Authors: Fran Riedemann
The job required a significant amount of socializing, and the cycle would begin anew with the changing of each administration. The Red Cross was perpetually seeking funding, or refunding, on some level, and they didn’t raise it by standing on corners ringing hand bells. In spite of the charity’s stereotype of sympathy and compassion, jobs such as Ted’s had many enviable perks, including hobnobbing with the rich and influential, attending extravagant parties, and traveling worldwide on their behalf with Alma occasionally accompanying him.
Ted, was affable and charming, in a Jimmy Stewart sort of way. When Alma accompanied him she was well-spoken and charming, proving an asset to his courtship of mutually beneficial relationships and funding for the organization.
***
The Foster’s marriage was unilateral, so outside of the events that required them both to attend, the remainder of the time was benign of tangible affection. Another observable dynamic was, because their social life revolved around the Red Cross’s continuum of monetary courtship, they had few close friends. Brittany described their relationship as “chilly”.
Well before the Christmas holiday, Craig suggested to Brittany that she might want to offer to have Christmas at their house, a gesture of good will toward her mother. Begrudgingly, Brittany complied, knowing she was setting herself up in another ‘no win’ scenario. As expected, Alma declined her offer. So, upon their arrival at Alma’s for Christmas dinner, it was obvious Alma would not be taking any responsibility for lending the day any festivity. Craig, rather than keeping the conversation going, was unusually remote, leaving long silences with no remedy, and when his cell phone rang he all but ran outside to take the call.
“
Odd, don’t you think?” Alma remarked to Brittany, sipping some sherry while pointing a manicured finger toward Craig, who could be seen through the living room windows pacing back and forth on the front porch, doing more listening than talking. Brittany couldn’t deny his behavior was odd and his continued out of character behavior had moved from annoying to unsettling. But, she’d made the mistake of becoming defensive with her mother too often, so rather than reply, she shrugged, aware that her mother would continue to watch her.
Thankfully, Alma’s scrutiny of her daughter was interrupted when Brittany's younger brother, Brent, arrived with his fiancé, Sarah North. Brent was eight years younger than his sister and from birth had been Alma’s 'Golden Boy.' Due to her guests' arrival—and most certainly not out of the goodness of her heart—Alma gave Craig a pass on an inquisition. Brittany shuddered to think of the grilling they both would have received had Brent not arrived when he did.
Poor Sarah had no frame of reference by which to judge how the holiday with her future in-laws was going. From her curious, and somewhat furtive glances at each of them, it was obvious she was searching for some thread of hope the Larson’s regarded the holiday as festive in some way. Craig refused to mingle and remained distracted, poking at his food while checking his phone often. Brittany retreated into her own shell, her own appetite long gone. The atmosphere was subdued, and for Sarah’s sake, it was blamed on Ted’s passing.
After the gift exchange was mercifully over, Brittany and Craig made a hasty exit. No one objected.
After Craig joined the family and observed their dynamics first hand, after their first Christmas together he pointed out to Brittany
how he thought there was some behind the scenes gifting going on in her brother’s behalf. That thought had never occurred to Brittany although she realized he never left the celebration before she did. The following November, after eating Thanksgiving dinner at her mother’s, Brittany came across a relatively lengthy Christmas list in Brent’s handwriting left lying in the open on the planning desk in her mother’s kitchen.
She couldn’t resist asking her mother why she’d never been asked to supply such a list. Her addressing Brent's list became the one and only time she had ever seen, as she described to Craig later, “the Ice Princess crack”. Her mother’s reaction was both defensive and hostile. After that incident the guest room
door was conspicuously closed and locked at Thanksgiving and remained so until the Christmas Holiday had passed.
Brent had always been a “Mama’s Boy.” The relationship was kept from being overly obsessive by Ted, but with him now removed from the scene it was already becoming evident that a significant and unchecked co-dependency was maturing between the mother and son. Brittany hoped that Sarah would have the sense to run before she was swallowed up within it.
Normally she and Craig would have some good-natured fun at Brent’s expense after they left, but this year they drove home in silence.
Chapter Two
Once they were home, Craig immediately disappeared inside his office, closing the door behind him. This time she heard it lock. Brittany was becoming more enraged by the minute at his uncharacteristically bad behavior. His petulant demeanor had not only ruined the day, but seemingly, was he about to spoil what was left of the holiday. She poured herself a slug of Peppermint Schnapps and gulped it down, feeling it warm her throat on its way to her churning stomach, resolving that rather than tarnish the holiday further by starting an argument, she could wait a day to address it.
She busied herself by going through the motions of lighting a fire in the fireplace and making a pot of cocoa like she had done the last six Christmas’s since they were married. After setting out the mugs they purchased in Austria on their Honeymoon, she poured the steaming beverage into them, plopping a dollop of whipping cream on top, and arranging them on a tray, along with some cookies and peanut butter fudge her neighbor had brought over earlier, and the bottle of Peppermint Schnapps.
The fire and flickering candle light warmed the room while the soft strains of Christmas music played for the last time that season, but Brittany was oblivious to both. Her heart felt like a stone inside her chest as the cocoa grew cold, and dread loomed like an ominous shadow hovering over her.
She continued to wait for him to join her, trying to recall what she might have done to cause him to withdraw from her, but could come up with nothing. She curled herself into a tense ball, obsessing about what was wrong while watching the fire dwindle, pushing back the fear. She would wait. This was, after all, one of their very deliberate Christmas traditions.
***
Brittany worked for a well-read, and edgy, women’s magazine. She did copy editing and loved her work, but she aspired to become a contributor.. While it could be tedious at times, she was experiencing parts of the trade that could not be learned in school, and part of her long-term strategy was for it to provide a good springboard for her to become an author. While editing didn’t offer some of the more glamorous perks other careers within the company did, one particular advantage was, if desired, she could work from home.
Most of the staff was young, talented, and competitive in a good way, which created an atmosphere that caused her to wake up each morning eager to get to the office Her co-workers also had a fetish for good coffee, each taking turns supplying exotic blends to “experience”, as they liked to say, and their fetish rubbed off on Brittany. The atmosphere in their office was charged with pseudo-sophistication, and she rarely missed a day for any reason, staying home to work would have seemed punitive.
Craig held the position of assistant CFO for a real estate holding company that had varied interests spread across the country. Like Brittany, he loved his job for the added educational benefits it offered, and the many connections he made beyond his job description.
Their jobs were demanding, but whether they ordered in a pizza, or collaborated as they cooked their dinner, they dedicated that time to connect. From the beginning of their relationship they made it a point to use that hour to take turns telling each other about their day and personalizing each other’s workplaces with anecdotes about the people, and the clients they served. Their friendships were a collection of colleagues they integrated into an interesting grouping of colorful people.
***
Brittany continued to wait. Craig was still locked in his office; she reached for a throw and wrapped it around her, shivering in spite of her proximity to the waning fire.
Her dad’s passing had rocked her world and she continued to wonder if she would ever be free from the waves of sadness that stalked her. No one had to warn her the holidays would be difficult and had been preparing herself for that fact. Craig, more than anyone, knew how much she was dreading them, which made his behavior even more baffling.
Deep in thought, she was startled when the door opened and a shaft of light angled across the living room floor, resting on her. Craig’s face was obscured by the light source behind him; he hesitated in the doorway. She could hear him sighing, which was habitual whenever he was facing some unpleasant task—and it was never a good sign. She wished she could see his face.
After what seemed like an eternity, he walked across the room to stand over her, the light behind him still obscuring his expression. She felt powerless, and the unbidden sense of fear gripped her again, this time making her queasy. In an attempt to gain some control Brittany gestured for him to sit down in the chair next to hers, but he shook his head no. She noticed he was clutching a manila envelope tightly in both hands, unnecessary other than to perhaps keep his hands steady. Brittany clasped her own, as if the shaking might be contagious.
He cleared his throat, and sighed again, “Brit, there is no easy way to do this—to tell you this, but something has come up and I have to leave. I am leaving you—tonight.” He spoke to her in a low tone, with a tremor in his voice that left no remaining doubt to the seriousness of what was occurring.
Trying again, she gestured for him to please sit down, still not grasping what he was telling her, thinking he meant something to do with business. He ignored her gesture, holding the envelope out for her to take. Reluctantly she took it from him, asking, “What do you mean you have to leave? Tonight? But why?”
Once he was relieved of the envelope he stepped back, sighing again before answering, “Brit, I am filing for a divorce. I’m sorry you had to find out this way, but an emergency has come up. Believe me; I wanted to do this another way…”
There it came, out of nowhere, the blindside move, the checkmate, game over—her Christmas surprise.
***
The impatient honking of a horn from outside the house interrupted him, allowing him a reprieve from going into more detail. He looked out the window, clearly relieved to not have to continue, announcing, “It’s my cab. I need to get to the airport to catch a plane. I’ll be leaving my car here for the time being. Brit, I know you have questions, but they will have to wait. I have to go.” He looked toward the window again, and then at the fire, at the door, the ceiling, his feet…anywhere but at her.
“
That’s it?” She asked him, incredulous—she wasn’t going to let him walk out without some explanation.
He cleared his throat, “I’ve been seeing someone. It was her father who called me this afternoon at your mother’s; she was pregnant had a miscarriage; she is hemorrhaging. He says her condition is serious and insists that I come—now. He sent a plane for me.” He paused and added, almost pleading, “Please don’t call me. If you need to contact me do it through my attorney; his number is in the envelope.” Unable to look at her, he offered a lam-“You deserve better than me…”
“
If you recall, that’s what my mother told me after I introduced you to them.” Brittany couldn’t believe the distant, cold voice she heard speaking belonged to her. But, she could tell they hit their mark; because for the first time he looked right at her.
“
She did say it, and she was right. I know this won’t be easy to explain and I’m sorry for that.”
The horn sounded again, this time requiring him to dash outside to tell the driver to wait. By the time he returned Brittany was on her feet. She felt numb, sick to her stomach, and twinges of anger were surfacing, but she was, after all, her mother’s daughter, and for once she was thankful that the years of walking around with books on her head, and having been tutored how to pretend that everything was fine when it wasn’t, were kicking in.
“
I take it she lives somewhere else?” she asked in the same strange, brittle voice, while following him upstairs, incredulously watching him stuff random articles of clothing and toiletries into his carry-on bag. “Yes, she lives in Winnetka, Illinois, near Chicago. Her parents live there, also—that’s where we will live.”
After a few minutes, he resumed his painful dialog, “Brittany, don’t worry about money. I am going to be very fair with you financially. In the morning I intend to transfer enough money into your checking account for you to use to pay off any outstanding bills and your car. If I calculated wrong, let me know and I’ll deposit more. It’s unfortunate, but you will probably need to sell the house, but do it when it feels right. I had it appraised and there is some equity even if you price it low; the equity is yours—I don’t want it. I’m leaving those details up to you.” He paused for his words to sink in, before adding, “I won’t be coming back.”