by Jody Holford
“Let’s get you some dinner. Want some wine?” Kyle as he stood to grab Anna’s plate. She curved her lips but knew she wasn’t smiling. She sat down and allowed Kyle to serve her without a word. Her dad’s hand covered hers and Jordan’s eyes bore into hers with understanding and compassion.
“Wine?” Kyle repeated.
“Yes, please. This is beautiful guys. Thank you for doing this. It’s what I planned to do for you,” she replied hoarsely.
“It’s what family does for each other,” Jordan said. Kyle set her plate down in front of her and the scents overwhelmed her- she was ravenous. Kyle kissed the top of her head, lingered for a few seconds, before returning to Jordan’s side. They ate quietly for several moments.
“I apologize for the scene earlier,” Anna finally said, letting the elephant take a seat at the table. They all looked at her uncertainly.
“You have nothing to apologize for, Anna,” Jordan spoke first. “Couples fight. Things happen. Misunderstandings happen.” Kyle gave her a sharp glare that did not go unnoticed.
“He lied to you. He’s the one at fault,” Kyle said when he turned his gaze on Anna.
“Best to know a man’s measure before things go too far,” her dad said wisely, sipping his wine. Anna placed her fork down, no longer hungry.
“He made a mistake,” Jordan argued.
“Anna has no reason to settle. She deserves the best,” Kyle countered. Jordan’s fork clanged on her plate.
“And what? I settle? Everyone who forgives someone for messing up is settling for less than the best? Perhaps we just solved the mystery as to why the perfect Kyle Meyers remains single,” Jordan spat.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Both of you stop,” David Meyers said in his authoritative voice, “Anna does not need this right now. She needs a good dinner and a good sleep.”
Anna folded her hands in her lap while Jordan and Kyle both mumbled apologies.
“What else do I need, dad?” Anna asked.
“What do you mean, dear?”
“You always seem to know. So I’m wondering if there is anything else I need to make the hollowness in my chest disappear?”
“Anna, I wasn’t suggesting that food would fix your hurt feelings but really, sweetheart, you’ve only known him for a month,” he explained. Anna gripped the cloth napkin in her hands, twisting it.
“Hurt feelings? Are you kidding me?”
“Anna, please. You do not need to pick a fight with me to feel better. I understand that you’re upset. You--”
“Stop telling me what I need! The main reason I moved here was to get away from the overwhelming certainty that you always know the answer!” Anna wailed. She stood up, knocking her chair back, the napkin still tight in her grasp.
“Anna,” Kyle said quietly.
“How long did it take you? To fall in love with mom? To be sure she was the one and that if she wouldn’t go with you or love you back, that part of you would never been the same?” Anna continued.
“How on earth did you…”
“How long? Under a month?”
The question hung between them and Anna felt the anger seep out of her as an expression of hurt crossed her father’s handsome face.
“Yes,” he finally uttered. “Less than a month.”
Anna righted her chair, swiped the tears that had fallen and took a slow, deep breath through her nose.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Her father was looking down at his empty plate while Jordan and Kyle had gone completely silent.
“Dad,” she whispered, this time covering his hand. He looked at her, his eyes melancholy making her stomach churn.
“I don’t want you to be hurt, Anna,” he said, meeting her gaze.
“But it’s not up to you,” she replied gently.
“So, you forgive him?” Kyle asked. Jordan poked his side and “shhh”-ed him.
“Right now? I don’t know Kyle. But I do know that he’s not the only man in my life that has withheld information for what they thought was my own good,” she accused. Anna felt bad when she saw Kyle wince but she’d held onto all of this long enough.
“We don’t lie to you,” Kyle said.
“But you don’t tell her the whole truth,” Jordan chimed in quietly.
“I’ve asked both of you to tell me about mom and you don’t. I’ve asked you not to shield me from everything and you do. I’ve asked you to accept my choices and recognize that I’m capable of making them,” Anna told them, squeezing her dad’s hand.
“We don’t talk about mom because it hurts,” Kyle said softly.
“But it hurts that you got to know her and I didn’t. That you remember and I don’t,” Anna said firmly. Her father’s eyes widened with sadness and regret.
“Anna, your brother has always just done as I’ve asked. We’ve tried to take care of you and keep you from unnecessary pain,” he told her.
“And I love you both for wanting me to be happy and cared for and I’ve never felt otherwise. But I feel…like part of me is missing and you could have given me the missing piece.”
“Is that really why you moved here?” Kyle asked. Anna noticed that Jordan had reached out to take his hand and he held hers within his large palm.
“Partially. It felt right. It felt good. I love it here and I love that mom woke up in this house, drove her parents crazy in this house,” she looked at her father, “fell in love with you in this house.”
He gave a bittersweet smile. She wished for a moment that she hadn’t said anything. The Christmas music continued to play reminding her that they had come here because she’d wanted them to. They might all overstep, but they would do anything for her, as she would for them. She’d been fighting so hard to show them she was independent that she’d forgotten how much she did need them.
“Your mother loved Christmas,” her dad said, breaking the lull. Anna felt the tears flood her eyes again and Jordan smiled widely.
“She did?”
“Mm,” David murmured, his eyes a bit cloudy. “She really did. You’re so much like her in so many ways. I should have told you that.” He stood and pulled Anna to her feet, wrapped his arms around her tightly. She hugged him back while Jordan and Kyle suddenly became very interested in their meals. She leaned back and looked up at her dad, took in the features she shared with him while she wondered about the ones she didn’t.
“You could tell me now,” she suggested. He smiled widely and gave a short laugh.
“Yes, I suppose I could.”
Anna woke to a soft, steady vibrating sound beside her, making her curious enough to turn her head, slowly. Jordan was sprawled beside her, snoring softly. Her clock read 5:45 a.m. Anna had gone to bed before everyone else, her heart bruised, but full from the memories her father and brother had shared as they sat around the tree. Only a few, but it was a start.
Jordan murmured in her sleep, jolted a little, and went back to snoring soft and steady. Anna felt stiff as she sat up, trying not to wake her sprawling bedmate. She didn’t feel sleepy anymore, which wasn’t surprising. She wished she could have slept away the emptiness of missing Sam. As they’d laughed and shared stories the night before, not just of her mom but of them, she’d caught herself, many times, reaching for his hand or looking to see his smile. Then she’d her stomach would turn with the memory of his words and she’d feel foolish all over again.
Restless, Anna moved through her house slowly, absorbing the heavy quiet like a shield. She liked the creaking floors and wondered if her mother had known where not to step when she didn’t want to be heard. She smiled. Both spare bedroom doors were closed and Anna could hear more snoring. She moved into the kitchen and made a cup of tea. Dishes were stacked up, clean on the counter. Grabbing some milk from the fridge, she saw the leftovers piled away neatly. They’d cleaned up everything for her and it hadn’t cost her a bit to accept the help. She was beginning to see that perhaps she’d blurred the line between independent
and obstinate. She felt a lump in her throat but no moisture filled her eyes. She’d cried herself dry.
She sipped her tea and thought of Christmas music. Glancing at the clock on the stove, she decided against it and opted for sitting in the quiet dark with the sparkling lights of her tree. Creeping softly, she moved to the living room and promptly stifled a gasp, barely avoiding tea sloshing on her hands when she stopped short. Sam sat, positioned awkwardly on her couch, head tipped back, one hand on his stomach, the other resting on the arm of the couch, his clothes wrinkled. He was sleeping. She felt fresh tears come to her eyes even while her heart skipped several beats. Her stomach felt like the tea sloshing around in the cup, which she set down with a dull thud. The noise had Sam jolting upright. His eyes cleared almost immediately when he saw her standing there.
“Anna,” he said simply, his voice gravelly, drinking her in with his eyes the way she’d done to him a moment ago. Not that she’d admit it.
“What are you doing here, Sam?” she asked, her own voice quite hoarse. He stood and invaded her space. She thought of moving back but held her ground.
“I wanted you to be the first thing I saw on Christmas morning. I wanted to be the first thing you saw,” he said. He reached to touch her face but she gave him a look that suggested he didn’t. Fortunately, he couldn’t see the way his words affected her heart, which twisted sharply. She broke eye contact and stared at the tree. The lights were already shining magically.
“Can I stay? Can I talk to you?” he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets and taking a step back.
“I have a choice? I don’t know if I can make a decision all by myself,” she considered and saw him flinch from the corner of her eye.
“I made a mistake. I’m not denying it or giving you excuses. I’m asking you for a chance to talk to you and yes, the choice is yours. Tell me to go and I will,” he uttered, looking toward his feet. Anna heaved out a sigh and moved away from the tree to flop herself onto the couch.
“Sit down, Sam.”
He sat close enough that she could have straightened is messy hair with her fingers. She curled them into her palm. She could smell his cologne and feel his warmth. She held her breath and played with the hem of her bright green t-shirt.
“Anna,” he waited. She moved her gaze up to his and she could see the mixture of hurt and regret.
“What?” she whispered, quelling the urge to move toward him by sitting rigidly.
“I love you,” he said. Her heart thudded so hard in her chest she wasn’t sure she could be heard over the sound.
“Sam,” she pleaded. He took her hand and squeezed it tight with both hands.
“I love you. That’s one,” he repeated, his voice stuttering slightly with emotion.
“One what?” she asked, keeping her hand and fingers perfect still and straight within his grasp.
“One truth. The most important one. I love you,” he said again.
“Stop saying it,” she whispered, her eyes filling.
“I can’t. It’s true, Anna. It’s so true I can’t breathe at the thought of you not believing it.”
She stared at the tree. She remembered Kyle telling her once that she could hold off a sneeze by staring at a light and she wondered if it was true of tears as well.
“You’re the strongest woman I know. Your strength comes from inside and shines through you in everything you do. That’s two,” he continued.
“What?”
“Two truths.”
She gritted her teeth so tightly her jaw ached. She tilted her head slightly, breathing out audibly.
“You’re brave. I don’t know anyone as brave as you. You went after your dream even though it meant moving, changing, facing the unknown. It had to be scary but you did it anyway. That’s three.”
Her shoulders were starting to ache with stiffness. Her jaw loosened slightly when she let out a small, whimper sound that would have embarrassed her if she weren’t so focused on staying still.
“You’re nobody’s fool. I know I made you feel foolish because I’m an ass but that was never my intention. I swear to you it wasn’t. I didn’t lie because I thought you were incapable or needed me. I lied because I needed you. Right from the start, I needed to be around your laugh, and your face, your smile, and your huge heart. I was scared you wouldn’t let me in and I know that doesn’t make it okay. The only fool here is me. That’s four,” he said, letting go of her hand. He stood and her shoulders sagged. The breath she’d been holding left her lungs in a gust as he paced in front of the fireplace.
“How many are there?” she asked making him look over and laugh ruefully.
“God you’re sweet,” he marveled and he came back to stand in front of her, looking down at her so earnestly she had to close her eyes.
There was nothing he wouldn’t do to make this right. He kneeled down in front of her, waited for her eyes to open and ignored the wariness he saw when he placed his hands on her legs, situated himself between her legs. She didn’t push him away and her body wasn’t iron stiff the way she’d been a moment ago. He didn’t stifle the burst of hope that flared through his gut all the way up to his heart.
“There are hundreds, Anna. Hundreds of truths about why I love you and how I love you. Only one lie. I don’t know how many truths it takes to make up for a lie, or if you even can, because I’m really not a liar by nature. But however many that number is, I can guarantee, I have enough truths that I will spend my life proving to you. If you let me. If you choose to believe me now,” he told her, not breaking eye contact even though his left eye felt like it was twitching slightly and his heart was pounding. She sniffled, her eyes glassy.
“Four seems like a strange number to stop at,” she murmured and his heart caught so hard in his chest he wondered if that’s how a heart attack felt. He let out a rough laugh that did nothing to soothe the rawness in his throat.
“You’re enchanting. When I see you, my heart actually skips a beat. I didn’t know that could happen in real life but it happens when I see you after a long day. Hell, after a short day. Your smile draws me in like a spell and I get lost just looking into your eyes. It’s more than beauty, which you have physically in spades. It’s like an inner shine. You glow. It dazzles me. That’s five,” his voice broke slightly.
His knees were reminding him of his age but he didn’t move. He was trying not to breathe too deeply because of the pressure that hadn’t left his chest since he’d seen her come around the side of her house the night before. Her eyes were watching him, shiny and immeasurable. His ribs ached from the pounding of his heart. She ran her hand along her thigh toward him, up over his arm, his shoulder, achingly slow, and rested her palm against his cheek. He leaned into her hand, covered it with his, and closed his eyes.
“Tell me the first one again,” she whispered, tears slipping one by one down her cheeks, each waiting their turn.
His shoulders crumpled like paper as he dropped his head down into her lap, all the air in his lungs expelling in one huge burst. He felt her hand move to his hair, her fingers run through it while he gripped her hips with his hands to steady himself. He tried to pull some air back in as he raised his head to meet her gaze. Her bottom lip was tucked in her teeth, her head tilted, as she pulled him forward.
“I love you,” he ground out. “Anna, I am so sorry. I love you so much. I swear to you I will never lie to you about anything ever again.” He moved his hands to her face and tried to keep his hold gentle as he cupped her cheeks. He felt sweat prickle the back of his neck as his heartbeat tried to take on a normal tempo.
“I believe you,” she smiled quietly, hooking both hands on his wrists, her eyes still watery.
“Say it, please. Before my heart busts out of my chest, please,” he begged without shame.
“You’re enchanting.”
“Anna,” he closed his eyes, shaking his head humbly.
“A recovered fool,” she continued, her lips moving into a slight smirk. He gav
e a rough bark of laughter.
“You’re brave.” He shook his head and she stilled him with her hands on his cheeks. He moved his to her wrists. She nodded her eyes clear and steadfast.
“You’re strong.” He gripped her wrists.
“And I love you,” she admitted. His heart had broken free of his ribs. It simply burst and he yanked her toward him, forgetting about gentle, forgetting about anything but Anna.
She couldn’t get close enough to him even when his mouth covered hers roughly, desperately. She matched his desperation, leaning back into the couch as he came closer. A harsh groan rumbled from his chest as he alternated her name with apologies between kisses. He pulled back and smiled at her when she grasped at him, continued to kiss him, tried to fill the space between them like he’d filled the emptiness in her chest.
“Wait,” he sucked in air and she saw for the first time how tired he looked. She ran her hands through his hair, needing to touch him and be close. He’d hurt her, yes, but every word he said had put her back together, piece by little piece, until she fell apart all over again, but in a good way. He let out a slight grunt as he stood, straightened his knees. He pulled her up and kissed her again, soft and slow, pulling her in and drowning her in sweetness.
“Come on,” he said, a boyish grin lighting his face, erasing the fatigue. He took her hand and pulled her toward the door.
“Where are we going,” she laughed.
“It’s a surprise,” he answered, pulling her boots out of the closet, closing it slowly to absorb the noise. He passed them to her, grabbing her jacket as well. Outfitted for the weather, while he stood in his jeans, a long sleeve t-shirt and boots, he shook his head again.
“What?” she whispered. He moved to her and pulled her hood up around her face, kissed the tip of her nose.
“I love you so much it’s almost scary,” he said solemnly. She beamed up at him, her heart catching.
