Between juggling work and trying to repair my ailing relationship with Eric, I had thoroughly researched the biggest purchase I had ever made. Like with most every other major decision, I analyzed it from every angle. I gathered opinions, weighed my options, then slept on it. Maybe impulsive was the wrong word for what happened.
Eric and I were back on speaking terms, though we danced around our issues without really discussing them. Our conversations focused on the safe, for which I was grateful. I really hated to bring up something so serious over the phone. I wasn’t about to drive to Indy while I was relying on the Miata for transportation; that just seemed like taking advantage of Blake. And Eric hadn’t volunteered to come back up to Fort Wayne. Honestly, I couldn’t blame him.
Instead, he had provided me with his opinions on what my next vehicle should be. His first suggestion had been a BMW, which I had nixed outright. He continued down the list of luxury vehicles from a Lexus to a Mercedes to a Cadillac; when I had refused all those, a Volvo. Admittedly, I did consider a Volvo longer than the others, but still decided against it.
Defeated, Eric had uncharacteristically spent hours on the phone with me searching the internet for my next car. After a lot of debate, we came across the Sonata. I loved it immediately. He could live with it. And so it was decided. As a consolation, I promised I wouldn’t settle for anything less than fully loaded. The color choice, red, was mine alone.
As luck would have it, no cars at the local dealership had met my criteria. I had test driven a charcoal gray one that had everything else on my list, but turned up my nose. This car was going to be with me for a long time; there was no sense in settling for good enough. So the accommodating salesman had done some digging and found the exact car I wanted in Illinois somewhere. I had written a hefty downpayment check and they had promised to make it happen. Five business days later, my new car was ready for me.
Which led me to now. Shivering, I stood back as Blake and Matthew ogled my vehicle from every possible angle. There was something about a new car that made people gather, sort of like babies and puppies. Try as I might to tell myself it was just a means to get from point A to point B, I had to admit that there was a sense of euphoria in my stomach. I rather liked my early Christmas present.
“Enough,” I said finally, shooing them away, “I’m freezing. Let’s go inside.”
They scattered, heading up the sidewalk to the front porch. I climbed in the driver’s seat and pulled it in to the garage. We met in the kitchen.
Since I had been occupied at the dealership, Matthew had brought over a pizza for dinner. Blake grabbed the paper plates from the cabinet and we sat down at the breakfast bar for a decidedly casual meal. As I lifted a slice of thin crust pepperoni from the box to my plate, I took in my surroundings and felt at peace.
Through the sliding glass doors that led out to the deck I could see that the snow had begun falling in earnest. The wintery backdrop added a serene quality to the scene that played out in front of me. Blake and Matthew laughed about something that I had missed during my reverie, their faces pure images of joy. I smiled to myself, thinking that out of all the people that I had ever met, these two deserved to be happy more than anyone else.
So often both sets of ocean blue eyes would look at me with an unmistakable twinge of pain even when I had said something benign. I knew there was so much that I didn’t know. I doubted that if I hadn’t revealed my mother’s fate early on that I would have even gotten the partial story. My knowledge barely scratched the surface. I wondered if I would ever learn the whole truth.
I snuck a peek at Matthew smiling at his sister. It was nearly impossible to imagine him how he must have been years ago. From the bits and pieces that Blake had let slip, he had been quite the athlete, always the ladies man and more than a little cocky. I couldn’t see the arrogance now; his struggles had washed that clear away. His guilt was a double-edged sword; it had floated him back down to earth at the same time it made him feel unworthy of being here.
My eyes traveled to Blake. She, too, had gone through so much. Though the legal troubles hadn’t been her own, she had dealt with the repercussions of standing by her brother’s side. I couldn’t fathom parents who could disown one child, let alone two. I was sure that hidden in the tangled web of Matthew’s arrests would be some explanation of what had gone on between her and Chris. To lose your parents, your brother and your boyfriend in one fell swoop had to be awful.
“Lauren,” Blake called out.
I snapped to attention, blushing as I realized that this was not the first time she had addressed me. “Sorry,” I muttered.
Blake grinned. “As I was saying, Lauren, while you were daydreaming about your new car, Matthew and I were discussing Christmas.”
I sighed inwardly with relief. If she wanted to blame my lack of attention on my new vehicle, I wasn’t about to argue.
“Since Thanksgiving went so well,” I began sarcastically, “I think we should have a separate holiday for just the three of us.”
“Agreed,” Matthew said quickly, “though I think our problem is only with one of your guests.”
He caught my eye and I nodded. I knew he shared the sentiment with Blake. If Eric wasn’t in the picture, we could have another get together with my dad and Gracie. But he was, so that option was out. I couldn’t say I blamed Matthew for voicing his opinion. I wasn’t eager to repeat the drama that had unfolded a few weeks back, or the tongue lashing the two of us had gotten from Blake as a result. Things still hadn’t gotten completely back to normal between us. I had the distinct feeling that we walked on eggshells in each other’s presence, afraid of Blake’s watchful eyes.
“So,” I said, drawing out the syllable as I thought, “how about we have Christmas Eve here? I have to work till noon, and then we could get together. Then I’ll wake up in the morning on Christmas Day and drive down to Indy. The two of you will be free to do whatever it is that you do usually.”
“Which amounts to a whole lot of nothing,” Blake laughed, “which is kind of sad.”
Her face fell momentarily, a blink and you missed it kind of thing. I caught it all, and it made me feel so badly for her. Christmas had always been big at the Jefferies house, my dad’s favorite holiday. I used to think it was due to the fact that he was trying to make up for being a single parent, but the truth of the matter was he just loved that time of year. If I were to show up unannounced at his place any time in the month of December, I knew I would be greeted at the front door with a giant wreath and one of those silly reindeer doormats. Inside my childhood home would be an impressively decorated tree complete with expertly wrapped gifts underneath.
I had been so wrapped up in all of my issues that I hadn’t noticed that the queen of interior decorating hadn’t put a stitch up in her own home for Christmas. I wondered if she was just that busy, too, or if there was some sort of a mental block against it. I weighed the risk of her being pissed off at me for bringing a live tree home and setting it up tomorrow. I decided to try to get Matthew alone and ask him if she had some aversion to Christmas just in case. It didn’t seem like it, but I didn’t want to open up an unnecessary can of worms.
“So it’s settled then,” Matthew said, “we are on for Christmas Eve.”
“I won’t have time to cook or anything,” I said quickly, the realization popping into my head, “not with work and all.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Blake shrugged, “we can do something simple like ham sandwiches. Not every meal has to be a massive undertaking. You don’t need to impress us.”
“Suit yourself. But one thing that I can do right is cook. Sadly, you all witnessed how unimpressive my relationship skills are.”
“So how is Eric?” she asked pointedly. Matthew rolled his eyes and pretended to be disinterested in the conversation. He rose from the bar and collected the empty pizza box and our plates. He kept one ear tuned to what we were saying as he threw the trash away in the pantry.
It wa
s my turn to shrug. “Okay, I guess. We haven’t really talked about things. I was waiting to do that in person, you know?”
“Well, you’re free to fly now,” Blake mused, “I take it a trip to Indy is in order? Before Christmas?”
“Time’s kind of running out for that,” I admitted, “it’ll keep until then. He’s busy with end of the year stuff at work and so am I. And then the whole Christmas thing thrown in there with shopping for gifts and all.”
“And the total lack of desire of addressing the problem?” she smiled.
“That too. We’re both pretty good at ignoring the elephant in the room.”
“So I’ve noticed. You’re trying for two ruined holidays in a row. Maybe you could make it three and go for New Year’s also.”
“Your faith in me is astounding.”
“My faith in you is astounding. Eric, however, I have no faith in whatsoever.”
“We are talking. That’s something.”
“Sure it is.” Blake didn’t sound convinced.
Matthew returned to the breakfast bar and took his stool, an amused expression on his face. I elbowed him.
“I don’t need you chiming in, too,” I muttered.
“What?” he laughed, “I didn’t say anything.”
“You don’t have to.”
Our eyes met again, and his expression was indecipherable. My breath caught nonetheless, and I tried to read between the lines. His eyes narrowed, out of concern, perhaps? Then, just as quickly as the moment snuck up on me, it vanished into thin air and he was grinning at me.
“I’ve already got your present,” he teased, “and you are going to love it.”
My stomach somersaulted. Sure, there was a part of me that suspected he might get me something. After all, we were celebrating together and to come empty handed would be slightly rude. I had counted on it being of the drugstore variety, hastily purchased at the last minute out of obligation. A friendly gesture. A bottle of lotion maybe, but not something that I would love.
I coughed slightly before choking out a response. “Great. Because you are going to love your present, too.”
At least I hoped I could find something that he would halfway like.
“That is, when you buy it, right?” He winked, letting me know that I couldn’t fool him.
“Shut up.”
“Hey, gorgeous, nobody’s perfect. I know it takes you forever to make up your mind about things, anyway. You probably have a spreadsheet in your room with possible gift ideas that you’ve been working on since the day we met.”
“Again, shut up.”
“So,” Blake interjected, “if you work until noon, we can count on eating about one thirty? I figure Matthew will come over early, so we can start on stuff before you get here. That way we’ll be done early enough that you can get up at the crack of dawn Christmas morning for your drive to the big city.”
“Sounds good to me,” I agreed.
Blake’s cell rang. She picked it up off of the counter beside her, stared at the screen for a split second, and finally answered it. “Snyder Designs,” she chirped brightly, walking into the living room for privacy.
Now was my chance. I leaned over the counter, effectively cutting the distance between myself and Matthew in half. Instinctively, he leaned in as well. For a moment, I was rendered speechless at his proximity. Once I had collected my thoughts I whispered conspiratorially, “Why doesn’t she have a Christmas tree yet?”
This was clearly not what he had been expecting. He stared at me blankly. I chose to continue.
“I mean the woman decorated your mailbox for Thanksgiving, and we have no Christmas decorations up. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was the middle of summer in here.”
He looked conflicted. So there was a reason behind the lack of Christmas spirit. I watched intently as he struggled inwardly with what he should do next. Would he tell me what was going on? I desperately wanted him to. There was a part of me that needed him to trust me. Instinct told me that whatever the issue was, it was his sister’s alone. This greatly reduced the probability of me finding out, as he seemed willing to do whatever it took to protect her. But I was harmless. I wouldn’t hurt her.
I sighed, admitting defeat. “I just need to know if she’ll object to me decorating the house. If a tree is going to piss her off, then I’ll not get one.”
He swallowed hard, craning his neck to see into the living room. I could still hear indistinguishable conversation coming in bits and pieces as Blake spoke with her client. Deciding the coast was clear, he said softly, “I went to jail about this time of year. Christmas was the first holiday she was alone. It didn’t sit well. She had just been disowned by our parents and she and Chris had just broken up. And I was, well, indisposed.”
I nodded, eager to learn more. I didn’t want to pry, but I did want to understand. Matthew had drawn an outline of an idea. I wanted him to color it in. Unfortunately he wouldn’t get the chance, even if he wanted to. Blake had wandered close enough to the kitchen that we could hear that her phone call was wrapping up.
“Go ahead and get the tree,” he advised, placing his hand over mine. “She’d never do it for herself. And that will be the best present that you can give her. She needs to move on as much as I do.”
He gave my hand a squeeze prior to pulling away. We separated not a second too soon, back to our respective ends of the counter right as Blake breezed into the room. As expected, the heat from his touch burned my skin long after his hand had been removed. Absentmindedly, I rubbed the offending area with the fingers of my opposite hand.
“Well,” Matthew said, rising from his stool, “it’s getting late. I’m going to take off.”
“See you, dork.” Blake grinned.
“Bye,” I said simply.
He hugged his sister quickly, pausing for a brief moment in front of me. If Blake’s watchful eyes hadn’t been fixed on us, I was sure he would have done the same with me. Instead, he gave me sort of an awkward pat on the shoulder and was gone.
As soon as the door closed behind him, I turned to my roommate. “What did he get me?”
She shrugged. “No clue.”
“He said I would love it. This makes me scared.”
“Because Eric would be jealous if he knew?”
“Damn. I hadn’t thought that far yet. No, I’m scared because I haven’t gotten him anything yet.”
“I have a feeling that no matter what you would get him, he would think it was the best present ever.”
“Blake,” I whined, “there is nothing going on.”
“Then why would Eric be jealous?”
“Because it smacks of something going on. My God, what if Matthew gets me something wonderful and I have to lie about where I got it?”
Blake twisted her strand of blue hair about her finger. “I don’t think he’s that stupid. Besides, Eric doesn’t see you enough to have a mental inventory of everything you own. Even if it is something like jewelry or a sweater, you can always say you got it for yourself. Or that I gave it to you or something.”
“You, my friend, are pretty devious. And it comes in handy sometimes.”
“Do you really think that Eric tells you everything? Why should you be any different?”
I sighed. “I worry that he doesn’t tell me everything. Trust me, I know he has plenty of opportunity to do whatever he pleases. But if I start doubting him, then what does that say about our relationship? If I want him to trust me, I need to give him the same respect. And he should trust me, because nothing is going on.”
“I think the scene at Thanksgiving says plenty about your relationship. Not all of it good.”
I would have been upset with her if her words hadn’t rung true. I had been hearing the same commentary from Gracie pretty much ever since we became friends. To have Blake hold virtually the same opinion in the two seconds she had witnessed us together was eye-opening. Maybe I was the one not seeing things clearly. Instead of firing off a quick reto
rt, I stared down at the granite countertop.
“See, you know I’m right.” Her words were soft, not arrogant. She slid onto the seat beside me gracefully. She gave me a moment to absorb her words, then continued. “There’s a saying about how insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.”
Again, I kept quiet. I did look back up at her, choosing not to believe that she was calling me insane. I had a general feeling I knew where she was headed. I had gone there in my own mind more often than I cared to think about.
“Time and again he hurts you and you take him back. I know that people disagree. People don’t always get along. But these aren’t simple arguments. You have conflicting viewpoints over major things. And because you hate confrontation, you go along with what he says most of the time.”
“I have stood up to him about things before. The move here, for instance.”
“Right, but eventually you are going to have to be on the same page. At least on the basic stuff. A long-distance relationship won’t work forever. At some point you want to get married and have kids, I’m sure. It’s a little hard to raise a family together when you’re two hours apart. One of you is going to have to back down. Likely not him.”
I closed my eyes. She had nailed it. Was everything so transparent, so obvious? Had I been hiding from the truth for years, clinging to hope that things would change? Was a relationship with Eric worth giving up my promotion? Would he ask me to?
The sinking feeling in my stomach suggested he would.
“Relationships are about compromise,” I said quietly, “and he said that we would figure out a way to make this work. I have to believe that he was sincere. If it pissed him off that bad that I moved away, he would have broken up with me already.”
Blake placed her hand on my shoulder. “I hope for your sake that you’re right. I don’t want to see you get hurt. Just make sure that in the end, no matter what happens, that you’re happy.”
She stared off into the distance wistfully, like she just realized she should have taken her own advice. I wanted so badly to open the dialogue about her and Chris, but I held my tongue. With the new insight I had gained from Matthew I figured now wouldn’t be the time. If she wouldn’t tell me something as innocent as why we hadn’t decorated for Christmas yet, I doubted she would wax poetically about her brother going to jail and breaking up with her steady boyfriend.
Intoxicated Page 21
