“Yeah, so?”
“I told him about your designs. He said he'd love to get together and give you some pointers on nailing the interview and getting into the program-”
“I've already been accepted.”
“Seriously?”
I nodded. Yes, in fact, I would be one of the newest interns following Adriana's every move. Thanks to Alexander Rivera, and his incredible grandmother, one of my biggest dreams was only months away from coming true.
Without warning he wrapped me into a big, warm bear hug. “I'm so proud of you.”
“Okay, this just took a serious shift into creepy,” I said, backing away from him. “Tell Nick I said thanks but no thanks. No offense, but he kinda freaked me out when I met him the first time. Plus, I don't want to give Bridget the wrong idea-”
“Okay,” he nodded, trying to hide the extra wetness welling in his eyes.
“Man up,” I thumped his arm with my fist. “And for God's sake, ask Bridget out already.”
Isaac drove me home from school despite the fact that it was literally a block away. He dropped me off outside the house and then made his way across the street. I turned the key into the lock and walked smack dab into the middle of a screaming match.
“You, you, you!” Mom yelled, throwing her hands in the air. “I can't stand it anymore! Think about somebody else for a change! It's Christmas, Calvin! Christmas! Doesn't that mean anything to you?”
“When you said you'd marry me, that's what you got. Me. All of me. The good and the bad. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best-”
“Marilyn Monroe,” I noted. “Nice touch.”
Calvin took a moment to suppress his anger and sport the Rivera smirk. “I thought it worked there-”
“No, it does, it does. Continue.”
“Shut up, Baby,” Mom interjected. “Go to your room. This is between Mommy and Calvin.”
“Okay... mommy,” I said, sarcastically. “It looks like you and Cal need a break. How 'bout you go take a bubble bath, give yourself some time to think about whatever is bothering you, and I'll walk around the block a time or two with Calvin. Let's work this out like mature adults, okay?”
She rolled her eyes and stomped up the stairs without another word. I looked at Calvin and raised my eyebrows.
“Cal, sometimes you have to knock her down a peg--”
“Kill her with kindness?”
“Yup. Get your coat.”
Calvin and I stepped onto the porch bundled in coats, gloves, hats, and boots. We walked down the road in silence, hearing nothing but the snow crunch beneath our feet.
“What's bothering you lately?” I asked him. “I know we're not super close, but I care. And I don't want us to mess this up... I'm kinda attached to you.”
He smiled. “Good to hear.”
“So if she's done something, or I have, please... I mean, you're the closest thing I've ever had to a father-”
“Steph,” he said. “You're a good kid. And your mom is an incredible woman. I love you both.”
“Then?”
“What I'm fighting is a personal demon. It has nothing to do with you, Caroline, or--”
“And Alex?”
“What about him?”
“He's been... well, a lot like you lately. Angry. Irritable. And... well, no offense, but kinda mean.”
“He'll be fine after Christmas,” he assured me. “We all will.”
Calvin was the only person I could talk to about Mr. Rivera outside of school. It was Cal who got the call to pick me up after the bathroom brawl at homecoming, Cal who came out to support my role in the fall production, and Cal who promised he'd keep my crush on the down low. This man was more family to me than my mother had ever been. I was honored to call him my future step-father... I just wish it didn't come with the added bonus of a super sexy, incredibly perfect step-uncle.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” he said, cramming his hands into the coat pockets. “But maybe I can show you something that will help you understand.” We walked another two blocks, past Nate's house, then Mr. Rivera's, and down on further to a quaint, white church on the corner. “Our parents got married here.”
“Very cool,” I smiled, regretting the statement as Calvin moved off the sidewalk and toward the back of the building and into the large cemetery. “Cal?”
“Stay close,” he whispered. “It's slippery.”
I followed him for what felt like forever, weaving in and out of the headstones, neither of us speaking a word to the other. As we reached the far corner, just at the edge of a small forest, he stopped short and stood staring in front of him. I stepped to his side to take in the sight. His brother, my teacher, was sitting on the cold, frosted, snowy ground with his back against a tombstone and his head buried in his hands.
His hair was disheveled, his clothes wet and wrinkled, and he was, no doubt, frozen to the core. He lifted his head and looked away from us, unsuccessfully trying to hide the stream of tears falling from his eyes. Cal was better at masking his feelings, but couldn't stand comfortably and watch his brother breaking down.
“Alex,” he knelt down. “Come on, man.”
Without warning, Mr. Rivera threw himself into his brother's arms and wept like a child. After several long moments of intense and heart-wrenching sobbing on both their parts, Calvin turned and motioned for me to take his place. I leaned next to Calvin, taking Mr Rivera in my arms.
“I'm going to run back and get the car,” he said. “We need to get him home.”
Cal moved quickly out of the cemetery and out of sight as I ran my fingers through Alex's hair. The weeping stopped, the tears dried, and all that remained was the silence in the air.
“I'm sorry,” he choked. “I've been such an ass-”
“You don't have to apologize for anything—”
“I do,” he said. “I'm a grown man, for chrissake. I've acted like such a child-”
“Stop,” I ordered him, with gentle tone. He pulled away and sat up straight, back leaning against the tombstone again, just as we'd found him.
“I miss them...”
Those were the final three words he said before breaking down once again. I tried my best to comfort him, but he was reluctant to accept the effort I was giving.
Calvin returned after another ten minutes of silence. He pulled his brother standing and walked him slowly to the car. I didn't know how Alex could possibly be moving on his own; only twenty minutes of sitting on the ground and I was nearly frozen. God knows how long he's probably been here. I stood up and finally turned to read the stone that Alex's body had covered.
RIVERA
Esteban & Mia
April 04, 1959 August 18, 1959
to
December 08, 1991
Today was the 20-year anniversary of his parents' death.
He had every right to hate the world...
We got Alex settled into the passenger seat of Cal's car and drove quietly down the road. He pulled into the driveway of a small, one-story house on the corner.
Cal helped Alex out of the car, up the front steps, and inside. I followed closely behind.
“Alex, sweetheart,” a woman's voice came from the kitchen in the back of the house. The Rivera's grandmother, celebrity designer Adriana Holbrook, rushed into the room and embraced her seemingly lifeless grandson. “Cal, I put the tea on. Pour your brother a cup. We'll be in his bedroom. I have his bed made up and ready for him. Steph,” she turned to me. “It's good to see you again.” With that, she pushed Alex into a bedroom at the far left corner.
The house was small, but cozy. The fireplace in the living room cast a warm glow onto the wooden floor. Mr. Rivera's home had all of the inne
r workings of a secluded log cabin and I was falling in love... with... the house, of course.
Calvin passed by with the tea and half-smiled as he entered his brother's room. Moments later, he and his grandmother reappeared, closing the door behind them.
“Steph,” she reached her arms forward and scooped me in a hug. “How have you been, sweetheart?”
“Is he-”
“He'll be fine,” she said. “Calvin, honey, you need to get back to your lady and smooth things over.”
“How did you know—”
“It's Christmas.”
He nodded and pecked her quickly on the head. “Bye Gran.”
I turned to follow Calvin.
“Where do you think you're going, missy?” she asked, harshly.
“With him--”
“No ma'am,” she cocked her head to the side. “Calvin, tell this girl's mother she won't be back tonight. She's having a sleepover with her new best friend.”
Chapter Five
Thursday December 08
“It hits him harder every year,” Adriana said, clutching her cup of tea with both hands. “He's never found it in his heart to forgive himself.”
“How--”
“Car accident,” she said, shaking her head and wiping a tear. “Twenty years they've been gone...”
“Mr. Riv...Alex... he would've been so young.”
“Six. And boy, was Alexander a special kid,” she smiled. “He loved Christmas. He'd run through the house every night screaming let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow! It was never about the presents with that boy. He was captivated by the magic of the season... the thrill of having something to believe in.”
“Santa?”
“And flying reindeer,” she smirked.
“Of course,” I half-laughed.
“A traveling Christmas group came into town that year. They were advertising a real-life nativity scene, holiday music, and a petting zoo for the children— complete with every animal imaginable, including Santa's nine reindeer.”
“Sounds wonderful--”
“Little Alex thought so too,” she continued. “He begged them to take him. Of course, Mia was reluctant. There had been a heavy snowfall the night before and she didn't want to risk taking the boys on the road. Poor Alex just couldn't understand why his mother kept telling him no. He cried for days. Finally, much to her dismay, the boys' father packed him up on the final day of the event. Mia and Esteban left the other boys with their grandfather; Calvin had already outgrown the magic of Christmas and Blake was still so tiny, just over a year old. The drive wasn't a long one, but too long to risk in the treacherous weather. The snow kept falling. The ice piled onto the road. Esteban must have known that the trip wasn't worth taking. At some point, he turned around and headed back toward the house.” Adriana buried her face in her hands and cried for several long minutes. “Esteban and Mia never made it home.”
“You don't have to talk about this,” I told her, taking her hand from across the table.
“I'm sorry,” she dried her eyes. “I get so wrapped up in caring for the boys that I almost forget to grieve for myself.”
“Because you lost your...”
“Son... Esteban.” She glanced at the clock hanging above the stove. “I suppose I should check on Alex--”
“Do you mind?” I asked, quickly. “I'd like to talk to him.”
She nodded. “Sure. Don't be too long, sweetheart. He needs his rest.”
I pushed myself away from the table and left the kitchen. I moved quietly through the living room and to the furthest corner and stopped outside the bedroom. I gently knocked and stuck my head in.
“You're supposed to be resting,” I told him, stepping in and shutting the door behind me. He was sitting up in bed, leaning over a stack of papers, pen in hand, and looking like death.
“I needed to take my mind off-”
“I understand.” I took a seat on the corner of the mattress and stared at him for a moment. “Listen...I know you're tapped out and the last thing you need to hear is another lecture about how it wasn't your fault. I just wanted to let you know that, if you ever want to talk, I'm here.”
He leaned back and rested his head on the headboard behind him. “Why are you so wonderful?”
“I'm not.”
“Matter of opinion, kiddo,” he said, biting his lip.
“And I'm right,” I teased, happy to see some of his original characteristics shining through.
“Is there a reason you're still here?” he asked, fighting to keep his eyes open.
“You matter to me,” I admitted. “You're emotional health is dwindling. You need a little extra love and care--”
“Gran has plenty of love--”
“I can leave--”
“No!” His eyes widened and he sat forward. “I don't want you to go... I'm just saying... this is usually about the time the running starts...”
“I'm sorry?”
“When the going gets tough,” he said. “Women don't like to have their Christmas spirit killed by... unnecessary emotions, to say the least.”
“Yeah, I walked in on that very fight today--”
“Did she leave him?”
“Mom? Leave Calvin? No way. He's a keeper. But she wasn't happy...”
“They never are.”
He was obviously speaking from experience. “Who left you?”
“Huh?”
“You had your heart broken,” I said.
“No,” he said. “We'd only dated a few months. We weren't in love.”
“So?”
“The moment that first flake of snow hit the ground... I'm not a nice person this time of year,” he shook his head and wiped away a single tear. “I hate Christmas, Steph.”
“You hate what Christmas reminds you of,” I corrected him.
“No,” he remained adamant. “I hate the songs, the cheer, the trees, the gift exchanges...”
“I don't believe that,” I said. “And Adriana seems to believe the six-year-old boy who lost his parents thrived on the magic of the holiday.”
“She told you?”
I nodded. “You need a tree.”
“No--”
“Decorations.”
“Forget it--”
“Candles, cookies, presents!”
“No, Steph,” he said. “I don't do Chri—”
“You know what?” I said, pointing my finger in his face. “You are the most kind and caring person I've ever met. But somehow, you're also the most stubborn. If you just applied your fun-loving, goofy, childish attitude toward Christmas... you'd be unstoppable.”
He managed a half-hearted smile. He looked at the papers in front of him and threw his ink pen on top of the stack. “I hate grading these essays...”
“Good,” I said, happy his mind was elsewhere. “Because we hate doing them.”
Friday December 09
“Steph, sweetheart, wake up.”
“Go away.”
“Time for school, sweetie,” Adriana said.
“Go away...”
“Abcdef Ghijk,” she said sternly, snapping me awake immediately. “Breakfast is on the table. Calvin will be here in ten minutes with a change of clothes and your school bag.”
I rolled off the couch and trekked slowly to the bathroom outside Alex's bedroom. Once inside, I shut the door and turned the sink on, splashing cold water onto my face. I looked in the mirror and couldn't help but smile. Here I stood, in a man's bathroom, wearing his college tee-shirt and sweatpants after a long night of peaceful sleep... My mother would be so proud.
I pulled my hair out of the bun and ran my fingers through it. I wiped away a small smudge of makeup and stepped back to assess the damage.
After ruling myself as acceptable, I walked out of the bathroom, bumping into Alex on the way.
“Steph,” he said, biting his lip. “Good morning-”
“....hi,” I managed. “I mean... hi....”
He looked better than he had the night before, though his eyes were still bloodshot and his hair a little messy.
“Are you going to school?”
“Yeah,” I nodded, trying to knock myself out of his hypnotic trance. “Just waiting on Cal to bring my things. I'm guessing you're not-”
“Not today.”
“Good. You need to take the day to rest.” He nodded in agreement. We stared at one another for several long moments, neither of us knowing what to say next. “Oh,” I finally said. “Thanks for letting me borrow some clothes last night-”
“No problem, it's the least I could do.”
Adriana turned out of the kitchen and glared at me. “Well, Steph, I have good news and I have bad.”
“Okay?”
“The good news is my grandson was smart enough to bring your school bag.”
“And the bad?”
“He forgot your clothes.”
Calvin poked his head out behind her. “Sorry...”
“It's fine,” I shrugged. “I'll run home-”
“There's no time,” Alex said, looking at the clock. “Class starts in ten minutes.”
“What?”
“It's okay,” he said. “You look fine. Just wear what you have on.”
“I can't go to school like this-”
“You don't really have much of a choice,” Adriana interjected. “Clock's tickin! Calvin, get her to school.” She turned back to me. “Have a good day, sweetheart.”
With a half-hearted wave to everyone in the room, I stepped out the door, bag over my shoulder and glared in Cal's direction.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
Five minutes later I rushed into the front doors of Webster Grove High School and moved quickly down the hall to the English classroom. The room was filling up one student at a time. I walked to the usual desk and sat down with an effort to catch my breath.
The Webster Grove Series Page 9
