Merry Ex-Mas (9 page)

"Yeah," I said with a little bit of a moan. "And then, maybe I wouldn't have ruined everyone's day."

"Who said you did that? Christopher, Tori, Evon, and your mom are waiting for us."

I frowned. "Waiting? For what?"

"We never opened our gifts."

My grin was immediate, and I clapped my hands. "Our gifts! This is how you know the children are grown. It's what
…
almost four o'clock and we haven't opened presents?"

"Nope. And that's how you know Christmas hasn't been ruined. Because the best part is still to come." He held out his hand, and I took just a moment to look at it before I hooked my fingers with his.

"Come on," he said, "let's go open some gifts."

He pulled me closer, kissed my cheek, and together we walked from the room.

And all I could think was that no matter what gifts waited for me under that tree, nothing would ever match the gift that I'd been given when I married Brock Eugene Goodman. Even with all that had gone down today, there was nothing but joy in my world.

I stared into my coffee and watched the stream circle up to me. My eyes were bleary from my lack of sleep, and it took a tremendous effort for me to even lift my head. When I did, my eyes focused on the old-fashioned apple-shaped clock that had been hanging over the sink since I was a kid.

The hands on the clock had long ago rusted, but still the clock ticked and told the time: It was just about ten minutes to six.

Christmas morning had arrived.

It was almost as if I couldn't look away from the clock. And as I stared, I remembered. And as I remembered, I couldn't help but smile
…

"Ssssh," I whispered to my little sister. "We can't wake them up yet, Sabrina. Not until six."

"Why not?" Sabrina whined. "Santa Claus left a long time ago. See," she picked up the saucer where our father had left three chocolate chip cookies the night before. Sabrina wouldn't go to bed until Santa's snacks had been set out. "And Santa put the glass in the sink, too. See," Sabrina said, pointing.

"Dang, that Santa sure is messy," I said picking up the glass. "Next time, he should wash it."

Sabrina shook her head. "He couldn't. He didn't have time because he had to take the reindeer all around the world."

I laughed and wondered if I'd been that gullible when I was five. I couldn't remember when I'd stop believing in Santa Claus, but whenever it was, now that I was twelve, I knew the whole truth. But I loved my baby sister too much to spoil it for her.

"Can we wake up Mama and Daddy now?"

Sabrina's whisper came out so loud, I put my hand over her mouth to quiet her down. "Sssh....we just have ten more minutes. It's almost six."

We tiptoed back to our bedroom, and I climbed into my bed. But right across from me, Sabrina sat on the edge of hers. "Is it time yet?" That was the question she asked me for the next nine minutes.

Finally, I nodded and Sabrina jumped up and dashed out of the room before I could even get my feet to hit the floor.

"Mama! Daddy! Santa came," Sabrina shouted as she ran down the hall. "You have to come and see!"

I had to shake my head a little to drag myself back to the present. The happiness that I'd felt on that Christmas morning and on the many Christmases that followed was supposed to last forever.

But the first sign that my forever was going to be short-lived was when my mother passed away five years later. And then after what happened with me, Sabrina and Anthony, Christmas became a holiday that was no longer to be celebrated with family. In fact, I spent most Christmases alone
—
though no one knew that. I always told my father that I was spending the holiday with friends. But in actuality, Christmas was just another workday for me.

Now though, with what my father told me the other day, this was a new Christmas; this was his Christmas.

So, I was going to do this, though it was going to be tough. Which is exactly why I stayed here with my dad last night. This way, there was no chance of me waking up this morning, getting in my car, and heading to San Diego or San Francisco or anyplace that wasn't Compton.

I had to smile a little bit at that thought. I could see myself in my convertible with the hood down and me speeding down Pacific Coast Highway. Maybe that's what I should've done. I glanced at the clock again; maybe I still had time to do it.

"No!" I scolded myself, even though I kept my eyes on that clock. I needed to be here, I needed to do this, and I could do it. I started my mantra all over again. "I can do this."

"I used to find your mother in here talking to herself just about every morning."

I shifted my glance from the clock to the doorway where my father stood. I was surprised; I usually heard my dad approaching as his slippers slid against the wooden tiles in the hallway. But I guess I'd been so deep in my thoughts, I hadn't heard him at all.

Without another word, he shuffled toward the counter, poured a cup of coffee, then sat down at the kitchen table with me. "You remind me so much of your mother, you know."

New memories came to my mind. Memories of my mother, the most beautiful mother in the world. I remembered being a teenager and watching
The Cosby Show
, and I'm telling you, I was sure that someone from NBC had come to our house and stolen a picture of my mom. She looked just like Clair Huxtable. But that was all that was left of my mother
—
the photos and the memories.

"Yup. I used to find your mother in here all the time." My father shook his head. "So many memories."

"Yeah. Memories everywhere in this house." My eyes swept through the kitchen. "Especially in here."

"Show me a home where the kitchen is the heart, and I'll show you a happy family." He chuckled. "We had good times, right here, right at this table."

I had to nod at that. "This is where I did my homework, where I learned how to sew."

"Where you learned how to cook."

"Not as good as Mama, though." I laughed. "But I tried."

"You certainly did, baby girl." He sighed, the sound filled with contentment. "Nothing but the best of memories, but I think some of my best memories are still to be made. They're in front of me."

I tilted my head and studied my father. "How do you do it, Daddy? How do you keep such a positive attitude in the midst of all of this?"

He shrugged. "It is what it is. None of us are gonna get out of life alive." He chuckled and the way he looked at me, it felt like he was waiting for me to join him.

But I didn't want to laugh
…
all I wanted to do was cry.

My father kept on, "It's easy for me to be positive. I know God's gonna work this thing out. If He does it on this side, I'll be given a few more years. If He does it on the other side, I know where I'm going, and I'm not afraid to get there. Either way, I'm gonna be healed. Plus," he paused for a moment, "whenever God calls me home, I have to say that I'm looking forward to seeing a few people."

A beat, and then, I said, "Mama?"

He nodded. "I don't know what heaven will be like. But I pray that I get the chance to tell Elena once again how much I love her and how sorry I am."

I did what I always did when my father talked about my mother this way
—
I kept my mouth shut. Because even though I was only seven years old when it happened, I was smart enough to understand that what happened was between my parents. And, I'd always been smart enough to leave it between my parents.

Of course when it happened, my heart broke for my mother. What daughter wouldn't feel sorrow, watching her mother cry for what seemed like months? Then, watching her finally accept her husband's apology for not only having an affair, but for bringing home the evidence of his infidelity after his Caucasian mistress and her family wanted nothing to do with the bronze-skinned child.

My father may have had a short-term affair, but it'd had long-term effects. My mother had agreed to raise her husband's child since the only other choice was foster care.

My mother had such a servant's soul, and I saw how hard she tried to love Sabrina. But with my young eyes, I could also see that every bit of love my mother gave to Sabrina broke my mother's heart just a little bit more until she had nothing left. And when it was all gone, she died
—
on her and my father's twentieth wedding anniversary.

My mother had left behind a husband, a stepdaughter, and a biological daughter who vowed that I would never suffer the pain that she did. I'd never give my heart away to anyone. I made that promise while standing over my mother's casket
—
that I would never get married.

"Yes," my father's voice came through my morbid memories. "I want the chance to tell your mother once again that I never meant to hurt her." And then he paused as if his words were some kind of set up. "Just like Anthony and Sabrina never meant to hurt you."

I sighed. "I'm so tired of hearing that, Daddy. But you know what? It doesn't even matter anymore. All that matters is you. This is your Christmas."

He chuckled. "This isn't my day; it belongs to all of us." My dad put down his cup and patted my hand. "I thank you for this, baby girl. I thank you for this one last holiday
…
"

"Don't say that, Daddy. Please don't say that."

He sat back and shook his head. "Don't you worry. I'm not gonna just accept this. Death ain't carrying me away without a fight."

"That's what I want to hear."

"But," he said, taking back the little bit of relief his words had just given me, "I also know the reality of it all. So, I'm ready. Whenever God calls me home, I'm ready. But you know what?" he added. "I don't want to talk about this today, all right? Today is all about celebration. Today, I'll have my two baby girls with me, and that's what's going to make me happy this Christmas."

I nodded and scooted my chair over a bit to get closer to my father. Then I leaned over and hugged him. "Merry Christmas, Daddy," I whispered.

"Merry Christmas, baby girl, Merry Christmas."

It was this moment that had kept me awake for most of the night. This moment when I would hear the car door slam and their footsteps coming toward the house.

But even though I'd thought about it for hours, I still didn't know what to do. Should I rise to greet them at the door? Or should I wait nonchalantly for them to come in, sitting as if I didn't care and hardly noticed their presence?

This was a big moment for me. I had to do it right. There was no doubt that Sabrina and Anthony were prepared for me because of Dad. So, I just wanted to be as ready for them.

As the faint footsteps on the brick walkway became louder and louder, I jumped up and scurried to the door. Decision made
—
I would do what I always did
—
I'd face my problems head on.

I whipped the door open, then stood there.

First up
…
my sister. My dad called me his baby girl, but Sabrina was his golden girl.

The last time I'd seen my sister this close, I'd tried to run her over with my car. I'd missed, of course. And frankly, perhaps murdering my sister wasn't exactly what I really wanted to do that day. She and Anthony hadn't been married yet, but they were certainly married now. And Sabrina had the bulging belly to prove that Anthony completely belonged to her.

"Hi, Kendall," Sabrina said with hesitation in her voice, but with a smile on her face that made her look like she was having a golden day.

My eyes were still on my sister's belly when I gave Sabrina my own version of hello, "You're pregnant."

In all the scenarios I'd imagined during the night, those words were not the first that I'd expected to say. I had wanted to be cool, collected, and clearly in charge in this moment. But what else was I supposed to say
…
I don't know why, but I was shocked.

Dad should've definitely told me about this. Not that I could really blame my father for not saying anything to me. He'd tried to share news of my sister with me all the time in the first few years, especially about her leukemia and how she'd gone into remission. But beyond her illness, whenever he brought her up, I did what I did best
…
I'd shut him down. And soon, my father just gave up.

But this
…
this was something that he should have insisted that I hear.

It wasn't until Sabrina leaned in and wrapped her arms around me that I realized my sister wanted a hug.

Really?

But today was Christmas.

I planted my feet, so that I couldn't jerk away, and then I reciprocated Sabrina's hug, giving my sister two quick taps on her back.

Sabrina's eyes shone brighter and her smile was wider when she stepped back. As if she was thrilled that I had actually almost hugged her
—
and hadn't hit her. "It really is good to see you," she said, sounding like she meant it.

I wasn't going to lie, not even with a smile. But I did manage to mumble, "Merry Christmas."

That seemed to be good enough for Sabrina as she moved aside.

And now, there was Anthony.

In the past six years, I'd had the opportunity to see Anthony a couple of times more than Sabrina. Two meetings, for the purpose of closing out our business partnership. Anthony had given me full ownership of the company we'd started together, the Women's Place
—
an upscale health club that provided fitness and beauty services
—
and I'd given Anthony our dream beach home in Malibu.

From the moment I'd discovered Sabrina in bed with my husband, Anthony had wanted our breakup to be amicable. So much so, that he actually had the audacity to invite me to their wedding. But since I called people who betrayed me enemies rather than friends, I wasn't interested in maintaining a relationship with the two people I'd once loved the most.

But maybe time
…
and fineness healed all wounds. Because now that Anthony stood in front of me, still looking like a super-size order of chocolate decadence, I didn't feel as bad as I thought I would.

"Merry Christmas, Kendall," he said with all that baritone in his voice.

He placed the two shopping bags he held against the wall, then reached out to pull me into his arms for a hug. His hug was different from my sister's. His hug lingered. It was a hug that was much more than I expected, much more than I wanted. But it wasn't awkward, not the way it had been with Sabrina. I kind of settled into Anthony's embrace, closed my eyes, inhaled the fragrance of his cologne, and remembered so much.

That was when I had to take a step back. I had to because it seemed that Anthony wasn't going to be the one to do it. When I looked up and into Anthony's eyes, I didn't find it as hard to smile.

"You're looking good, Kendall."

I knew that. I had gone through a lot of trouble to make sure. I'd stayed casual of course. My outfit, skinny jeans, with a hip-length white tank top, and loads of silver chains that matched my earrings and bracelets, was perfect for this extraordinarily warm Christmas Day. Only my above-the-knee brown stiletto boots gave any hint that it was winter.

But I'd always known that it was more than the clothes that made the woman. And that's why I worked out so much. Really, for the past six years, that's all I'd been doing
—
working and working out. My body and I were the best advertisement for The Women's Place. But to be honest, somewhere inside, I kinda felt like I'd been working out for this day, too. The day when Anthony would see me for the first time.

Anthony wore a smile, but besides that, I couldn't tell from his expression if his mind was filled with what ifs. But whether he had moments of regret or not, one thing was for sure
—
this was the first time in my life when I looked better than my giga-gorgeous sister. Of course, the major reason for that had to do with nature
—
Sabrina looked like she was minutes away from giving birth
—
everything from her face to her feet was swollen. But still, I was going to claim the victory any way I could get it.

"Yeah, you look really good," Anthony emphasized as if he wanted to make sure I'd heard him.

"You do look good," Sabrina said, closing the gap between her and her husband. She hooked her arm through Anthony's. "Dad's told us that you were doing well. And your business was, too. I hear women talking about The Women's Place everywhere I go." She paused and added. "I refer a lot of women there
…
to you
…
"

Sabrina left those words hanging in the air and I wondered what my sister wanted me to say. Thank you? It was difficult for me to give Sabrina any kind of thanks for anything while she was standing there holding onto Anthony.

So, I said nothing and motioned for Anthony and Sabrina to sit down. I directed them as if I was in charge, as if this were my place.

Anthony grabbed his shopping bags with gift-wrapped packages peeking over the top and shoved the bags under the tree. Then, in two seconds flat, he was back at Sabrina's side, helping her settle onto the sofa.

I snuggled into the worn chair across from them and studied the couple: how Anthony piled the pillows behind Sabrina's back and then waited until she nodded before he sat down.

For just an instant, I wondered how this scene would have played out if it were me and Anthony? I probably would have swatted him away
—
all that fussing over me when I could take care of myself.

But Sabrina seemed to relish it. And when Anthony sat down, he sat so close their bodies were almost one. Sabrina reached for his hand, and they held each other.

Now, I tried to imagine me sitting there with Anthony, but the only images that I could conjure up in my mind were me and Anthony in a boardroom. Truly, those were the only dreams I'd ever had for the two of us.

"So, Sabrina's right," Anthony said. "Dad has been keeping us abreast of all that's been going on with you."

My glance went right back to Sabrina's belly. "Well, he hasn't told me much about you two."

"That's because I felt that was something your sister should tell you."

The three of us looked up.

"Hi, Daddy!" Sabrina exclaimed, then moved as if she wanted to jump up. But she didn't make it all the way to her feet until Anthony stood beside her and hoisted her up. Then she rushed to our father, as if she'd never been so happy to see him.

I knew that my sister's enthusiasm wasn't just about greeting Dad on Christmas. Sabrina was probably just thrilled to have another ally in the room. That would make it three against one
—
to Sabrina, those odds were much more even.

Sabrina and Anthony greeted Dad, and I took in the laughter of the three as they exchanged Christmas good wishes, and hugs, and kisses. My father did a little quick boxing move with Anthony, and I marveled at just how effortlessly they moved together. Just like I did with him.

Of course, I knew that my father saw Sabrina and Anthony on the regular, but it wasn't until now that I thought about the three of them together. My dad had this whole other life with my sister. A life that included dinners and outings, birthdays and holidays. A life that was shared by a family. A life without me.

I wasn't complaining; this had been my choice. But all this time, I'd kinda believed that I was my father's only light. Clearly, though, I wasn't my father's only love.

Was that where the tug on my heart was coming from? Suddenly, I had this feeling that I'd missed out on so much.

"Okay, let's get you back on the couch," my dad said, finally breaking up their little family moment.

He reached for Sabrina's elbow, and my sister laughed. "Daddy, I'm just pregnant. You're treating me like I can't do anything."

"I don't care what you say," my dad said. "We're talking 'bout my first grandbaby here."

His words brought another tug to my heart. Sabrina was younger, yet she was going to be the one to give our dad probably the only earthly desire he had left. Especially now.

Once Sabrina was settled again, Dad sat next to me. "So, you're surprised about the baby, huh?" He grinned and patted my hand.

"Very."

"Well, like I said, I never said anything because that's something I wanted Sabrina to tell you." He paused. "I just think that there are some things sisters should share."

He left his words right there, as if that were a lesson for both of us.

Sabrina nodded as if she accepted what our father was trying to teach us. I didn't move.

Then, silence came and hovered over us like a low hanging cloud. I couldn't imagine that my dad, Sabrina, and Anthony had nothing to say. Maybe it was that my father, my sister, and my ex had plenty to say, but they just didn't want to say it in front of me. Silent seconds always seemed longer, and I wondered just how long this misery was going to last.

The sound of children's glee wafted through the windows, probably kids out on the streets showing off their new Christmas toys: tricycles, bicycles, and skateboards. But the sounds of Christmas were all outside. There was not a bit of the gaiety of the day inside these four walls.

When no one spoke up, I raked through my mind for something to say. But all that came out, though, was, "So, how's the house?"

Sabrina and Anthony exchanged a look. Then, Anthony said, "We sold the house. Not too long after
…
"

When he stopped, I raised my eyebrows. Why was he hesitating? So, I said it for him. "Your wedding?"

He nodded.

"You could have said that." I waved my hand in the air as if none of this was a big deal. "We're all grownups; after what happened between us, we should be able to talk about anything. Trust me, after finding your sister screwing your husband in your bed, there's nothing
…
"

"Kendall!"

"No, Daddy. Let me finish. I'm just saying no one has to tiptoe around me 'cause I'm surely not gonna tiptoe around anyone."

"We did sell the house after we got married," Sabrina spoke up, as if it would be better to talk about it and get it over with. "Because I didn't want to live there. It didn't feel like I should be there. It felt like I'd taken that from you."

My mouth opened wide. I'm telling you, if it could have, my jaw would've been on the floor. But no words came out of me, only laughter. I leaned back and howled as if Sabrina's statements were the funniest lines I'd ever heard. I laughed so hard, tears began to flow.

But then, when I looked up, I was surprised that I was the only one laughing. "I'm sorry," I said. "I just can't believe you said that."

The three of them stared at me like I was having some kind of breakdown.

So I broke it down for them. "You felt like you were taking the house from me?" I said, looking straight at my sister. "You're a little mixed up, Sabrina. You
took
my husband; I
gave
you the house."

"Kendall!" my father snapped again.