by Scott, D. D.
She threw her hands up. “Come on, that guy was nothing. Just a fling, a mistake. You’re the one I want, Zane. You know that. You’ve always been the one I want.” Meredith pushed her lower lip out like a child, something Zane found neither cute nor amusing.
“It’s not about that. I don’t care that you cheated on me. Actually, I’m grateful. I shouldn’t have been with you in the first place. Your cheating just gave me the push I needed to finally end a relationship that, frankly, was headed nowhere. You gave me the push I needed to stop being a coward and go for what I’ve really wanted this whole time.”
The image of Wynn’s face came to him like a dream, her soft smile and bright eyes. He wished she were there. He wished he had never started dating Meredith all those years ago and instead told Wynn how he really felt about her—that despite their year of friendship and one short date, he had fallen for her.
He loved the way she tucked her hair behind her ears, the flush of pink to her cheeks when they spoke. The way she smiled made his heart stop. And her laugh. He would do anything to hear it again, to be the one to make her laugh day-in and day-out. But after their brief night out, by the time he had mustered up the courage to tell her how he felt, he was greeted with the news that she had started dating somebody else. She had been with him ever since, leaving Zane heartbroken and wondering what he could have done differently. After a few short weeks, he relented and gave into Meredith’s persistence and asked her out.
Zane shook his head. He wouldn’t give in to her again. Turning, he set his beer on the same table which held Wynn’s half empty glass of wine. “Goodbye, Meredith.” Without another glance, he shoved his hands in his pockets and strode out of the room, leaving a gaping Meredith behind.
* * *
Zane operated the next day on little sleep. It was Christmas Eve and the prospect of the looming holiday was no more pleasing to him than a root canal. His usual excitement of spending the day with his siblings and his parents left him disheartened. Every other year he had been able to watch his brothers, happy with their wives by their sides, sipping coffee in their pajamas and watching their children tear through presents with contentment and glee. But this year, he could no longer pretend. He could no longer pretend that they didn’t have something he wanted, that he was happy alone or in a meaningless relationship. He was sick of the pats on the back and the congratulations when they spotted Meredith, her face painted up, wearing tight jeans and knee length, leather boots. They were the lucky ones—retiring for the night with their wives at their side, happy with the knowledge that they had found their soul mate and someone to actually share a life with rather than just live through one with.
Clad in his navy blue bath robe, Zane shuffled across the cool tile floor, to the refrigerator. He opened it up, peering at the contents inside. Cold air escaped as he continued to hold the door open, struggling to focus. Instead of surveying the food, his mind moved to Wynn and his wasted hope that this was going to be the year he finally told her how he felt. Her easy demeanor in these past weeks, combined with Gemma’s hints she was finally single, led him to the hope she was available. Regardless of her status, Zane had made up his mind. He was going to ask her out and tell her how he felt.
So much for that. The image of Wynn the night before, leaving the party without even so much as a glance back in his direction, weaved itself through his mind.
He pushed a jar of pickles aside, along with a half-eaten sandwich wrapped in cellophane and covered in a furry black film. His stomach rumbled, emphasizing his neglect to eat breakfast or lunch and the apparent lack of food in his apartment. Looks like he’d have to go to his parent’s house tonight, there would be no waiting until tomorrow. Either that, or starve. Or worse yet, go grocery shopping. He’d rather have a lobotomy than go shopping anywhere on Christmas Eve. It seemed he’d have to endure an extra day with the happy couples.
He closed the refrigerator door and glanced at the Styrofoam to-go boxes lining his counters containing left over desserts from the party the day before. He walked over to one, pulling a fork out of a drawer and opened the first container to reveal a thick slice of Pumpkin Pie. A large bite had him grimacing at the texture and flavor as he moved the custard around his mouth. Despite his hatred for all things pumpkin, it reminded him of Wynn—thus his reason for eating it. He was hopeless.
He took a final bite and chewed. “What the f—” Zane’s hand shot up to his jaw at the sharp pain. He opened his mouth and removed the hard object.
A ring. He rinsed it off under the tap and instantly recognized the large Opal as being the ring that consistently decorated Wynn’s left hand. He moved it between his fingers, taking in its bulk. The ring wasn’t right for her—not delicate enough. He turned it over, checking the inside of the band and found what he was looking for, an inscription which read: “To Wynn, love Kevin.” Creative. Zane smirked.
He placed the ring down on the counter and stared at it. The rational thing to do would be to wait until Tuesday and return it to her at the bakery, after the holidays. But the thought of the impending evening with his brothers popped into his head and had him dialing his phone. He called Mark from work, the guy Gemma had flirted with at the party, apologizing for the inconvenience. His efforts paid off, when he confirmed that, sure enough, he had gone home with Gemma’s number.
Even as uncertainty wracked his mind, he forced down his nerves and called Gemma. He insisted he had something that was left behind at the party which couldn’t wait to be returned. Ten minutes later, he had showered and dressed. A five o’clock shadow stared back at him in the mirror, but he didn’t want to waste time shaving, so he ignored it and quickly styled his hair instead.
He arrived at Gemma’s apartment in less than fifteen minutes, wondering what to say and not entirely sure of why he was even there. She let him in, her face masked with annoyance.
“So, what prey tell do you have that you just had to return on Christmas Eve…” She glanced back at the clock hanging above the stove in her pristine kitchen. “At six o’clock in the evening.”
Zane pushed his way past her towards the kitchen. “I found this in my pie.” He held out the ring, cool in the palm of his hand, as if it were an explanation for everything.
“O-k-a-y. Congratulations.” Gemma looked at him like he was stupid.
“It’s Wynn’s.”
Gemma rolled her eyes. “I know whose it is. So, what? It’s useless to her now. She doesn’t need it. You can leave it here though if you like. I’ll give it to her.”
“Why doesn’t she need it?” Zane said, pulling the hand which held the ring into his chest as if Gemma were about to take it. Suddenly, the piece of jewelry felt more substantial.
“Because her and Mr. Pecker are no longer together. I figured you knew that, which is why you upped your game recently.” Gemma’s bare feet made padding noises on hardwood floor, as she strode into the kitchen.
Zane ran a hand through his thick, dark hair, exasperated. “Mr. Who?”
Sighing, Gemma waved her hand. “Never mind him. You and Wynn have always been flirty, but lately, I don’t know…It just seemed like you knew she was single or something. You guys look at each other like you’re love sick. It’s really rather nauseating to witness.”
Zane put his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the refrigerator as Gemma poured herself a glass of wine, not bothering, he noticed, to offer him some. “I just don’t get it. I thought so too…that she was into me, I mean. Or maybe I just hoped. Yesterday, at the party, everything seemed fine, but then, boom, she turned cold and left. I don’t get it,” he said, shaking his head.
“I knew it!” Yelling, Gemma pointed a finger at him.
“Knew what?”
“That you were just as into her as she’s into you.” Gemma smiled, her expression smug.
“She’s into me then?” He moved forward, only a foot away from Gemma. Hope seared through his words, nearly burning a hole in them.
&nbs
p; “Of course,” she said in the same tone she would have used for: “duh?”
The confirmation that Wynn had feelings for him had Zane’s heart knocking against his ribs. “Why’d she leave like that then?”
“Let’s see, maybe it had something to do with the 5’10” one hundred fifteen pound waif in the tight, black dress.” Gemma took a sip of wine, waiting for his response.
Zane frowned. “Meredith? She’s my ex. I broke up with her three months ago. Lately, she’s been trying to sneak her way back into my life, but it’s not going to happen. How did Wynn know…?” Zane trailed off, hoping Gemma would provide him with some insight.
Sighing, Gemma set her glass down, suddenly serious. “I knew you weren’t together. I could just tell. And then when you showed up at the party without her, I was convinced. My guess is the moment Wynn saw her, she made her exit. She looks for any excuse not to leave herself open to you.”
Zane held the ring in his palm and stared at it. “Why?”
“Wynn’s hard to figure out because she doesn’t open up much. You have to really know her. She doesn’t think she’s good enough. She’s scared because she really cares about you, and I think, deep down, she knows she’d be in for a world of hurt if it didn’t work out. I think she’s scared to even admit what she really wants because she thinks it’s never going to happen.”
“We need to find her.” The muscles in Zane’s jaw flexed. “I need to talk to Wynn.”
Gemma shook her head and planted her feet. “No, she could be anywhere. You don’t understand. Wynn has a huge family, and she visits almost all of them. And if I know her, she’s wallowing away after last night, which means she spent the day baking and is now off to deliver the goods to her millions of family members. It’ll be impossible to find her.”
Zane took a step closer to Gemma. He held his hands out toward her. “Do you know where her family lives? The places she goes?”
“Of course. I’ve known her for almost fifteen years.”
Zane took the wine out of Gemma’s hand and placed it on the counter. With pleading in his eyes, he clasped her hands. “I don’t care how long it takes to find her. I don’t want another second to go by without telling her how I feel. Please. You want her happy, don’t you?”
Gemma scoffed. “You play dirty. So much for my night of wine and solitude.”
Zane waited while Gemma changed into a pair of jeans and a sweater then donned a puffy black coat filled with down and a pair of black snow boots. Glancing at her outfit, his brows raised in question.
“What? I hate the cold…and the snow.” She moved towards the door as she slipped on a black, fleece hat. “Oh, and it would be really cliché of me to say that if you end up hurting my best friend, I’ll grab your genitals and slowly rip them off, so I won’t. I won’t even mention how much pain you’d be in or how gruesome it would be. I won’t mention it—not at all.”
Zane spoke through his smile. “I always liked you, Gemma.”
Chapter Six
Soft flames flickered and licked around the fresh logs, emitting heat into the already warm room. Wynn stared into them, amidst the roar of laughter behind her. Taunts of her friends amongst her brother’s boasting trickled through the room with the delicacy of a bull. Her mind was in another place other than the room filled with people and the competitive game of Catch Phrase ensuing behind her.
“Wynn, come on. It’s your turn. Get over here.” Her brother, Jim, yelled across the room, flailing his hands.
Wynn turned to the crowd huddled together on the large leather sectional and forced a smile on her face. She moved to the end of the couch and sat next to her sister-in-law, Christie.
Screwing up her face, Christie spoke softly out of the side of her mouth so only Wynn could hear. “Good thing you came over quick. Jim’s in full blown competitive mode now. If we don’t get this one, watch out. That bulging vein in his head is gonna bust.”
Wynn snorted. Christie was right. Jim stood toe-to-toe with his best friend, game face in place, concentrating on the clues to the key words being flung at him like Frisbees. The sleeves of his dark blue sweater with knitted reindeer across the front—the ones her mother unfailingly purchased for him every year—were pushed up to his elbows. His navy pants and sandy hair were rumpled, a result of rubbing excited hands over their once smooth surface.
When the buzzer sounded and Jim had yet to guess the correct phrase, he swiped a hand through the air. “Shit!” He plopped down on the couch next to his wife, who soothed him with mock sympathy.
With a nudge, Christie whispered, “So, where’s Kevin? Are you guys not dating anymore?”
“No. We broke up about two months ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. You two were together a long time.”
Wynn shook her head. “Don’t be sorry. It was for the best, actually. You wanna know the worst part?”
“What’s that?” Concern flashed in Christie’s eyes.
“I don’t even miss him. It’s Christmas, and I don’t even miss him.”
“I think that says something.”
Nodding, Wynn turned to her. “The other day, Gemma told me that I jumped into a relationship with him because it was safe. And you know…she was right. I didn’t need to worry about getting hurt because he wasn’t right for me, and I knew it. I wasted my time with him.”
Christie’s hands, smooth and warm, gripped Wynn’s and squeezed. “I’m so sorry, honey. But at least you realize it now, right? You’re free to move on and find someone really special.”
Disappointment gripped Wynn’s heart, as a picture of Zane flashed through her mind.
Tilting her head, Christie peered into Wynn’s eyes. “There is already somebody, isn’t there?”
Sadness swept over the delicate plains of Wynn’s face, but before she could answer, her brother shouted for Christie. In seconds, the pair was wrapped up in the game again, leaving Wynn alone with her thoughts.
Unable to sit still, Wynn got up and retrieved something to drink. Her gaze moved across the room. From her brother and sister-in-law, to the other friends that typically shared in the annual Christmas Eve party—she was the only single person there. She took in their smiling faces, the warm glow of their skin and contented expressions as they glanced at each other, and her stomach sank.
Suddenly, the Coke in her hand fell flat on her tongue when she drank. She no longer wanted to run from the person or things she really desired; but was it too late for her? Wynn was tired of excuses. She was tired of running. Most of all, she was sick of the picture of the tall blond Zane was with at the mall—the one that showed up at the Christmas party. Her image kept flashing through her mind at regular intervals like some cruel form of self-imposed torture. She needed to accept that she screwed up. Maybe it was too late. He was with someone—a gorgeous someone she had no chance against.
The vague sound of someone calling Wynn’s name, registered somewhere in the back of her mind, but she couldn’t seem to focus. Perspiration beaded the top of her forehead. The room was too warm and the walls too close. She watched her sister-in-law lean over and whisper something into her brother’s ear. His eyes lit up and he chuckled before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on her mouth. Wynn’s stomach churned. She needed air, a change of scenery. Unable to take being in a room full of couples any longer, she jumped up, ignoring the questioning looks everyone gave her as she started to leave the room.
“Wynn, where you going? We’re just getting started,” her brother called after her.
She raised her hand in the air behind her without turning around. “Sorry, but I just have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Wynn grabbed her coat out of the hall closet, suppressing the urge to sprint outside and ignoring her brother’s protests behind her. She left the house in a flurry of movement, inhaling the clean, fresh scent of the frigid air and falling snow. The cold seeped through her booted feet, leaving behind gaping holes in the snow with every step. With one cli
ck, the keys in her pocket, served as her escape. She got in her car and leaned her forehead against the steering wheel, recognizing the sting behind her eyes and ache in her throat as oncoming tears. She bit her lip and willed them back. She was being ridiculous. Zane was never hers. She had to forget about him.
She sat up, determined to salvage the night, but doubtful it was possible to revive her melancholic mood. Turning, she eyed the tins decorated with snowmen and jolly Santa’s filled with cookies, pies, and cakes, sitting in the backseat. She still had several places to stop before she ended at her mother’s house for the night. Sighing, she decided her Uncle Leroy’s place would be the most upbeat—partially due to the fact that it would contain the most alcohol.
Chapter Seven
Swoosh. Swoosh. Zane’s wipers worked in overdrive as he drove too quickly for the road conditions and thick flakes of snow falling from sky to ground. He sped past houses adorned in wreaths with thick red bows, glowing lights spanning every color of the rainbow, and tacky blow up Santa’s and Rudolph’s. With every mile, his urge, his need to see Wynn grew. He pictured her smooth, creamy skin, her cheeks blushing pink, and her soft, warm smile. He had to find her. Maybe it was ridiculous, but with each passing moment, each minute he had yet to lay his eyes on her face and tell her how he really felt, his heart sank deeper into his chest, leaving behind a hollow ache.
“Um, you want to arrive alive?” Gemma clung to her seatbelt like a lifeline. “You know, this could just wait until tomorrow. She’ll be at her mom’s. We don’t have to go on a wild goose chase.”
Zane glanced at her with fire in his eyes. Surrendering, Gemma put her hands up. “Okay. Okay. Just saying.” She concentrated on the list of addresses Zane forced her to draw up with Wynn’s various family members and friends she tended to visit on her ritual Christmas Eve rounds. “Let’s go to her Uncle Leroy’s. She usually likes to spend at least a couple hours there. Besides, they have good alcohol.”
