional choices.” His smile faded. “Not that he’ll want to watch any of them with me.”
“He might surprise you,” Tallia said.
“You’re right, of course.” He said, though she wasn’t.
They drove in silence.
Someone must have been hauling sand up ahead. He watched it scatter in front of his headlights. He looked through the gray morning, but no trucks were in sight. Still…
“Look!” Tallia sat up straighter and pointed out the front window.
Blake followed the direction of her hand and saw the sand again. Only it wasn’t sand. He blinked and focused his sleepy eyes. “Is that…?”
“Snow!” She’d said it too loudly, and she lowered her voice when she continued. “It’s snowing.”
Blake turned off his squeaking wipers. The snow caught the breeze and flew over his windshield in a beautiful, frenzied dance.
“Look at the side of the road,” Tallia said. “It must’ve been snowing here for a while. There’s at least half an inch on the ground.”
The snow wasn’t sticking to the asphalt yet.
“Looks like you’re going to get that white Christmas after all.”
Blake tried to make sense of the warmth in his chest, the anticipation in his heart. He blinked when he realized God had answered his prayer for a white Christmas. His heart filled with something he’d not felt in a long time.
Hope.
10
The kids awoke when the car stopped in front of Tallia’s door.
Blake stepped into the falling snow to stretch, his eyes blinking in the sudden brightness.
Eli got out of the car and yawned.
Tallia and Kelsey gathered their things.
Eli waited until his girlfriend was finished, hugged her, and and whispered something in her ear.
Tallia met Blake’s eyes across the hood and smiled. “Well, it’s been…” her voice trailed off.
He laughed. “Yeah, it has.”
She tapped on Kelsey’s shoulder, who was still pressed up against Eli’s chest. “Let’s go. I’m exhausted.”
Blake and Eli climbed back into the car.
Blake shifted into drive and pointed his car towards the parking lot’s exit, spying Tallia’s white car as he swung around. He thought about Casper and their trip to the doughnut shop. And then he remembered Tallia’s wallet. He backed up, parked his car across the diagonal lines indicating a no parking zone in front of her building, and opened the compartment between the front seats. He grabbed the wallet. “Be right back.”
Finding her apartment number on the kiosk outside, he pressed the button beside it.
Tallia’s voice answered. “Yes?”
“It’s Blake. I have your wallet.”
The door buzzed, and he entered the building. As it had the night before, her door stood ajar. He knocked.
The door swung inward and Tallia smiled up at him. She’d already removed her boots and coat, revealing a Red Sox sweatshirt.
He wasn’t a huge fan of the Red Sox, but at that moment, he could be persuaded.
“Kelsey’s already fallen into bed,” she said. “Thank you for remembering.”
He grinned. “A practical joke gone horribly awry.”
She giggled. “Maybe, but I got two cups of coffee and a doughnut out of it.”
He handed her the wallet, feeling her icy fingers slide across the palm of his hand.
She dropped the wallet on top of her purse, which was lying on the floor.
He took her hands in his. “They’re cold again.”
Her grin faded. She met his gaze, blinked, and looked down at their intertwined hands. “And yours are warm.”
He squeezed gently, ignoring the throbbing in his right knuckle. “Tallia?” He waited until she looked up. “I promised myself I wouldn’t date until I mended my relationship with Eli. But I can have friends, right?”
She shrugged. “They’re your rules.”
“Friends have dinner together, don’t they?”
The corners of her mouth twitched. “I have dinner with friends a lot.”
“So maybe you could have dinner with me sometime?”
She blushed and lowered her gaze, trying to hide a grin. “I’d love to.”
It was the smile and the icy fingers and the sleepy haze the made him lean down and kiss her. Only after he’d tasted the coffee on her lips, tested their willingness, did he realize that, as a rule, friends did not kiss.
He’d worry about that after he slept.
“Will you be at church tonight?” she asked.
“Yes, hopefully with Eli.”
“Maybe I’ll see you there.”
He squeezed her hands. “Will you sit with us?”
“I’d love to.”
11
“Do I smell bacon?” Eli shuffled into the kitchen wearing plaid pajama pants and a grungy t-shirt.
“You do.”
Bacon had always roused Eli from bed.
Blake was glad to see some things never changed. “It should be done in about ten minutes. Do you still like your eggs scrambled?”
Eli helped himself to a cup of coffee. “Whatever.”
Cooking breakfast was helping Blake wake up.
He and Eli had driven home from Tallia’s in complete silence. They’d fallen into bed as soon as they got home.
Blake awakened at noon and started cooking, hoping the food would give him some energy. He poured frothy eggs into the warm pan. “Can you set the table, please?”
“Sure.”
“Do you still like ham and cheese in your scrambled eggs?”
“Whatever.”
Whatever.
Eli’s favorite word.
Blake tore the deli ham into pieces and dropped it into the eggs, added a handful of shredded cheddar, and continued to stir.
When everything was ready, he carried the food to the table. “You need ketchup or salsa for the eggs?”
“Salsa.”
“Did I forget anything?”
Eli was already scooping eggs onto his plate. “I don’t think so.”
“Excellent. Do you mind if I pray before we eat?”
Eli sighed audibly but didn’t protest, so Blake bowed his head.
“Dear heavenly Father, thank you for delivering the four of us home safely this morning. Thank you for protecting Eli and Kelsey last night. Please heal the two…gentlemen we met last night. Draw them to yourself. And thank you for this
food. In Jesus’s name, Amen.”
They both dug into their meals, eating silently.
Halfway through his third piece of bacon, Eli looked across the table. “Where’d you learn to cook?”
“I had to learn when I was a kid. My mother worked full time and my father was always gone. As soon as I was tall enough to reach the stove I was cooking.”
Eli swallowed his food and set his bacon on the plate. “I didn’t know that.”
“I made a lot of spaghetti with jarred sauce in those days. Or mac and cheese. I learned as I got older. I always liked beef, but we couldn’t afford much except hamburger, so I learned to make meatballs and meatloaf and shepherd’s pie—”
“Ew, gross.”
Blake remembered the mixture of meat and corn and potatoes. “I loved it. There wasn’t always meat, so Mom taught me how to make chicken a la king—which was really creamed chicken on toast. And if we didn’t have chicken, then it was creamed egg on toast.”
“That sounds disgusting.”
“It was food, and I was starving all the time just like you are now. I ate what we had and I tried not to complain.”
“I didn’t know you had it so rough.”
Blake sipped his juice and stared out the window.
Snow was still falling. There had to be two or three inches on the ground. It was gray outside, and cozy and beautiful inside, and it reminded him of his childhood home.
“I wouldn’t say it was rough. We didn’t have a lot of money, but we had what we needed. As I got older Dad sent home more money.”
“But your dad wasn’t around?”
“No, he wasn’t. You and I have that in common, at least. We both had absent fathers.”
Eli resumed eating.
Blake did the same, wondering what his son was thinking.
Eli spooned a second helping of eggs onto his plate and grabbed another piece of bacon. “So why Tae Kwon Do?”
“I wanted to beat up my big brother. You met Uncle Billy when we visited Colorado a few years ago. Do you remember?”
“He seemed OK.”
“You should’ve known him when he was a kid. We were home alone a lot. He’d order me around like a staff sergeant and if I said no, he’d smack me around. He was four years older than I was and I couldn’t defend myself.”
One Christmas Eve Page 7
