SYLER MCKNIGHT: A Holiday Tale

by Brent, Cora

  He became abnormally silent.

  Seconds kept passing with no response and finally I dared to take my eyes off the snow and look up. There was just enough light to allow me to see him. He was staring back at me and for all the years we’d known each other I’d never seen this expression on his face, not ever. He was positively stricken.

  “I didn’t know that,” he said and from his tone I believed he was telling the truth. “Katrina, I had no idea.”

  My chin trembled and my eyes watered. The cherry atop this tower of humiliation would be if Syler felt sorry for me.

  I bit the inside of my lip to chase the tears away. “It was a long time ago. And you’re right. It doesn’t matter.”

  I started to run back to the house where I could close myself behind a door and feel like an idiot in secret but he caught me. He wrapped his arms around my body from behind and rested his chin atop my head.

  “We can fix this,” he said, his voice rough with regret. “Tell me how.”

  How easy and how right it would feel to remain there in his arms. But if I did that now then I might not have the resolve to walk away from him if I needed to later. Syler had the power to wreck me and he just might use it. Even unintentionally.

  “Maybe it’s just too hard,” I whispered, remembering what my mother had said about why her marriage to my father had failed.

  “Sometimes people can’t be together even if they love each other. Sometimes it’s just too hard.”

  “Katrina.”

  I felt the air leave his chest. I was hurting him. I didn’t want to hurt him. But I didn’t want us to hurt each other either and I wasn’t sure if we knew how to do anything else.

  I stepped out of his arms and he let me go.

  “Will you keep looking for Beansy?” I asked without turning around.

  He didn’t answer.

  “Syler?”

  “Yes. I’ll keep looking for Beansy. I won’t stop looking until I find her.”

  I nodded and walked back to the house. I half expected broken pieces of my heart to fall out and leave a messy trail behind me in the snow. Maybe they did. I never turned around to check.

  15

  Ryland’s Rocks

  Syler

  It took over an hour of searching in the freezing darkness to locate Beansy. She was finally found sitting atop a random log, calmly posed upright with no idea about all the trouble she’d caused.

  Gemma and the kids were just returning from the town square when I found my way back to the house, half frozen and carrying Beansy in my hand and a new weight of grief in my chest.

  The reunion between Gretel and Beansy was joyous. The hug I received from my grateful little niece was worth the possibility of frostbite.

  My sister and her kids were in such a happy mood that I tried to look happy too. But all the while I kept one eye on Katrina even though she refused to look at me at all. She kept a smile on her face when Chloe and the twins serenaded us with a song that involved a Christmas tree and broccoli. When they finished singing she cheered louder than anyone.

  “Are you sick?” my sister asked, coming over to peer at me with motherly concern.

  Sort of. Sick over old misunderstandings and lost opportunities. Sick because the mistakes of my past might have ruined chances for a future.

  “Nah,” I told Gemma. “Just trying to thaw out.”

  “The tables can wait. Why don’t you come sit by the fire?”

  “I’m good, Gem.”

  She frowned. She knew something was up. And wouldn’t she be astonished to hear what it was.

  Katrina watched us from her position on the couch with the twins. If she worried that I’d spill all our secrets to Gemma or anyone else then she should know better by now.

  “You want me to put all these tables in the garage?” I asked Gemma.

  The worry lines on her forehead smoothed out. “Yeah, that would be great. Thanks, Sy.”

  Then she clapped her hands and reminded the kids that bedtime had passed for three quarters of them. The twins and Chloe bounded upstairs, followed by their mother. Katrina was the last to follow and she climbed the steps slowly, keeping her head down.

  “You want some help?” asked Drew.

  I didn’t really need any assistance moving a few lightweight folding tables but I knew it made the kid feel good to be useful.

  “Sure, buddy. Get that one over there, would you?”

  Drew was in a chatty mood. After we moved all the furniture he wanted to hang out and talk about school and girls and how he was struggling with anger toward his dad.

  We wound up in the kitchen drinking hot chocolate and commiserating over rotten fathers. My own dad had never run off with the high school principal. He’d just run off to go study polar bears and glaciers. Brian McKnight wasn’t a terrible guy. He was just…not around. Moving back to Maple Springs seemed like a better plan all the time. I’d be there for these kids. I wasn’t their father. But at least I’d be around.

  When the kitchen door swung open I stopped breathing, thinking Katrina was about to walk in. Instead Gemma appeared and ordered her eldest son off to bed. Drew offered me an affectionate fist bump before obeying his mother and darting out of the room. Gemma yawned and in traditional big sister fashion told me the same thing she told her son.

  “You too, Syler. You’ve had a long day. Pack it in and get some sleep.”

  I wasn’t in the habit of being ordered off to bed by anyone but I decided to give her a break and play the obedient little brother.

  “I’ll go to bed real soon,” I promised. “Everyone else asleep?”

  “They should be. The little ones were tucked in ages ago and Katrina popped a migraine pill before turning in.”

  “All right. I’ll be quiet. See you tomorrow.”

  “Good night, Sy.” My sister started to leave, then returned to give me a quick hug. “Thanks for finding Beansy. You’re that little girl’s hero tonight.”

  Good to know I was capable of being someone’s hero.

  When Gemma was gone I washed out the hot chocolate mugs and moved to the quiet living room. I stared into the extinguished fire and listened to the ticking of the grandfather clock in the parlor. It was taking every ounce of my self control not to dash upstairs and charge into Katrina’s room.

  “I was crushed.”

  Earlier tonight her confession had just about knocked me flat.

  I never had any clue that after we spent the night together she woke up the next day hoping for more. Katrina had come to my room in search of my brother and sure we’d enjoyed a whole lot of amazingly hot sex but I could swear she forgot all about me the second Ryland stepped back into her line of sight.

  So I did her a favor.

  Or so I thought.

  I pretended like I had nothing more on my mind than my next score. No one who was listening to our breakfast table conversation would guess what the two of us had been up to the night before. I knew I’d been a little over the top with my insults but if Katrina wanted no reminders about how many times I’d made her come then I would cooperate. In the most obnoxious manner possible.

  And all these years later I stood here thinking that if I could redo one moment in time it would be that one. I never would have intentionally hurt Katrina. It killed me to know that I had. For all this time that’s what she’d been thinking of every time she looked at me.

  But what if that morning had gone differently?

  What if I’d pulled her into my lap at the breakfast table and kissed her and admitted how much I liked her?

  Would that have changed anything?

  I was eighteen, technically an adult, but attitude-wise I was still an adolescent idiot. As wild as I was about Katrina, I doubted I would have been capable of carrying on a real relationship.

  That’s thing about ‘what if’ questions. They are pointless.

  Anyway, that was then. This is now.

  And now all I wanted was a chance to show her th
at I’d grown up to be a lot better than her worst memories of me. I wanted to show her that I was redeemable, a flawed but basically decent guy with a heart, and that if she gave me the chance I was asking for then I wouldn’t screw things up this time.

  The cold fireplace offered no sympathy. Not a sound came from upstairs. Nothing was going to be resolved tonight.

  I went to my room, stripped down and stretched out on the bed, feeling miserable as I stared at the dark ceiling. My dreams were fitful. In the most memorable one I’d been reduced to the size of a thimble and was drowning in maple syrup while Katrina looked on with indifference. Weird.

  The morning arrived with no maple syrup tsunamis and a layer of ice atop the snow that had already fallen. I splashed some cold water on my face and threw on some warm clothes. My mind was on Katrina. I hoped to see her when I stepped into the living room.

  But Gemma was alone on the sofa and still in her pajamas with her knees pulled up to her chest. She’d been crying but she wiped her eyes and attempted to smile when I plopped down beside her.

  “Where are the kids?” I asked.

  “Drew’s outside. He insisted on shoveling the front walk. The other three are still in bed.” She shivered. “It’s so cold. They should sleep in.”

  “And Katrina?”

  I could have sworn that was amusement lighting up Gemma’s eyes before she answered.

  “She borrowed my car to go see Annika.”

  “Car hasn’t been stalling anymore, has it?”

  “No.”

  I looked out the window at the wintry landscape. “I’d hate for her to get stuck out there.”

  Gemma made a noise. It sounded like a smothered chuckle. I could be wrong.

  “She’ll be fine, Syler. She has a phone if she runs into any trouble.”

  I nudged her. “You’re upset. Did something happen this morning?”

  Gem wrinkled her nose. “Yeah. A few minutes ago I got off the phone with Russ.”

  I suppressed an outburst of profanity. “What did he want?”

  “Well, it seems like he has decided that he made a mistake.”

  You think so, dickhead?

  “Oh,” I said.

  “He’s asking me to take him back.”

  I had definite feelings about that but the choice was all Gemma’s. I couldn’t interfere. I said nothing.

  Gemma turned to me with her jaw set. “I’m not taking him back, Sy.”

  I exhaled with relief. “Thank god.”

  She swung her legs down and folded her hands in her lap. “I’d never keep the kids from him. But if he wants to come back to Maple Springs he’ll have to move in with his parents or get his own place. He’s never living here again. And I won’t change my mind no matter how much he begs.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I was proud of my sister’s strength, but the outcome sucked no matter what.

  She rolled her head back on the couch. “I can’t believe I’m going to be single. I haven’t been single since I was twenty. It’s just hard, coming to terms with the fact that my marriage is really over.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  Gemma looked at me. “Can I tell you something?”

  “Of course.”

  She sat up straighter and thought for a moment before speaking. “I love my kids. I love my life. But sometimes I wonder why I married Russ. It wasn’t a very logical move, was it? We McKnights are supposed to be logical.”

  “You fell in love,” I said, echoing words that were said long ago on a late summer afternoon as I looked at the girl I wanted more than anything and wished she’d take a good look at me.

  “Yeah, I did fall in love,” she said, musing with a rueful smile. “And it really was good between us, for a while. But then, little by little, it wasn’t.”

  “I’m really sorry, Gem.”

  “That’s the thing. I’m not sorry. Don’t get me wrong, if Russ was here I’d be tempted to hurl one of Gloria’s prized ceramic vases at his head. But I’m not sorry I married him, even knowing it ended up like this. I got four amazing kids out of the deal.”

  “You do have the best kids.”

  My sister was examining me. “Have you ever been in love, Syler?”

  “Not that I can recall.”

  “Do you love Katrina?”

  I must have been unable to hide my shock. Gemma laughed long and hard.

  “You two.” She giggled so hard her tears returned. “You both think I’m blind.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I scoffed.

  But Gemma wasn’t about to stop. She was jubilant. “Neither of you have the slightest talent for hiding your feelings.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? Did you hit your head?”

  She was smug. “It’s only grown more obvious over the years.”

  “Obvious to everyone but me apparently.”

  Gemma threw a couch pillow at me. “Come off it. I know you’re crazy about Katrina and vice versa. I figured it was only a matter of time before nature took its course.”

  I had no more fake objections left in the tank.

  “I’ll be damned,” I muttered.

  My sister poked me in the arm. “You should tell her how you feel. This might be your best chance. Take it.” She wagged a finger at me. “That’s excellent big sister advice.”

  I could have dipped into my reservoir of smartass comments. There was no shortage of them.

  Instead I swallowed and practiced a little humility. “I’ll take that under advisement.”

  “You do that, little brother. Hey, how cold do you think it is in the Arctic Circle?”

  “Spectacularly cold. It probably hurts to talk. At least The Units can keep each other warm.”

  “And maybe Ryland’s enjoying the holidays cozying up to some rocks in the Badlands,” she mused.

  “We can only hope.”

  The front door opened and Drew busted in with a giant grin on his face. “Check out who I found outside.”

  I tensed, expecting Katrina to come waltzing through the door for the sole purpose of taking my breath away.

  But it wasn’t Katrina.

  Gemma screamed, possibly with shock. “Ryland!”

  Our older brother strolled in with a dusty looking green duffel bag slung over one broad shoulder, like a soldier returning from war.

  “Holy shit.” It was the first response that popped into my head.

  Ryland gave us a sheepish grin. “Hey guys. Merry Christmas.”

  “I can’t believe you’re here!” Gemma was off the couch and sprinting over to him. He set his duffel bag down so he could meet her hug.

  Ryland was always something of an enigma. He was two years older than Gemma, four years older than me. He’d sailed through high school and college at an early age and moved onto more adult pursuits while others his age were popping pimples and learning how to drive.

  We’d never been the kind of brothers who wrestled on the floor and got into all kinds of mischief together. We were the kind of brothers who circled one another with suspicion and hardly ever agreed about anything. I thought he was boring and stuffy. He thought I was an asshole. And that’s just how it was with us.

  He and Gemma were done hugging so I got up off the couch to participate in the Ryland welcoming committee. Gem was obviously shocked to see him here so she wasn’t in the loop. I wondered if he’d told anyone he was coming. I wondered if he’d told Katrina.

  Ryland nodded at me. “How’s it going, Sy?”

  I nodded back at him. “Not bad, and you?”

  “Can’t complain.”

  Four years had passed since we were in the same room and we seldom spoke.

  My brother and I sort of stared at each other uneasily for a second before proceeding with the most stiffly awkward handshake in history.

  Then we each took a step back, acting exactly like the strangers we were.

  16

  Wolves and Giraffes

  Katrina<
br />
  Knocking on my mother’s door was always exciting. You never knew what level of weirdness you’d be confronting. With all the animals, troubled painters and other assorted guests, the experience promised to be interesting if nothing else.

  She was always awake before dawn so I wasn’t concerned about the early hour. An Acura with rental plates was parked in front of the stone house and I couldn’t imagine who had placed it there but I shrugged, figuring it must belong to one of Annika’s friends.

  I gave three taps to the brass doorknocker and braced myself for the sight of partially undressed Dustin.

  The door opened.

  “Hi kiddo,” said a man who looked exactly like Levi Feldman. Same face, same black hair threaded with silver, same booming voice that both captivated or annoyed audiences across the country. The fluffy red robe monogrammed with an A that he wore was a new addition. It had been a present from me. To my mother.

  “DAD?” Surely I’d fallen into a wormhole. There was no other explanation.

  He reached out and wrapped me in a gruff hug before moving back and gesturing with his coffee mug.

  “Don’t just stand there and freeze,” he ordered. “Get inside.”

  Feeling bewildered beyond reason, I followed him into the stone house and found a very cozy scene. A fire blazed in the fireplace and inches away, Rita Hayworth slept on a large floor pillow. Danielle perched on the arm of a rocking chair and squawked shrilly in greeting. My mother was curled up on the sofa, apple cheeked and sipping tea, her white blonde hair flowing over her red pajamas. She was delighted to see me.

  “Katrina, I didn’t know you were coming over this morning. Levi, did you know Katrina was coming?”

  He took a seat beside her. “No honey, I didn’t.”