My breath is still coming out in short spurts. “I retract my earlier comment.” Mom laughs from her chair in the corner as we watch the two kids battle it out.
The perfect ending to my day.
“I love this time of the year,” Cassie says, her brown curls bouncing on her shoulders as she runs to the Christmas tree to do her daily inspection of new presents. This year there are a few more presents under the tree, thanks to my parents and their endless wallet. Mom told me to hush up and accept it. They didn’t work hard their whole lives to sit on their money. It’s there to support me and their grandkids however they see fit. And that means moving in with me temporarily while buying them every toy known to man.
Should any of those toys consist of something noisy and loud or has more than five pieces I’m sending it with them to Arizona.
Jacob and my dad are glued to the TV. Football has been on nonstop. Between college bowl games and the NFL, it’s all they’ve done for bonding time. Not that I object. My dad is explaining the rules as they go and Jacob is like a little sponge, hanging on his every word and storing it in that endless data bank he calls a memory.
Cassie and my mom haven’t left the kitchen in a week. If they keep this up, I’m going to need a new wardrobe. There’s no way I’ll be fitting into my pants after this. Once they made pumpkin bread, I was done. Mom knows it’s my favorite and can’t resist it. Cheater.
“Grandma, can we open presents tonight?” Cassie starts organizing them by person, then by height. She’s quite impressed with her pile and tries to bring Jacob’s attention to it. He just shrugs and continues talking with my dad. Jacob was never one for flashy things. Give that child a box and he’d be entertained for hours. With what, I don’t know. It’s best not to ask those questions.
“Not tonight, baby. We’re waiting until after dinner tomorrow. Then you can see what all you got.” Mom smiles from the kitchen. The kids know it’s tradition to open presents on Christmas Eve, yet they try to push the envelope every year. Cassie’s frown is almost comical. Quite literally. It’s as if someone painted her lips to turn down so dramatically that it’s something you’d find in a cartoon.
“Fine,” she huffs, trudging back to the kitchen. If she doesn’t grow up to be an actress, I’d be surprised.
I look out the living room window at the snow falling. It dances across the streetlights, sparkling on its way to the ground to form a white, pillowy blanket. They’re the kind of snowflakes you love to catch with your tongue, the big, fat, fluffy ones.
Despite how the holiday season began, it’s shaping up to be one of the best we’ve had. Instantly, I feel like a heel for thinking it. I shouldn’t be happy that Mike isn’t here or that we don’t feel the need to walk around on eggshells and guard everything we do. I’ll never be rid of him. He’s still their father and will be in their lives forever. Still, he hasn’t proven that he wants anything to do with us, which Connor said is good. We can use that against him in court.
A knock sounds at the door. No one moves an inch, so I reluctantly stand from my chair and head in that direction. When I open the door all the air whooshes from my lungs.
Henry stands before me, his breath curling around his face that’s lit up with the brightest of smiles. He traded his usual baseball hat for a beanie, which is just as sexy. Those thick, brown locks poke out from underneath, giving him the illusion of looking more like a college student rather than a successful business owner. The wool coat has something to do with it, too. And the scarf. All of it with the beard…
He’s laughing at me now.
“Um, hi? You in there?” He waves a hand in front of my face. Instantly I feel a fire cross my skin.
“Oh, um, yeah.” Caught staring. Nice comeback. Yep, he won’t think you’re a loser at all.
I shut the door behind me, joining him in the cold on the front steps. Probably should have grabbed a coat, but my higher brain function has left and I can’t think of anything other than his lips on mine. It’s what happened the last time we saw each other. Our nightly routine of sticking around the bar to talk has turned into that mixed with teenager hormones that require our lips constantly pressed together. Not that I’m complaining. His lips are soft and completely kissable. I can’t help but stare at them now.
Henry clears his throat again. God, I’m making a fool of myself. I shake my head, trying to take control of my thoughts.
“You doing okay?” His gentle voice soothes my nerves and I stop shaking. I don’t feel the cold anymore, not with the way he’s looking at me. The fire in my cheeks spreads down my neck and pools in my chest.
“Yeah,” I say with a squeak. “Fine. What brings you out here at this hour?”
This time it’s his turn to look down. He shoves his hands into his coat pockets and pulls one out. Only it’s not empty. A small, square box sits in his outstretched hand.
“For you.”
The silver and red wrapping paper shines in the porch light. A present? He brought me a present?
I stare at the box a little more, not making any moves to take it from him. “Me? Are you sure?”
Henry rolls his eyes and takes my hand, setting the box in my palm. “Yes, you. Now open it before we both freeze to death.”
With a nod, I rip at the paper, mindful to not tear it to shreds. A black box with gold lettering greets me. I open the lid and press a hand to my mouth. Inside is a gold bracelet with a single charm. Not just any charm; a picture of Princess Leia is etched into the circle, complete with her side buns from A New Hope. It’s the most thoughtful gift a man has ever given me.
“Henry, I don’t know what to say.” Words escape me as I stare at the gold bangle sitting on its tuft of cotton. I’m afraid to touch it because it might disappear. As much as he teases me about my love affair with everything Star Wars, he bought me something both feminine and nerdy all at once.
“Here, let me help you.” He takes the bracelet out of the box and lifts my hand with the other. His warm palms feel good against my rapidly cooling skin as he slides the bangle over my hand and adjusts it so it won’t fly off. Our fingers brush slightly when he lifts my hand up to the light for a better look.
“I always knew you were a rebel.” He smirks and his eyes shine with laughter. Those cute little wrinkles appear at the corner of his eyes. My knees suddenly feel like Jell-O.
He doesn’t let go of my hand and I don’t want him to. Everything about this moment is perfect. I don’t want to ruin it by opening my mouth or letting my awkwardness show. Here, under this light in the freezing cold, I just want to be Jocelyn.
We close the distance between our lips and whatever chills that lingered within my body evaporate into the snow-filled sky. The mintiness of his breath floods my mouth as I open, allowing our tongues to brush and tangle. Still gripping the box, I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, needing him, wanting him. All I know is this kiss is better than any other kiss I’ve ever received in my life. No false pretenses, no empty promises of what’s to come. We’re just two people exploring a possibility. We’ve been burned before and somehow it hasn’t extinguished our light.
We slow, our lips lightly grazing with small pecks. When I open my eyes again, his smile is the first thing I see. I run my fingers over the soft stubble of his beard, loving how I’ve gotten used to it over the past few weeks. It’s new and right now I’m all about new. New sensations, new opportunities…a new hope.
“You better get back home before you freeze to death.” I’m assuming it’s still cold outside, only because my glasses are fogging up from the heat of our combined breaths. I completely forgot I had put them on tonight until just now.
Henry laughs. “Not going to happen.” With a final peck on the lips, he turns to get into his car. I wave as he backs out of the driveway.
Mom opens the door before I even get a hand on it. “What did Henry want?”
The door latches behind me. “How did you know it was him?”
A k
nowing smile crosses her face. “Call it mother’s intuition.” I raise a brow. “Not to mention he’s the only person who brings that smile back to your face. It’s been way too long since I’ve seen it.” She takes me by the shoulders, encompassing me with her arms, squeezing me tight. “I’ve missed you.”
There’s a double meaning in her words. I know the shell of a person I’d become over the years. Mike stole little pieces of me slowly so I barely noticed until it was too late. Somehow, I’m picking the pieces up one by one and gluing myself back together. I just need to make sure I don’t repeat the mistakes of my past by jumping into anything too quickly.
“Thanks for being here.” I return her hug and pull away before I start to cry. Having her unconditional support means the world to me. And I know she’ll love me no matter what I do.
It doesn’t take long for her to notice the new bangle on my wrist. She narrows her eyes before rolling them as she takes in the picture.
“Not another Star Wars nerd.” I can’t help but laugh.
“He’s not, but he knows I am.”
She pats my hand before releasing it. “Very sweet.”
We walk into the living room where we catch Cassie trying to cleverly peel back the tape on one of her presents.
“Ahem.” She jumps about two feet in the air and drops the present as if it was on fire.
Looking like a cat caught with the canary, she places her hands behind her back. “I wasn’t doing anything.”
I crook my finger to her, pointing to the area in front of my chair. She sheepishly looks down. It’s hard to keep my smile at bay anymore. “We told you tomorrow.”
“I know. I only wanted a peek.” Her voice is barely above a whisper.
Pulling her into my lap, I hug her tight. “You’re too sweet. Let’s watch a movie. That should take your mind off the presents.”
“Doubtful,” Jacob says from the couch. Dad looks over to him with a finger over his lips.
Mom sits on the other side of Jacob. He tries for aloof but fails. This child loves his grandmother, probably as much as he loves me.
I kneel in front of the DVD case and slide my finger along the spines until I find the title. It’s their favorite.
They only need to hear the opening song before they’re bouncing in their seats. Christmas Vacation is a tradition. Normally we wait until right before we open presents, but this year is already an exception, what’s one more.
The whole house smells like pumpkin pie and turkey; two very different smells that strangely work together. Mom bustles around the kitchen, stirring pots and basting the turkey in intervals. I try to help where I can, which isn’t much. One because I’m horrible at it, and two because she swats my hand every time I try. I know better than to mess with her space. She’s the queen of her domain.
I’m putting the finishing touches on the table when my phone rings in my bedroom. I’ve been so busy all morning that I haven’t looked at it once. It’s been nice to disconnect from the outside world for a while.
Naturally it stops ringing before I make it to the bedside table. I push the home button, illuminating the dark screen. One missed call and several text messages. That isn’t what makes the room shrink as I sit on the edge of the bed. No, the name associated with those messages has my stomach on a rollercoaster.
Mike: Merry Christmas.
Mike: I have a question for you.
Mike: Pick up your phone, I know you’re around.
Mike: Please, it’s important.
Two months of silence and he picks Christmas Eve to finally reach out. I don’t fully open the messages, knowing he can see when they’re read. Instead, I pull up the phone number saved in my contacts and make a quick call. I’m sure I’ll get charged up the ass for it, but I need a reasoning voice to talk to me right now.
“Jocelyn?” The background noise quiets to a din as the sound of a door latching echoes over the line.
“Connor, hi. I’m sorry to call you right now, but I have a question.”
“No, no. Of course. I told you to call me anytime. That includes today.” His voice is light, cheerful. Now I feel even more like a fool.
Well, it’s now or never. “Mike called me.” Silence greets me on the other end. Taking a deep breath, I give voice to my fears. “What do I do?”
“I take it you didn’t talk to him?”
“No, I missed the call but he sent several text messages wanting to talk. I don’t know what to do.”
“As your lawyer, I would advise you to use caution. You are not obligated to speak to him; however, he could use it against you in mediation, saying you were unreasonable.”
I figured as much. “Will it look bad if I refuse him to see the kids?” I chew on my thumbnail, tension wracking every muscle in my body.
He takes a moment before answering. “It could. I wouldn’t doubt he’d use it against you. But we could also spin it in our favor, saying you’ve been accommodating when you didn’t need to be.”
A tear slowly treks down my cheek. “They’re my kids.”
“Unfortunately, they’re his kids, too.” Compassion oozes from his voice. He knows what I’m dealing with. I’m in a no-win situation. His disappearance for two months could mean nothing if he paints me out to be the unreasonable parent who refuses visitation.
I nod as if he could see. “Okay.”
“I’m sorry I don’t have a better answer, but it’s your decision. Either way, you need to do what’s right for your children.”
“I know. Thanks, Connor. I’m sorry to pull you away from your family. I’ll let you know what happens.”
He wishes me a Merry Christmas and ends the call. I knew this wouldn’t give me any peace, but I had to hear the harsh truth. No custody arrangement means there are no rules. With no rules means there’s judgment at every angle. And I refuse to give him any ammunition.
I stare at the white electronic still sitting in my hand, begging it for an answer. Do I text or call? Which would be the lesser of two evils? Texts can be misinterpreted. It’s better to suck it up and face him.
“Hey, Joss.” The sound of his voice makes my skin crawl. The wounds are still too fresh, even though it’s been years since we’ve actually been in love. Or some form of it.
“What do you want, Mike?” It’s hard to keep the disdain out of my voice.
He laughs. Asshole. “Panties in a bunch? Calm down. I wanted to see the kids so I’m giving you notice that I’ll be by tomorrow.”
“Notice? You disappear for two months and decide on a whim to see them?”
“A whim? It’s Christmas, Jocelyn. I think I have a right to see them.”
A bitter laugh escapes. “You didn’t seem to care about Thanksgiving. Why now?”
“Thanksgiving isn’t a real holiday. Besides, you can’t keep them from me. You won’t like it if you do.”
“Is that a threat?” A chill runs up my arms, wrapping around my chest and squeezing my heart. This is what I feared.
“Not a threat. A promise. Don’t cross me or I’ll make your life a living hell. I’ll be by at two o’clock. Have them ready.”
I swallow thickly; my mouth suddenly feeling like the damn Sahara. “No. If you want to see them, you can do it here. I don’t know where you’re staying or what you’re doing. You’ve made no attempt at communication until now, so forgive me if I don’t just let our kids go somewhere without my knowledge.”
“Someone grew a backbone.” Sarcasm drips from his words. “Fine. We’ll play it your way for now. It’ll be one, big, happy holiday together. Just like old times. But mark my words, you’ll learn your place again.”
The line goes dead, giving him the last word, as always. My hands shake as I set the phone down on the table, anger surging through my system.
Mom stands in the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron. “Joss? You okay?” She joins me on the bed and brushes some hair away from my face. “What’s wrong?”
“Mike is coming over tomorrow.
”
She sucks in a surprised gasp. “And he’s just now letting you know?”
I nod. “It’s the kind of thing he’d do. But let’s not tell the kids. If I say something and he doesn’t show, it opens up the door for them to be disappointed on Christmas. I’d rather take it as it comes, so to speak.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
I shake my head. “Not today. Tomorrow, yes. I’m going to need help. And a lot of wine.”
Mom reaches up to place her hand on my cheek. “I’ll send your father to the store.”
I tap my thigh with my phone, each small strike reminding me that I’m still here and capable of feeling something.
Mediation went about as well as Christmas did. Mike showed up, brought the kids their presents and invited himself over for dinner. I tried to object, but my mom said it’d be best for the kids. Jacob didn’t engage in any of the conversations Mike tried to have with him. Just one-worded answers were all he responded with. Cassie, on the other hand, kept telling story after story until the little vein on the side of Mike’s neck started pulsing. I know it was killing him to sit there and listen to her drone on. He never had the patience for her stories before, always cut her off to wave her away. Since my parents were there, he had no choice but to listen.
At least it was some sort of torture.
I didn’t ask where he’d been and he didn’t offer the information either. Not that I care. Until now, as I sit here and wait for him to pick up the kids for his weekend visit.
Mike’s attorney voiced his concern about where the kids go while I work at the restaurant during the week. Connor countered with the fact Mike never once asked about the kids in the two months he’s been away. After a lot of back and forth, we agreed that the kids will be with Mike every other weekend and two nights during the week, giving me time to work at the restaurant. We tried to bring up child support, but it was tabled for another meeting.
“Mom, how long do we have to stay with Dad?” Cassie sets her bag down at my feet. Tears start to well in her eyes. I sweep her into my arms and brush her hair like I used to when she was little.
I Don't Regret You Page 17
