by Jody Holford
“Be nice guys. Don’t throw snowballs at her until she’s ready,” Sam warned Brianna and Nick as Anna, the Michelin Woman, made her way through the snow to join them on his front lawn. The snow was perfect. The kind that made hours pass without notice. Anna gave a half- smile and his heart pinched in response. He hadn’t seen her in a few days, since his “engagement” and he was surprised by the amount he’d missed talking to her and sharing his day or a pizza.
“Who do you have here?” she asked, finally joining them. Her cheeks were already rosy and he’d bet that she burned easily in the sun. Nick stepped forward, one hand behind his back, the other straight out toward Anna.
“I’m Nick. Are you ready?”
“Nick—”
“I’m Anna and yes, I suppose… Oh!” she gasped when the snow hit her in the face and Sam stepped forward to wring his adorable nephew’s neck when Anna’s laughter broke through the silence of the snow. She pushed it out of her face with her bright pink gloves and pursed her lips, gave Nick a look, then looked over at Brianna. Sam started to apologize and make Nick do the same.
“Oh no. It doesn’t work like that, Sam,” she said sternly and he pictured her talking to a class of kids. She looked at Brianna. “You’re Brianna, I presume.” Brianna nodded a bit shyly.
“Well, Brianna, your brother has declared war and I’m going to need a partner,” Anna said very seriously. Nick giggled and Brianna’s face broke out in a wide grin.
“Cool!” Brianna concluded and started gathering snow. Anna pretended to charge Nick and he screamed and ran behind Sam’s legs as Sam moved backward slowly, hands up in a mock defeat gesture.
“C’mon. He’s just a kid,” Sam laughed. Anna scooped snow and patted it into a ball like an expert.
“But you, you’re not a kid,” she said sweetly, packing the snow. Brianna was making a pile of tidy white balls. Nick was giggling wildly, urging him to “Get her Oncle Sam.”
“No. But I’m a good neighbor. A good friend. No reason to start something you can’t finish,” he warned teasingly. He saw the hint of challenge brighten her face and her green eyes glinted.
“Can’t finish huh?” With that, she tossed the snowball with surprisingly efficient aim and got him right in the face, hard. Then she laughed and, like a good soldier, knew when to retreat. She ran back to Brianna to gather more ammunition as he wiped his face, strategized with Nick and they prepared to “cream the girls”.
Lying flat on his back, Nick beside him with enough energy left apparently to make snow angels, Sam heaved out a breath. They’d called it even. He shouldn’t have been surprised by the fight in Anna as she and Brianna had matched every snowball he and Nick had thrown. They’d also managed a sneak attack when Brianna pretended to have to pee and came around the other side of his house and dumped snow on them while Anna had distracted them. Now, they’d each retreated to their lawns, he with Nick and she with Brianna. He could hear Brianna giggling but didn’t have the energy to get up.
Melissa’s SUV turned into his driveway just as he pulled himself into a sitting position. Both kids went running to her as she got out of the car. She scooped them up, narrowly escaping slipping. Anna got up and brushed herself over and he gestured her over. He noticed she kept her distance.
“How were they?” Melissa asked, casting a curious glance toward Anna.
“Awesome as always, except that Nick incited a war,” Sam laughed. Anna moved a bit closer, but before he could introduce her, Brianna spoke up.
“Mom, this is Anna. Her name is in my name,” she exclaimed. Melissa laughed and held out her hand. Anna shook it and smiled that smile that made him forget they were standing in the cold.
“Melissa. Sam’s mentioned you a few times,” she said, shooting him a glance that said clearly he’d left out the part where she was beautiful.
“And you. All of you actually,” she returned, smiling at the kids. The kids went to toss a few more snowballs while Melissa complained about the crowds in the mall.
“Serves you right for going back there,” he interrupted. The women shared a glance that suggested he was the crazy one.
“He does NOT!” Nick yelled, grabbing the attention of all three adults immediately.
“Does too,” Brianna taunted.
“Hey. Nicky, don’t yell at your sister, baby. What’s going on?” Melissa asked as Nick stomped over to Sam and looked up at him, little fists on his hips.
“Bri says you gots a foncy,” he accused.
“Fi-an-cee, silly,” Brianna corrected wisely. Oh man. How had that happened? Melissa gaped at him, Anna looked confused. Sam wondered if they’d notice if he just turned and walked away.
“You have a fiancée?” Melissa yelled, forgetting her warning to Nick.
“Anna told me,” Brianna said smugly to Nick.
“Do you?” Nick asked.
“Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry, Sam. Was it a secret? We were just chatting,” Anna cried, gesturing to Brianna. His head was spinning. They were all talking over each other. He whipped his head back and forth between them as they continued to ask “What?” “When?” “Why?” and dole out apologies: “I’m so sorry!” Both Anna and Melissa looked like they were going to cry and Brianna and Nick had gone silent.
“Stop! I don’t have a fiancée. No fiancée, no girlfriend. Nothing! It was a misunderstanding!” he shouted into the fray of voices. They all turned toward him, Anna’s tears escaping down her red cheeks, Melissa holding back and the kids looking contrite. Melissa took a deep breath and crouched down.
“Just a misunderstanding, babies. That’s all. Of course Uncle Sam isn’t getting married. He values his life too much to get engaged without talking to mama first,” Melissa said soothingly, pulling them both close.
“Sorry Uncle Sam,” Brianna and Nick said in unison, making him feel like a complete ass. He picked them both up, kissed their cheeks.
“Not your fault guys. Mine. I love you. We’ll play again next week okay? I’ll come build a fort with you at your house.”
Melissa started to say something but closed her mouth and gave him a this-conversation-isn’t-over look. He was afraid to turn around and face Anna. They all said sullen goodbyes and Sam heard Nick just as they were about to get in the car.
“Mommy, what’s a foncy?”
Anna would have laughed if she didn’t feel so horrible. What a mess. Sam couldn’t even look at her and all because she’d opened her stupid big mouth and asked Brianna if she was excited about Sam’s fiancée being her new auntie. They’d been hit with several snowballs at that exact moment and though she’d noted the girl’s odd look, she’d let it go to retaliate against the boys. Sam turned and she wiped her tears while mentally bracing herself for his anger.
“Anna,” he looked devastated as he closed the distance between them. Her chest tightened and she couldn’t breathe at the look of sadness on his face.
“Oh, Sam. I’m so sorry,” she said again biting the inside of her cheek. She refused to cry again. He put his arms around her and she hugged him hard. He rested his cheek on hers and she couldn’t help but marvel at how understanding he was being about her just tossing his private information out there.
“You’re sorry? No, Anna, all of this is my fault. I’m sorry. So sorry,” he returned, looking down at her with those sea blue eyes that made her stomach feel like she’d just gone too fast over a bump. He looked so sad and in a flash, it made sense.
“You broke up with her. Oh my goodness! You broke off the engagement,” she muttered. She had a moment of guilt but reminded herself that all her wishing that he would dump Sierra couldn’t be responsible for the split.
“What? No,” he said shaking his head, moving back but continuing to grip her arms.
“Oh, Sam. She broke up with you?” Anna asked incredulously. Sam dropped his arms, stalked away from her, and then stalked back. She could see his breath on the air and shivered.
“Everything just got mixed up. What a me
ss. Anna, I’m so sorry,” he said, looking at her with such regret that her heart felt like it might stop. Sierra was nowhere near good enough for him but she didn’t want him to be suffering like this. She moved to him.
“Stop. Stop it right now, Sam. You were too good for her. To be perfectly honest, I didn’t like her one bit,” she defended, this time putting her hands on his arms. He stared down at her in surprise. “Oh. I hope you don’t get back together now that I’ve said that.” He shook his head and he looked appalled at the very thought. Her heart was slowing in tempo and she moved toward him with a feeling she recognized as relief. Undeserved relief.
“Anna,” he repeated, not hesitating to wrap his arms around her tightly. She could feel his breath on her cheek, so warm in contrast to the air.
“Are you okay?” she asked leaning back only enough to look up at him.
“Yes. I’m fine, I swear but, we need to talk,” he said. She shook her head. She knew that over the past few weeks there’d been more than just a friendly connection with each other. She hoped with all her heart that she played no part in any of this.
“No. Not now. I’m so sorry Sam. You don’t have to go through all of this now,” she said, feeling miserable. She thought of her last break-up and remembered Jordan showing up with three different flavors of ice cream. Sam ran his hands through his hair and stepped back.
“You need ice cream,” she declared.
“What?”
“We’re friends, right?” She saw his lips curl up when he heard his own words.
“Yes.”
“Friends don’t let friends go without ice cream during break ups,”
His smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. He sighed heavily and her heart pinched. She walked to him, her heart ready to burst out of her ribcage and framed his face with her hands.
“Anna,” he groaned.
“Shh. Tonight, no talking. Ice cream and movies. That’s it,” she soothed. He closed his eyes, covered her hands with his, and breathed in sharply when she kissed his icy cheek. Taking a shaky sounding breath, he looked down at her; eyes unreadable gave a quick nod.
“I’m not watching a chick flick,” he stated abruptly, letting her take his hand and lead him into her house while she accidently let him into her heart more than she’d intended.
Chapter Eight
“Yes mom, I will be there,” Sam sighed, fiddling with the blueprints in front of him. Tucking the phone into his neck, he made a couple notes.
“Don’t sound so happy about it,” Maria Gardner replied dryly. “Still sad about your broken engagement, dear?”
He tossed the pencil and pushed the blueprints away, grateful his mother couldn’t see the glare he was giving her through the phone.
“Very funny. I see Melissa and her big mouth already got to you,” he grumbled. He pushed back from his desk and wandered to the kitchen.
“She may have mentioned that there was some confusion and that your attractive next door neighbor believed you were betrothed,” she admitted, not even trying to disguise the laughter in her voice. He grabbed a pop from the fridge, popping the top and taking a gulp before answering.
“It was a mix up. Anna’s…skittish of men,” he said, frustrated because that didn’t sound right.
“Was she abused?” his mother asked, all joking gone from her voice.
“Jesus. No. It’s not like that. Sorry,” he replied instantly. “She’s daddy’s little girl. Her mom died when she was young and her dad and brother have done everything for her.”
“Oh, so she’s spoiled,” his mom deduced. He clenched his hand and the pop can crinkled loudly.
“No. She’s the farthest thing from spoiled you can imagine. She’s independent and sweet and just wants people to believe she’s capable. To believe in her,” he answered.
“Hmm,” his mother murmured. His neck hair stood up.
“Hmmm, what?”
“Hmm, it sounds like you’re quite taken with her but I still don’t see why she believed you to be engaged.” Sam rolled the pop can across his forehead, the dent in the can scratching him before he removed it.
“I just…because I’m an idiot. She was all stand-offish because she thought I was making a move on her and so I said I had a girlfriend and she seemed to relax and then I was going to tell her and sh—stuff got mixed up when a client dropped off some papers. It just blew up before I could fix it. Now she thinks I’m dealing with a broken engagement.”
He flopped down on his couch, put his feet on the table and grabbed the remote.
“You want to fix it?”
“Well, yeah” he said easily, flicking channels. “I…like her. A lot. But she doesn’t like information being withheld. Especially to protect her or whatever.”
“First of all, honey,” his mother said in her about-to-lecture voice, making him sigh, “no woman, or man come to think of it, likes information withheld. Most people like to make their choices, for themselves, knowing all of the facts. Secondly, the longer you wait, the harder it will be to fix things. It sounds like you like her quite a bit.”
Sam didn’t deny it but he did get off the phone with his mom shortly after she reminded him he was a good man and everything would work itself out. Tossing the remote onto the coffee table with a thud, he leaned his head back against the couch. Normally he loved Saturdays but he couldn’t settle today. His skin felt too tight for his body and his stomach felt cramped. Even drawing hadn’t soothed him but he figured he might as well try again.
Hauling himself up off the couch, he went back to his office where he was sketching out designs by hand for an addition to his mom’s pantry, her Christmas present. She’d been asking him for a couple years, which had gone by faster than he’d known they would. He’d already arranged for one of the contractors at work to start on it after the holidays. He tried to focus on the design without letting his mind wander to a couple nights ago. Anna had refused to let him talk, fed him seriously good ice cream and sat just close enough that the smell of her skin could intoxicate him while they watched a chick-flick that she insisted was not a chick-flick.
Anna had done something she wasn’t proud of; something she hadn’t told her father or brother. Growing up, they’d tried to shield her, protect her, make her life as easy, as hurt-free as possible. She loved them for it but she’d never asked for them to do any of those things. In doing so, she’d always felt like she’d lost her mother more than once. She lost her when she’d died, taking what few memories Anna had with her and she lost her every time her father or brother hid something from her that they didn’t feel like she was strong enough to know. They’d somehow thought that if her mother wasn’t discussed or remembered, it would hurt less. The opposite was true and she grew up longing to catch any snippet of conversation, a little tidbit of knowledge, an unexpected photograph with a story attached.
She’d come across such a thing while she’d been cleaning one of the sprawling rooms in her father’s estate. During a time when she’d felt lonely and at loose ends, she’d moved back in with her father under the guise of caring for his home while he worked. He’d agreed eagerly because all he ever really wanted was his little girl under his roof where he could protect her from the evils of the world. She’d overheard her father telling a family friend once that he ‘might not have been able to save his beloved Sophia, but he could certainly keep their little Anna safe’. She didn’t want his shelter- she wanted to know who she was, completely, which meant knowing where she came from.
She fingered the green, leather-bound journal in front of her as the fireplace flickered and the tree cast rainbow shadows about the room. She’d found it along with others in boxes that had been stored after her mother’s death. She’d already poured through them so many times that she worried the pages would rip. These words, these pages were the very core of who her mother had been, who’d she grown into, and who Anna had grown to miss deeply. She hadn’t told her father she’d taken them. Truthfully, she thought
he’d forgotten about them and to remind him would likely bring out his ever present desire to protect Anna from memories he thought she’d find hurtful. Instead, reading the diaries brought her a sense of satisfaction, of completion of who she was and who she wanted to be. They connected her to her mother, something her father and brother had failed to realize she needed more than babying or protection.
Opening to a page she’d dog eared long ago, her eyes grew wet with tears.
December 23, 1979
I’m so glad school is out for another week. I’ve wrapped everything and can’t wait for David to open his gift. It’s a photo of me holding a sign I made that says ‘yes’. I’m scared, so scared, to leave this town but I’m also more ready than I’ve ever been. With the plant closing down and mom and dad considering moving anyway, I’m hoping that softens the blow. I asked David to stay until after Christmas and said I’d decide by January 1st, 1980 if I could spend my life with him but I knew the minute he asked that I could. I am so absolutely full of love for him that I can’t see straight. Nothing will make sense without him so there’s certainly no sense staying behind when he goes. Last night we sat by our tree (he’d come by after mom and dad had gone to bed) and talked about what life could be like. He’ll keep working for his father and we’ll have babies and I’ll be such a good mom. This could be the last time I write a journal entry as Sophia Anna Morton. Very soon and for the rest of forever, I will be Sophia Anna Meyers.
