“Keep your cool, Laura. You’ve got this. You do it every year,” I said to myself.
I slapped my laptop closed when there was a knock on my front door. The stool wobbled as I slid down and hurried to the door. When I pulled it open my best friend Ella was standing on my front steps, smiling at me.
“Morning,” Ella said cheerfully, as she rubbed her hands together. Like me, she was dressed in tight spandex and had her running shoes on. They were black with white soles and lime green stitching. “You ready to do this?”
I nodded. “Yes, just give me one second. I want to pack up my work bag first.”
Ella followed me back into my townhouse and closed the door behind her. “I can’t believe its December first tomorrow,” she said, as I hurried around my kitchen, packing up my tote bag with my notebook, planner, laptop, and granola bar.
“I know. I don’t know where the time went. It feels like just yesterday we were at crunch time for the fundraiser last year.”
“Are you stressed?” My best friend asked me, crossing her arms beneath her enviously perfect boobs, while cocking her head to the side.
I shrugged and put the tote bag on the stool I’d been sitting on moments before. “It comes and goes. One minute I’m calm and collected, and the next I feel like I’m going to explode with nerves. You?”
“About the same.”
“Then a run will do us both some good,” I grinned.
We spilled out onto the stairs at the front door of my townhouse. Ella hurried down to wait for me on the sidewalk as I locked the door and slid the key in the small zippered pouch in the waistband of my leggings. Then I joined her at the bottom of the stairs and pointed at the park across the street. “Park route today?”
“Works for me,” Ella said.
We both looked both ways down my street. In LA, residential streets like mine were hard to come by. Palm trees line the road, which wasn’t very Christmas-like but would soon be strung with multicolored lights nonetheless. People milled about on the sidewalks, walking their dogs or their children in their fall jackets and boots. We liked to celebrate the seasons in this city even though it never got cold enough to be considered winter weather, let alone fall.
When the coast was clear Ella and I jogged across the street. We crossed the sidewalk on the other side and started off with a brisk walk through the park to warm up.
“Are you going to shower at my place when we’re done?” I asked, as we rounded a corner on the park path that opened up to a fountain in the middle of the park.
“If that’s alright with you. It’s so much easier to just get ready at your place when we’re heading into the office right after.”
“And fuel efficient,” I added.
Ella tapped my ass and nodded ahead. “Alright. Let’s do this. Half an hour, no stops. Think you can keep up?”
I laughed. “Kiss my ass, Ella.”
Our run was as good as it always was. The first couple minutes and getting out the door were the hardest part, but once we had some momentum in our stride all the noise of the morning slipped away and I was able to focus my thoughts. Clarity.
When we slowed to a walk thirty minutes later my mind was sharp and full of answers to the problems I hadn’t even been confronted with yet today. I knew there would be many. And there would be more, tomorrow. With an event as big as this fundraiser, problems were impossible to avoid.
My legs were heavy and felt like jelly as we climbed the steps and I let us back into my townhouse. Ella took the guest bathroom on the first floor and I climbed the stairs to my bathroom to take my shower. The hot water was refreshing, and I ended my shower with one minute under ice cold water. There was no better combination.
After towel drying and taking the shower cap off that kept my hair dry, I got dressed in a pair of black jeans, a white blouse, and a black blazer. Then I went downstairs and brewed a pot of coffee.
She came out of the bathroom shortly after me. The coffee had finished brewing and I poured us each a cup. We took our coffee the same, with a dash of almond milk and two shakes of cinnamon.
I opened my fridge and frowned at the contents. “Alright. Breakfast option number one is an omelet. Number two, toast with peanut butter. I really need to go grocery shopping but everything’s just been so crazy this week.”
“I was thinking we should just pick up acai bowls on our way to the office,” Ella suggested, pursing her lips to the side of her white coffee mug and sipping her coffee.
“Great. That works for me.”
After finishing our coffees we stopped to pick up acai bowls at one of our favorite cafes on the way into the office. The employees knew us well and made sure to keep a flyer for my foundation up in their shop all the time. They knew today was the day before my big event, so they put extra strawberries in my bowl.
It was the perfect start to a busy day.
Ella and I got to my office downtown just after nine-thirty in the morning. Everyone else was already there, rushing to and fro, hands full of papers and cell phones raised to their ears as they worked tirelessly to make sure everything went off without a hitch tomorrow night.
Everyone smiled and waved as we walked by.
“I love this feeling,” Ella said when we slipped into my office.
I closed the door behind me and went and sat on the other side of my white minimalist desk from Ella. We both tucked our chairs in and set our bowls down in front of us. “You’ve had an affinity for chaos since I met you,” I said.
Ella popped the plastic lid off her bowl and tore the wrapper off her plastic fork. She stabbed a strawberry and popped it in her mouth. We were too close of friends for her to care about covering her mouth while she spoke. “And you have not. That’s what makes us a perfect combination. Sugar and spice.”
“Naughty and nice.”
Ella pointed her fork at me. “Absolutely.”
I mixed my bowl up and sighed. “I’m so looking forward to Sunday morning. The event will be done. We’ll know how much money we raised and whether or not the children’s home project will be feasible.”
“It will be. We’ve looked at all the projected numbers a thousand times, Laura. We’re going to have enough to make it work. Your children’s home isn’t a dream anymore. We’re going to do it.”
I smiled. “I wish I had a bottle of champagne to make a toast to that.”
Ella held up her acai bowl. Giggling, I lifted mine too, and we tapped the plastic edges together. Ella gave me a knowing smile. “In thirty six hours you’ll see I was right. And the best part?”
“Yes?”
“It will also be Christmas time. Finally.”
Chapter 3
Max
The gull wing doors closed behind me as I walked up the driveway. It had been repaved the summer before my mother passed away and still, somehow, it looked brand new. Keith must have power washed it once a month for the two years following her death in an effort to keep everything as pristine as she would have wanted.
If that was what true love looked like, I sure as shit did not want it.
I had no interest in carrying the burden of a loved one’s expectations once they were in the grave. It sounded like torture to me. Or just plain madness.
Stopping at the front door, I rolled my shoulders for a moment. My mother’s wreath seemed to glare at me, the little red ornaments embedded in the curls of pine winking in the glare of the sun at my back.
“Hey Mom,” I said under my breath before raising my fist and knocking softly. Even though she’d been gone for two years, this house still felt like she was in it. Like it couldn’t exist without her.
But it did.
My stepbrother Hayden opened the door. A goofy smile stretched his cheeks and he gave me a one armed hug. He seemed to get stronger every time I saw him.
“That’s some grip for an accountant,” I said dryly.
Hayden thumped me on the back and closed the front door behind me. The foyer smelled like cit
rus and cinnamon. My mother used to make little packets that she would boil on the stove. Full of things like cloves and cinnamon sticks, they made the house smell like whatever season it was. Keith had apparently maintained the tradition. Or he was simmering the old packets she had in storage over the stove. I didn’t care either way.
“Come on in. Dad is in the kitchen and dinner should be ready in twenty minutes or so. Want a drink? Rum and coke?”
Hayden knew my poison. I shook my head. “No thanks. I’m alright.”
“Water?”
“Sure.”
I followed Hayden down the hall, past the stairs, and into the kitchen at the back of the house. Big cardboard boxes were tucked along the back wall out of the way. My mother’s handwriting on the sides stated ‘Christmas Decorations.’ I sighed and slid my arms out of my jacket.
The family room was joined with the kitchen. The back of the sofa was pressed up against the carpet where it met the tile kitchen floor and I draped my jacket over the back of it before rolling up the sleeves of my shirt.
Keith, hovering over the stove, turned to give me a welcoming smile. “Good to see you, Max.”
“Keith,” I tipped my head.
My stepfather hadn’t aged a day in the decade I’d known him. His beard was still gray with only a bit more white than it used to have, and it was perfectly trimmed and neatly kept. His warm brown eyes were framed with long gray and black lashes. He was wearing a green and black plaid button up. I was pretty sure my mother had bought him that shirt the Christmas before she passed away.
Keith gestured at the stove. “I’m cooking curry.”
“Sounds good.”
Hayden emerged from the fridge, where he’d been rummaging around for a bottle of water. He tossed it to me and went about mixing himself and Keith a rum and coke. As he poured rum over ice in two crystal glasses he nodded at the Christmas boxes. “It’s that time of year already. Dad and I will be putting up the lights over the weekend.”
“Fun.”
Hayden and Keith exchanged a glance before my stepbrother said, somewhat timidly, “You’re welcome to come and help if you’d like.”
I almost laughed. Almost. Instead, I unscrewed the cap on the water bottle, swallowed three massive gulps, and shook my head. “No thanks.”
“Well, the offer doesn’t expire,” Keith said, lifting the lid off a pot on the stove and stirring the contents. The rich, coconut and spice scent of curry wafted all around the kitchen. My stomach didn’t lurch like I expected it to. The hangover was abating and I was optimistic that I’d be able to get some food in my gut.
“If I change my mind I know where to find you,” I said. They both knew what I was actually saying: I know you two will be doing Christmas shit all weekend so I’m going to stay as far away from here as humanly possible.
“Catherine said she’ll probably come by,” Keith said.
“Good for her. She’s always liked Christmas. Give her the easy jobs, will you?” I asked.
Keith and Hayden both nodded. “Obviously,” Hayden said.
I drained the rest of the water bottle and put it in the recycling bin near the back door. When I came back to sit at the kitchen island both my stepbrother and stepfather were giving me skeptical looks.
“What?” I asked, trying my best not to scowl at their concerned expressions.
Hayden licked his lips. “Is—is everything alright, Max? You seem a bit off. Rundown.”
“Wow. Thanks for noticing.”
“That’s not what I meant. I just mean Dad and I have noticed and we’re worried you’re not taking care of yourself.”
I have millions of dollars sitting in my bank account. How could I not be taking care of myself?
“I’m fine,” I said. “You know how things get this time of year. It’s intense. Work is demanding and security is important this time of year. Clients have higher needs. Once all this Christmas nonsense is over I’ll be batting a thousand again. No need to worry about me.”
Hayden frowned. It made him look almost like his face was melting. “Christmas should be a time to relax and enjoy being with your family. Don’t you have people at Nova Corp who can help you manage some of the workload?”
Enjoy being with your family, I thought bitterly. My real family was dead—or wished they were. My mother had been gone a little over two years. My father since I was a baby. And my dear sister Catherine was afflicted with multiple sclerosis and I saw on a daily basis how brutal her struggle was.
Keith came and leaned on the island across from me. “Sorry to always be on your case, Max. We know you can handle yourself. It’s just hard to get a read on you sometimes, so we’re left to speculate and hope that you’re alright.”
Keith. Good guy through and through. The man of my mother’s dreams. The man who showed me how to ride a motorcycle and change my brakes. Hell, he taught me everything I knew about cars.
And just because he and Hayden weren’t blood didn’t mean they weren’t family.
I sighed. “I know. You both have good intentions. I’ll find a way to alleviate the pressure at work.”
Hayden and Keith both smiled at me and Hayden thumped me on the back. He didn’t know his own strength and I grunted with the force of it. “Sorry Max. But I’m glad to hear it. Now, you sure I can’t sell you on a rum and coke?”
I gave him a wry smile as he walked around the island to the fridge. “Alright. Force my hand why don’t you.”
By the time my rum and coke were sitting in front of me, Keith announced that dinner was ready. He pulled bowls out from an upper cupboard and made a crack about how tomorrow he’d be eating out of the Christmas dishes. My mother’s Christmas dishes. They had little houses on them with a snowman in the front yard. The fake snow was outlined in silver glitter.
Keith handed us each a bowl, which we filled up with steaming yellow chicken curry and brought to the dining room table. We sat and ate, and I endured the torture of listening to the two of them talk about how they wanted to put the outside lights up this year. Apparently Keith had purchased a blow up Santa, which I knew my mother would have thought was terribly tacky.
I didn’t say a word.
“So, how is Catherine?” Keith asked. “I invited her and she was supposed to come this evening, but she ended up having to stay late at the cafe.”
“Yeah. Some of her coworkers are kind of flaky. She’ll pick up any shift she can while she’s feeling good. You know how she is,” I said. I’d told her a thousand times my money was her money, but she wouldn’t have it. I admired her for it, but it didn’t change the fact that I wished so desperately to make her life easier and more comfortable.
“She loves that little coffee shop,” Hayden said, before shoveling curry into his mouth.
“It’s a good place for her. She likes the girls she works with and her boss is flexible with her hours. When things get tough she can take as much time off as she wants without having to worry about losing her job,” I said.
“Tell her we miss her?” Keith said.
I nodded. “I will. Can I pack up a container of curry and bring it to her?”
“Of course,” Keith grinned. “I know it’s not as good as what Valerie used to make, but I gave it my best shot.”
“Mom would have given you a gold star, Keith,” I said.
My stepfather smiled down into his bowl and the three of us went a little quiet. He sighed and when he spoke, he didn’t look up at me or Hayden. “This time of year is when I miss her the most.”
“Me too,” Hayden said.
It didn’t bother me to hear them expressing how much they missed my mother. She was a beautiful soul who brought light and warmth to everyone she met. Not having her around anymore was like not having a heartbeat anymore. I just felt empty. Hayden and Keith still seemed to get on alright. Sure, they had their weak moments, like that time I’d come over and found Keith on his knees in the living room after knocking over one of my mother’s china dishes while
he was vacuuming. He’d been literally sobbing over the broken pieces of china. Sobbing.
He hadn’t been able to pull himself together, so I swept up the broken shards, threw them away, and reminded him that it was just a plate. We hadn’t spoken for weeks after that. It was impossible to know if that was because he was embarrassed, or because he was angry at me for so easily throwing out my mother’s china.
But china and Christmas plates and decorations were nothing to me but constant reminders of the fact that she was gone. If I had it my way I’d have done away with all of it.
Especially the damn Christmas dishes.
And she wouldn’t have wanted us all holding on to her in the form of her possessions. She loved her things, sure. She loved to decorate and make her house feel like a home. She loved to sit by the fireplace with a good book cuddled under a soft blanket sipping Earl Grey tea.
But she loved all of us more than those things, and the way Hayden and Keith oriented their lives around her possessions made me wonder if they ever really knew her at all.
Perhaps they couldn’t know her the way Catherine and I did. And I couldn’t fault them for that. I was also painfully aware of the fact that they didn’t know how to behave around me or Catherine anymore. It was like they were always walking on eggshells. It all made sense, of course, but I wished I could change it. I wished they would stop treating me like I was as fragile as the damn china dish Keith had smashed to smithereens.
But that’s what family was for. To hover. To worry. To care.
Keith reached for his rum and coke and lifted it up. “To Valerie.”
I didn't say anything as I lifted my own glass. We finished the rest of the meal in comfortable silence.
Well, I was comfortable. Silence was better than talking. Keith and Hayden might have been going out of their minds for all I knew, trying to figure out what I was thinking about.
Which was my bed. And my quiet penthouse. A place free from prying eyes and concerned stares, just awaiting my arrival. A place that was my own and untouched by memories of my mother and what I had lost.
A place with no reminders of Christmas.
Brand New Man Page 2
