Unruly

by Cora Brent

Rocco made a face. “It’s nothing. Just a way to pass the time, you know?”

  Yes, I did know. “Sheryl still live around here?”

  His head dropped. “Yeah. She does. She’s engaged. Some fucker from Great Neck.”

  “That bites, Roc. I’m sorry.”

  “My fault,” he shrugged. “She gave me years to make it work. I couldn’t get there.” He sighed and started to walk down the block to his house. “Don’t stay out here in the cold all night.”

  Dark was settling fast. I heard the high sound of my sister’s laughter coming from the house. She’d insisted on throwing Jack’s winter jacket around my shoulders before I came out here. My hands were bare though. I flexed them, noting the stiffness of the joints, the numb tingling of the skin. But five minutes indoors would cure that. It wasn’t permanent, wasn’t caused by my body’s betrayal of itself. I was the lucky one.

  Anya never mentioned whether the symptoms had started yet. It was the chronic elephant in the room. She was twenty-seven now, still eight years younger than when our mother’s body started to fail her. There were little hints, like Jack’s tense face earlier in the kitchen, that made me uneasy. But I never asked. I was afraid to. And it would hurt her to tell me.

  I stayed out in the yard until it was completely dark. Jack finally opened up the kitchen window and shouted that I needed to get my ass inside before I fell into a snow drift.

  When I returned to the living room, Claudia was holding Allie next to the Christmas tree. Her face was soft and beautiful as she spoke gently into her tiny sister’s ear, pointing to all the glittering objects hanging from the tree. She didn’t so much as glance in my direction.

  “Shit,” Jack said, looking out the window. “It’s really coming down out there.”

  Soon Anya made a big spectacle of announcing that she’d checked the NORAD Santa Tracker and he would be in New York within the hour. Of course Allie didn’t understand a word of that, but it was cute anyway. Soon Allison Giordano was carried off to bed looking like a holiday princess in red fleece footed pajamas. I thought what a damn shame it was that no one ever remembered their first Christmas. We could tell her about it someday and she would see pictures, but it wasn’t the same.

  Claudia and I were briefly alone while Jack and Anya were putting Allie to bed.

  “I don’t want to fight,” she said, crossing her arms and giving me a cautious look.

  “We’re not fighting.”

  “Good,” she sighed. “Let’s keep it that way.”

  “You got it.”

  She ran a hand through her hair and stopped suddenly, like she was surprised it was so much shorter than it used to be. She was just too damn gorgeous. “So I didn’t get a chance to congratulate you on the draft. The pros, it’s what you’ve always wanted, right?”

  “It is.”

  “Well, you’re on your way and I’m sure you’ll be great.”

  “You’ve never seen me.”

  “What?”

  “Pitch. You’ve never seen me pitch.”

  “Oh. Well, I’ve heard all about it.”

  “Not the same. I really want you to see me.”

  She looked puzzled. She was probably trying to figure out how high on the bullshit meter I was riding or if I was talking about something trashy. But there was no time for anyone to figure anything out because Jack and Anya returned.

  Claudia put her head down and started for the stairs. “You know, this weather has a way of making you want to hibernate until it’s over. Early night for me, folks. Merry Christmas.”

  Jack massaged Anya’s neck with one hand and hailed his daughter with the other. “Heat should hold out unless we lose power but it’s gonna be a cold one. So bundle up, kid.”

  Claudia turned around once. She looked at Jack and Anya together. “I will, Jack. Good night.”

  Anya went to the kitchen and started to clean up the mess of pots and pans from when she’d made spaghetti for dinner.

  Jack followed her in there and protested. “I’ll take care of all that, baby.”

  She said something to him in a voice that was almost too low for me to hear. It sounded like, “I’m fine.”

  “I know,” soothed Jack, “but be an angel and warm up the bed for me, would you?”

  “I can do that,” she said and I could hear the smile in her voice right before the soft sounds of kissing.

  Anya hugged me as she passed through the living room. She’d always hugged me often, ever since I was little. Maybe she figured she had to, since there was no one else to do it. But now there was a desperate kind of sadness about the way she clung to my neck.

  “Thank you for being my brother,” she whispered. “Love you, East.”

  “Love you too,” I told her, noticing that she was thinner than she had been at Thanksgiving and that was only a month ago.

  A second later I decided I was crazy for worrying because she flashed me a happy grin and practically skipped off to bed. Anya was just feeling emotional because of the holidays and because her life was pure heaven. There was nothing disturbing about any of it.

  I wasn’t quite ready to settle down for a long winter’s nap so I found Jack in the kitchen. He was drying dinner glasses with a red dishtowel and looking out the window.

  “You know,” he said with some irritation as he glared at the snow, “I wish just once in a while that girl could bring herself to call me Dad.”

  “Claudia?”

  Jack looked at me like I was a few fries short of a Happy Meal. “Of course Claudia.”

  “Right.”

  “Who the hell else would I be talking about? Allie’s not even a year old.”

  “Okay, okay. What’s the deal with that anyway? The way I remember it she’s always called you Jack.”

  “That’s the way I remember it too.” He set the dishtowel down and leaned on the back of a kitchen chair. “I don’t know. Too late at this point I guess. I was barely a father to her when she needed it and now she’s a grown woman. But I can’t help but wish she would give in a little.”

  “Claudia doesn’t like to give in.”

  Jack threw me a sharp, incredulous look and frantically I tried to figure out how I could pull back such a suspicious comment.

  Then, slowly, he nodded. “I guess that’s it,” he said tiredly. “She’s been hurt. She doesn’t ever want to be hurt again.”

  I would never hurt her.

  “Jack?”

  “Yeah?”

  “How’s Anya?”

  His jaw tightened and his face grew stubborn. I noticed that he had a small amount of gray hair around his temples.

  “Anya’s perfect,” he said with confidence. He smiled. “She’s happy.”

  We talked about other things after that, about baseball and spring training and whether the sinker or the knuckleball was going to be my signature pitch. Jack asked me if there were any girls in Florida. I told him there were many girls but that I couldn’t remember any of them at the moment.

  “You will,” he said knowingly. “Someday, out of nowhere, it’ll hit you like a lightning bolt.” Then he yawned. “I’m turning in. Your sister left you a pile of blankets next to the couch but if you’re still cold there’s more in the hall closet.”

  Once Jack was gone I turned the kitchen light off and sat in front of the window, watching the silent snow continue to fall. A floorboard creaked somewhere in the house and it sounded like it was coming from upstairs. I pictured Claudia restlessly rising from her bed and going to the window so she could look down at the icy white world. She would be directly above where I was sitting, so close and yet so far.

  I leaned on the windowsill, letting my breath fog up the glass as I remembered being a kid, when every snowfall was so exciting.

  Not anymore. Now it was just cold.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  ANYA

  By seven a.m. Anya couldn’t stand it anymore. Jack laughed at her exuberance as he threw on some warm clothes. She took a moment
to admire his naked body. Nearly forty, he was still very fit and muscular. He was one of those men who would never allow that to fade, which was just fine with her.

  When they reached Allie’s room she was still sound asleep in her crib. She blinked and then cooed when she saw her parents. Anya picked her up and whispered sweet things into her precious little ear, resolving to remember every second of it all.

  Easton was still asleep in the living room amid a decadent display of wrapped gifts. He woke up grumpily and asked if he could sleep in their bed since they weren’t using it.

  “Sure,” Jack shrugged. “Just as long as you don’t mind the thought of what else happens in that bed.”

  “Fuck you, Jack.”

  “East!” Anya scolded. “Don’t say ‘fuck’ on Christmas.”

  “You just said ‘fuck’ on Christmas,” Jack pointed out.

  “You did say ‘fuck’ on Christmas,” Easton agreed and the two of them had a good old time laughing while Anya crouched down on the floor with the baby and started helping her open gifts from Santa.

  “Easton, go knock on Claudia’s door, would you?”

  “I’d rather not. She’s the cranky type in the morning. Not that I would know. I’ve never seen her in the morning. You know what? I’ll go knock on her door.”

  Jack was down on the floor helping Allie tear wrapping paper so he missed Easton’s nervous jumble of words. Anya didn’t miss it though.

  Claudia wouldn’t sit down without a cup of coffee in her hand but once she did join them she seemed to relax and enjoy the sight of her little sister examining ribbons and boxes. Anya looked around her with satisfaction. With Easton and Claudia here the scene seemed somehow complete.

  The morning passed in a blur and it was time to start the lasagna. The first time she’d ever made lasagna had been the first dinner she cooked for Jack. She went wrong somehow with the recipe and it turned out rubbery and awful. He ate every bite anyway.

  Rocco and Getty must have smelled the food cooking six houses away. They had a knack for showing up just as dinner was served. As soon as they rolled through the door the noise volume increased tenfold.

  Claudia was stunning in a simple black dress accented with silver jewelry. As Anya settled Allie in her high chair she saw Claudia choose a seat. Easton had been right behind Claudia but he selected a chair as far away as he could get from her and still be at the same table. Anya didn’t know what was going on between the two of them. She wasn’t sure she wanted to.

  After the dishes had been cleared off and the obligatory football game turned on, Easton was bouncing Allie on his lap as he sat in the living room recliner.

  “She’s gonna spit up on you,” Jack warned.

  “No she won’t,” Easton insisted.

  “She will. She just ate. How would you like to be treated like a basketball on a full stomach?”

  “I’m not treating her like a basketball. I’m trying to make her laugh.”

  “Why can’t you just make dumb faces and stand on your head like a normal uncle?”

  Easton turned the baby around and held her up so that she was looking down into his face. “You would never puke on Uncle Easton, would you?”

  Allie responded by opening her mouth and letting a few ounces of applesauce and curdled milk roll right out and hit Easton in the eye.

  All the men howled with laughter.

  “Serves ya right!” Getty clapped and Rocco tossed over one of Anya’s good linen napkins.

  Jack was annoyed. “Now that you’ve traumatized my daughter how about you give her back?” he said, walking over and removing Allie as Easton sputtered and cleaned the spit up from his face.

  Allie didn’t seem particularly traumatized though. She laughed as Jack wiped her mouth off and kissed her cheek.

  When Anya saw her daughter spew all over her brother she’d stepped forward, meaning to scold him with a smile and take the baby away. But then she looked down and saw her right hand trembling. She flexed it and the left hand began quivering as well. Luckily everyone else in the room was focused on the spectacle of Easton grumpily mopping up baby vomit.

  She quietly retreated to the kitchen, hoping no one would notice. She needed a minute, just a minute, and then she could return as the bright-eyed hostess. But her chest heaved and she fought tears away. She couldn’t cry, not today. If she cried Jack would notice right away.

  Anya sat down and removed her apron with shaking fingers. She gritted her teeth and tried to will them to stop shaking but they wouldn’t obey. She held her hands out in front of her and stared as they seemed to vibrate with some wicked electric force. Then, suddenly, they stopped.

  “You need help?”

  It was Claudia. Claudia had followed her. Jack’s daughter was looking at her with curious concern. Anya didn’t know how much she’d seen.

  “I could use some help,” she said, clasping her hands in her lap. “Sleep is a luxury since Allie was born and sometimes I get a little tired, that’s all.”

  Claudia nodded. “What can I do?” she asked and Anya decided she hadn’t seen anything.

  “If you could arrange the cookies on the ceramic platter over there that would be awesome.”

  Claudia carefully moved the platter over to the table. “It’s pretty,” she said, examining it.

  “It was my mother’s. She made it in some ceramics class before I was born.”

  “Did she paint all these little festive designs on it too?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hm,” said Claudia, beginning to stack the cookies on the plate. “She was talented.”

  “She was.”

  Anya watched as Claudia haphazardly stacked the cookies. It wasn’t how Anya would have done it, but she didn’t complain. She knew Jack hadn’t said a word to Claudia about Anya’s symptoms. She didn’t think Claudia even knew about Anya’s diagnosis.

  “You think you’ll ever move back here?” she asked Jack’s daughter.

  Claudia paused, looking surprised. It really was a surprising question. Claudia had never given anyone the slightest hint that she would consider returning.

  “No,” she said with certainty. “I mean, I highly doubt it. This area is so expensive, jobs are scarce, and I’ve gotten used to living out west.” She resumed stacking cookies, piling thumbprint wavers on top of divinity drops. “Why do you ask?”

  Because they’ll need you, Claudia. They’ll need you badly. All of them.

  “I was just thinking. You are family. It would be nice if you were closer, if we were closer.”

  Claudia stopped and gave her a long, searching look, like she was trying to sort out whether Anya meant those words or not. They’d only spoken a handful of times since she’d married Jack, and those were only two-minute chance phone conversations. Anya was sure there was no animosity there, not anymore, but there wasn’t really friendship either.

  “Thank you,” Claudia said quietly. Anya had the sudden urge to jump up and embrace her, to cry on Claudia’s shoulder and confide her terror of the future. For Jack’s sake, and now for Allie’s, she tried to remain cheerful as often as possible. And Easton would have been absolutely devastated to learn that the symptoms had set in. Claudia was the only one who would be able to stand hearing about it. She was the only one who loved them all enough to grasp the tragedy and was also strong enough for them to lean on.

  But Jack might have had his reasons for keeping Claudia in the dark, just as she had her reasons for protecting Easton from the truth. It wasn’t Anya’s place to interfere with that.

  Claudia stepped back and surveyed the platter with her head cocked. “Well, I guess I did a crappy job but something tells me they’ll pig out just the same.”

  Anya managed a grin. “That they will.”

  “Want me to carry it in?”

  “Please. I’ll be right there. I’m just going to put some coffee on.” She stood up and brusquely began filling the carafe.

  “Hey, Anya?”

  “Y
es?” she said without turning around.

  Claudia hesitated then blurted, “You’ve done an amazing job here. With Jack, with the baby. Really, I mean that. I’m glad he married you.”

  Claudia didn’t wait for an answer. She whisked away the platter piled high with cookies while Anya watched the water run. She stuck her hand under the faucet and was relieved that instead of the occasional numbness she felt the sting of the scalding water. She shut the faucet off and grabbed a dishtowel, wrapping it around her red hand.

  “Not yet,” she begged the empty room. She knew it was a useless plea. She repeated it anyway. “Please not yet.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CLAUDIA

  If he had knocked on my door last night would I have opened it? I wasn’t sure.

  Liar.

  Anyway, Easton wasn’t the knocking type. If Easton wanted to get through the door he just would have barreled right through it. And once he was inside I would have let him do whatever else he wanted. After all, how much stranger could things get?

  Thankfully, Jack and Anya were too wrapped up in their holiday magic to notice that anything seemed odd. I avoided making eye contact with Easton whenever possible but I was always aware of him. Even if my back was turned when he entered the room, I knew he was there. There was something primitive and instinctual about it. I’d had my share of heart-pounding infatuations over the years but all were trivial compared to the way my knees threatened to buckle whenever Easton Malone got within ten yards of me.

  The snow had stopped sometime early on Christmas morning and Easton was out there after breakfast, doggedly shoveling and refusing Jack’s suggestion to wait for Rocco to wake up and haul the snow blower over.

  In order to stop obsessing over Easton I focused on other things. I had a sister now. Actually it was possible I had more than one since I had no knowledge of what my mother had been up to for the past few decades. But Allison was definite. We wouldn’t grow up together as playmates but I loved her even before I met her. She would be raised in the happy presence of parents who loved each other and made her world a happy one. I was grateful for that.