Merry Ex-Mas

by Sheila Roberts

  “Think we can work on being a team instead of adversaries?” he proposed. “For the kids’ sake?”

  She should have been the one proposing that, and she should have done it a long time ago. “I’m willing to try.” After all, they’d be sharing these kids and probably grandkids for a lifetime.

  “Me, too.” He got up and took his mug to the sink.

  “Mason?”

  He turned, a questioning look on his face.

  “You chose a nice wife.”

  He nodded. “I think so.”

  “I still hate her dog.”

  He smiled. “Me, too,” he said, and left the kitchen.

  Cass glanced at the kitchen clock and decided she’d better get back to bed. She didn’t bother to finish the milk. She didn’t need it anymore.

  * * *

  Jake tossed his cell phone aside and slumped against the couch cushions.

  Tiny laid his head on Jake’s leg and looked up at him in doggy concern.

  “My life’s in the toilet,” he told the dog.

  Ironic considering that his song was now up to 7400 views.

  “You’ve got to take that thing down,” he’d said to Larry.

  “Are you nuts? Do you know how many views we’re up to?”

  “Yeah, and I don’t care if we’re up to a million.”

  “What the hell is the matter with you?”

  “I’m trying to get back with Ella.”

  “So?”

  “So my mother-in-law saw it.”

  “Ex-mother-in-law, dude,” Larry had reminded him.

  “She won’t be an ex-mother-in-law once Ella and I are back together. And we were—until that song.”

  “I feel your pain,” Larry had said. “Women. But, hey, what are you gonna do?”

  “Take the song down, for starters.”

  “No can do, buddy.”

  “I can’t get her back as long as that song is up there!” Jake had shouted.

  “If her mom already saw it, it’s too late, anyway. I’m not taking it down.”

  “You have to!”

  “Hey, man, you may be our lead singer but I’m still the leader of this band. Now, I let you have your no-drinking onstage rule and your one-drink-during-practice rule, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let you screw things up for all of us just ’cause you’re hot to get in your ex’s pants.”

  It was a good thing they’d only been talking over the phone. Otherwise, Jake would have punched Larry’s lights out. “You need to take that song down,” he shouted.

  “No, you need to get your shit together,” Larry had said, and hung up.

  And now, after that happy conversation, here came a call from Billy Joe Brown, a Nashville talent manager who had seen him on YouTube, wanting to know if he was under management. Did he have a CD in the works? Where had his band played? What were his plans for the future?

  To win back his wife—that was his plan. But Jake had been properly professional, and he and Billy Joe left it that he’d talk to his band, then call him back.

  “The sooner, the better, son,” Billy Joe advised. “When the snowball starts rolling you want to take advantage of it.”

  Well, the snowball had started rolling, and it had rolled right over Jake’s love life.

  Next to him, Tiny let out a groan.

  “Yeah, I know. It’s not all about me, is it? Tell you what, let’s go for a walk and then get some firewood.”

  Tiny barked his approval of the plan.

  Some people (Jake’s ex-mother-in-law) thought that dogs couldn’t understand human vocabulary, but Jake didn’t agree. Tiny understood a lot. For sure he understood what walk meant. That translated into bounding across snow-covered lawns, sniffing and peeing on every shrub that crossed his path.

  He also understood what firewood was. It was an exciting chore. Jake had a sled reserved for hauling in the wood that he harnessed to Tiny, so he could pull it from the shed to the house. It was more work harnessing Tiny and loading and unloading the wood than it was simply bringing in a couple of armloads, but Saint Bernards needed a purpose.

  So did humans. A man needed to do what he was put on earth to do.

  He probably hadn’t been put here to diss Ella’s mom.

  Once he’d brought in the wood it didn’t take him long to get a roaring fire going. He grabbed his guitar, plunked down on the couch and stared into the flames. How many times had he sat here like this on a winter’s day, dreaming of a future filled with success? His dreams were finally starting to come true, but they wouldn’t mean anything without Ella by his side. He was living in ashes.

  He strummed his guitar. “I’m living in ashes. The fire is gone.”

  The song began to flow, and soon he was so caught up in what he was creating that he lost all track of time. He never heard the door open, never heard Ella walk into the room. He’d just finished singing his last chorus when he opened his eyes and there she stood by the fireplace. Was he hallucinating?

  The hallucination spoke. “That’s a beautiful song,” she said softly. “Why couldn’t you have put that up on YouTube?”

  If he had they’d be solid now. He shook his head. “I don’t know.” That was a lie. He knew exactly why he’d put up his snarky holiday greeting to his ex-mother-in-law. He’d been angry.

  And immature.

  “That was a mean thing to do.”

  Yes, it had been.

  She opened her mouth to say something else, then seemed to think better of it and started to leave the room.

  “Wait,” he begged. “What were you going to say?”

  “What does it matter?”

  “It matters a lot.”

  She pursed her lips and studied him. At last she spoke. “I know I married you, Jake, and I owed you my loyalty. I did a lot of stupid things. I was jealous for no reason, and toward the end I know I wasn’t very supportive.”

  You could say that again. Jake wisely kept his mouth shut.

  “But maybe if the shoe had been on the other foot, you’d have gotten jealous. And maybe you’d have jumped to the same conclusions.”

  She had a point there. “Maybe,” he conceded.

  “And you can’t blame Mims, either. She was only trying to help.”

  Was that what you called it?

  Ella bit her lip. Sure enough. “You always want to make me choose—you or Mims. Do you know how impossible that is? What would you have done if I’d asked you to choose between your mother and me?”

  Jake gave a snort. “That would never have happened because my mom likes you.” And my mom’s cool and yours is a bitch. “Anyway, your mom never wanted to share. She’s hated me ever since I asked you to the senior prom.”

  “No, only since you picked me up for prom in that beat-up old truck,” Ella corrected him. The memory brought a reluctant smile to her lips.

  He grinned. “We took some rides I’ll never forget in that old truck.”

  Ella sobered. “Oh, Jake.”

  Just then the doorbell rang. Jake swore. “Don’t answer.”

  “I have to. It’s Mims.”

  “Don’t tell me, let me guess—you two are going out to dinner.” The wicked witch of the Pacific Northwest, sweeping in again, just when she was most not wanted.

  “We’re going to dinner at—”

  Jake cut her off. “Schwangau.”

  Ella nodded.

  Big surprise there. Mims didn’t like Mexican, and a pizza joint was beneath her. She sure as heck wouldn’t be interested in Big Brats or Herman’s Hamburgers. Now that Zelda’s was closed for repairs, the hoity-toity Schwangau was the only place this side of Seattle where Lily Swan would deign to eat. Why the hell couldn’t she find someone her own age to go to dinner with?

  Ella hurried down the hall. Jake could hear her opening the door, could hear Lily saying, “You ready, baby? I don’t want to keep Axel waiting.”

  Axel! Who’d painted him back in the picture?

  “Let me get my coat,” s
aid Ella.

  There it sat on a nearby chair, along with her purse. For a moment Jake considered hiding them.

  Now she was back, her expression unhappy, and he wasn’t sure if she was unhappy about the conversation they’d been having or about the fact that her mother was taking her away. “I have to go,” she said, not looking him in the eye.

  “El,” he pleaded. They could work this out if they could just have some uninterrupted time to talk.

  She shook her head and rushed off, putting on her coat as she went.

  In less than a minute he heard the door shut.

  “Now what am I supposed to do?” he asked Tiny.

  Tiny whimpered in sympathy.

  Jake fell back against the couch cushions. “They’re a matched set, aren’t they?” he mused. “Hard to find a woman who doesn’t come attached to her mama.”

  What was that about, anyway? Men left home and their moms accepted it. Why was it so hard for them to let go of their daughters? Or their daughters to let go of them? Was it some kind of female thing?

  “You take one, you get the other,” he informed Tiny. “No extra charge.” He thought he’d been marrying one woman, but he’d gotten a twofer. Well, sort of. He would have if Lily Swan had ever approved of him.

  She sure didn’t approve of him now, thanks to that song. Who’d think one song could do so much damage?

  “You should have known,” he told himself. “Songs are powerful.”

  Hmm. Yes, they were. A song had gotten him into this latest mess. Could a song get him out?

  20

  “Axel, I’m glad you could join us on the spur of the moment like this,” Mims said after the waiter had taken their orders.

  “My pleasure.” He looked inquiringly at Ella. “I thought you’d have plans with Jake.”

  Lily spoke for her. “She doesn’t. She and Jake are through for good.”

  “Really?” Axel sounded dubious.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Ella said.

  He nodded. “Well, this is some snowfall we’re getting, isn’t it?”

  Ella gazed out the window at the scene of snowcapped shops lit by old-fashioned streetlights. When it snowed like this, she and Jake liked to be tucked in their house in front of a roaring fire.

  He’d built a fire for her.

  Who cared? What he’d done to her mother was unforgivable.

  But was it understandable? She could still remember his angry words when they had their final fight, right before he accused her of not trusting him, and told her to go ahead and get that divorce. “I blame this on your mom. She’s wanted me gone from the minute we got together.”

  “That’s not true!” Ella had protested, but of course it was true. Weren’t mothers supposed to be happy when their daughters found someone to love?

  “Ella?”

  Her mother’s voice brought her back to the present.

  “I’m sorry. What?”

  Mims shook her head. “Where were you just now?”

  With Jake. “It doesn’t matter.” Except it did. “You know, sometimes I don’t understand why you never gave Jake a chance.”

  Both her mother’s eyebrows shot up. “You must be joking.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Maybe I should go,” Axel said.

  “No, stay. We’re not going to talk about this anymore,” Mims said firmly.

  Ella fell silent. Fine. She wouldn’t talk at all. The waiter arrived with their salads, and she concentrated on the baby greens on her plate.

  Axel tried to step into the breach with talk of plans to tour the California wine country.

  Who cared? Ella broke her vow of silence. “I made a mistake.”

  “It’s a little late to change your order now, baby,” Mims said.

  “No, I mean about Jake.”

  Axel stood. “You know, I’m going to leave you ladies to sort this out.”

  “Oh, Axel,” Mims began.

  “Good idea,” Ella agreed. “Don’t worry about dinner. My mother will pick up the check.”

  Axel nodded and left, and Mims let out an offended huff. “Really, Ella. That was high-handed.”

  “No more high-handed than you inviting him in the first place,” Ella said in a tone of voice she rarely used with her mother.

  “Well, you weren’t seeing that—”

  “Jake. His name is Jake. And what’s Axel got that he hasn’t?”

  “Money, for one thing. Sophistication.”

  “Oh, Mims, he’s a fathead. And he’s controlling. Every time he asked me out it was to something he’d already decided on. I don’t want to be controlled.” Heaven knew she’d been controlled enough growing up. “By anyone,” she added.

  “Are you implying that I control you?”

  She was on a roll now. May as well keep rolling. “You do. Actually, you always have. When I was growing up I never got to pick out my own school clothes.”

  “Of course you did, once you developed some fashion sense.”

  “Any friends you didn’t like you weeded out of my life.”

  “For your own good,” Mims insisted.

  “There was nothing wrong with any of my friends, except that their moms worked at the Sweet Dreams factory or as cashiers in the grocery store.” Mims had nothing to say to that and Ella moved on. “You’re the one who decided I should work for you at the shop.”

  “And why shouldn’t you? You have a flair for clothes.”

  “I have a flair for decorating, too. That’s what I wanted to do.” So she should have spoken up and said so instead of just going along. Well, she was done going along now. It was time to be her own woman.

  “That was ridiculous,” Mims said. “Go work for someone else when we had a family business? Ella, I don’t know what’s gotten into you.”

  “I want to be me. I don’t want to be an imitation you. I want to be happy.”

  “You are happy,” Mims said. “We’re happy. We’ve always been happy, just the two of us.”

  Your mom never wanted to share.

  Jake’s words washed over Ella, a shower of icy reality. He was right. Surely, on some level, she must have known this. Maybe she’d never wanted to see it. Her eyesight was twenty-twenty now. The big question was, what was she going to do with her new, improved vision? Something every grown woman had to do at some point—claim her own life, for better or for worse.

  She took a deep breath. “Mims, you know I love you.”

  “And I love you. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I gave up a modeling career for you.”

  Okay, that didn’t ring true. “You once told me that models burn out early. That you’d already peaked.”

  This made her mother frown. “Well, I hadn’t. I could have done any number of things if we hadn’t moved here.”

  “Then why didn’t you do those things?”

  Mims sat there staring at her. “I…I just didn’t.”

  Ella fell against the seat and stared back at her mother. “You ran away. You ran away from your life.”

  “I did not!” Mims said hotly.

  “You got pregnant and you up and ran away. Why didn’t I ever meet my father?”

  Mims stiffened. “We’ve had this discussion before.”

  “It didn’t work out and I have no idea where he is. That’s a discussion?”

  Mims set her fork down with enough force to break the table. “Really, Ella. What do you want from me?”

  Ella slammed down her fork, too. “My life! And I don’t want it to turn out like yours. I don’t want to end up alone.” Had that just come out of her mouth?

  For a moment, she and her mother sat looking at each other in shocked silence. Finally Mims said, “There’s nothing wrong with my life, and I’m not alone. I have you. We have each other. That man you were with, he was only going to bring you heartache.”

  “Like yours did?” Ella asked softly.

  Mims squirmed in her seat. “I didn’t need him, anyway. You
don’t need a man to be happy, baby, believe me.”

  “Are you all that happy, Mims?”

  Her mother looked at her like she’d uttered some sort of blasphemy. “Of course I am!”

  They fell into another strained silence as the waiter arrived to carry off their salad plates. As soon as he’d left, Ella asked, “Who was he?”

  Mims rolled her eyes. “Oh, not this again. How many times have you asked me that question?”

  About a million.

  “What does it matter? The man’s never been a part of your life.”

  “And why was that?”

  “I’ve told you, we went our separate ways long before he even knew about you.”

  “Maybe he’d like to know about me.”

  Mims shook her head in disgust. “I doubt it.”

  “All you ever told me was that he was a model. Do you have any idea how many magazines I looked through growing up, studying each man, wondering if he could’ve been my father?” And wondering why, with two beautiful people as parents, she hadn’t turned out more beautiful herself. Not that it had mattered after she met Jake.

  “Ella, I’m not having this conversation.”

  Ella sighed. “I’m sorry he hurt you. Did he leave you for someone else?”

  The expression on her mother’s face said it all. “I told you, I’m done talking about this.”

  Some women told the whole world when a man left them, scattered their bitterness like so many seeds. Mims had put up a fence around her past and sown her bitterness inside, where it grew into mistrust. So was it really surprising that she’d been more than ready to believe Jake was cheating on her daughter? Her mother’s mistrust, Ella’s insecurity—what a deadly combination that had been!

  It wasn’t too late for Ella to recover from the ripple effect of her mother’s long-ago liaison but maybe Mims never would. “Oh, Mims. I’m sorry. I’m sorry you were so badly hurt.”

  Now Mims looked like she was going to cry. She reached across the table and laid a hand over her daughter’s. “I got the best part of him when I got you. And everything I’ve done has been for you, so you’d have a stable life.”

  “I did have a stable life,” Ella assured her.

  “And it hasn’t been so bad, has it?”

  “Of course not. But, Mims, I have to live my own life. You know yourself that eventually little girls grow up and leave home. You left home to be a model.”