Authors: Meg Gray
“What is it?” he asked with heavy
impatience.
“On the Crosby matter,” she began.
Marcus rubbed his hand across his upper
lip, annoyed. He thought this matter was quiet. The real estate acquisition
wasn’t scheduled to close until the middle of next year. What could the issue
be now?
“I just received a call from the title
company, and they asked me to send them a draft deed for review. Can I draft
and send this without your review?”
Can she draft and send this,
was she serious? She walked all the way down the hall and knocked on his door
to ask if she could draft and send a deed. In her time at the firm, she’d
drafted at least a dozen deeds and
still
, he thought,
she needed his
go-ahead
?
“Yes,” he told her and then the alarm on
his cell phone buzzed. “I’ve got to go pick up Brayden now. If you have any
other question just ask Dennis or call my cell.”
“Okay,” she said, obviously irritated.
Marcus knew he favored Dennis who started
at the firm a year after Abigail, but the man caught on quickly, needed less
reassurance, and didn’t resemble Vanessa in the slightest. It was unfair, but he
couldn’t help it.
“Well, Happy Holidays,” she added,
shaking away her irritation. “Have a wonderful vacation. I’ll see you next year.”
“Yes, Happy Holidays,” he grumbled as
she left his office. Marcus closed down his computer and gathered his
briefcase. His holiday would be far from happy, bearable if he was lucky, and
this jaunt to Seattle would never qualify as a vacation.
Christmas lights wrapped the lampposts
downtown and twinkled in the store windows catching Marcus’s eye as he drove to
the school—more reminders that the year was ending. He had survived another
year without Vanessa, in this new and unimagined life. It pained him to visit
Seattle for the holidays. In the past, he’d kept his visits short, arriving on
Christmas Eve and leaving the day after Christmas. This year was different. His
grandfather’s eighty-fifth birthday, being celebrated tomorrow night, and the
50th Anniversary Party for Lewis and Sons Law Firm on January 2nd had roped him
into a full two week stay at his parents’ house on Mercer Island.
The school building, which was usually a
ghost town by this hour of the day, was aglow with blazing lights in many of the
first floor windows. Parked cars lined both sides of the street and Marcus was
surprised to see someone in the school’s office when he walked inside.
Brayden sat on a bench outside the
gymnasium with the after-school program teacher, waiting to be picked up.
“Ready to go, Bray?” he asked, ignoring
the college girl next to him.
Brayden slid from the bench, dragging
his backpack.
“Bye Brayden. Have fun at the Winter
Concert tonight. I know you’ll do great,” the girl called behind them.
Brayden turned but didn’t wave or smile
at the girl.
Winter Concert? What Winter Concert?
Marcus tried to recall any mention of a Winter Concert and then he saw the big
green poster by the door. Tonight was the winter concert and it started at 6:30.
He must have walked past this sign every day this week when he picked up
Brayden. How had he not noticed it? The little asterisk at the bottom said all
students should be in their classrooms by 6:15, which Marcus realized glancing
at his watch, was right now. No wonder the school was buzzing with people.
Marcus made a quick U-turn and Brayden followed still dragging his backpack.
They were almost to the classroom door when his cell phone rang.
Marcus took the call, waving Brayden
into his classroom and then walked back to the gymnasium. He kept the
conversation short and hung up as he took a seat in a wooden folding chair
along the far aisle. In his hands, he held the green folded paper a ten-year
old handed him at the door. On the first page, he found his son’s name when his
phone rang again.
Not surprisingly, it was Abigail. Marcus
answered, pressing his free hand against his other ear, straining to hear her
as the chaotic mess of voices echoed through the gymnasium. He stood and
hurried out a double set of metal doors. The air outside was crisp and cool,
his breath immediately fogged as he spoke into the phone. He dropped his chin
to his chest, trying to avoid the cold stings of the icy rain. He cut the call
short, instructed Abigail not to call for the next hour, and returned to the
gymnasium.
The kindergartners were already taking
their place on stage and Marcus’s aisle seat was occupied. He walked around to
the back, turning his cell phone off before stuffing it into his pocket, just
in case Abigail forgot how to read the hands on a clock.
There was a seat in the last row and
Marcus took it. He looked up to see Brayden watching him, through sharp blue
eyes. Brayden’s round cheeks and fair complexion were instant reminders of his
mother. Marcus looked away, as he often did, when the resemblance struck a
painful chord inside of him.
The pianist played the first notes of
Deck
the Halls
and the children’s voices joined in.
The audience applauded loudly after each
song. When the kindergartners finished they stepped off the risers and followed
their teachers to the side of the gymnasium, where they watched the rest of the
concert.
Marcus’s eyes fell on Ms. Hewitt who sat
at the end of her two rows of students as the first graders performed a song
about wandering snowflakes. Two girls halfway down the first row squirmed and
giggled but with one quick look from their teacher, they quieted.
For the final performance,
all the children gathered bells in their hands and shook them with fervor as
they sang
Jingle Bells
.
A woman who identified
herself as Deborah Wolf, the principal, began a series of announcements as the
students filed out of the gymnasium and back to their classrooms. Marcus only
half-listened as the woman with the drawn cheeks, pointed nose and ashen gray
hair talked about the New Year and the schedule for upcoming events. Once she
gave the command
everyone
was waiting for, the gymnasium doors opened like the spillways of a dam and
families poured outside and into the hallways in search of their performers.
Marcus took his time exiting the gym, in
no hurry to fight the crowds swarming in the halls. Up ahead of him he saw two
familiar figures. They turned into Ms. Hewitt’s classroom and he heard the
unmistakable voice of the woman he’d seen in his office building, “Oh, Emma they
were just darling.”
Marcus stood outside the door and heard
Ms. Hewitt reply, “Thanks, Stace. I have a few more kids to dismiss and then
I’ll be ready to go.”
“No problem,” her friend said and
grabbed the arm of the man she’d walked in with, Ms. Hewitt’s roommate. “We’ll
wait in the hall. Too many little people in here for me.” She clicked her way
out into the hall in her shiny red heels, a sour expression on her face as if
the presence of children made her queasy.
The roommate—
Seth was it?
—let the
woman drag him out the door and gave Marcus a curt nod of recognition as they
passed.
Brayden sat hunched over a table on the
opposite wall, his back to the door. Ms. Hewitt caught Marcus’s eye and walked
toward Brayden.
“Good bye Mallory. Good bye Stella,” she
called as two girls left with their mothers.
Brayden pulled the headphones off his
head when Ms. Hewitt tapped his shoulder. “Your dad is here,” she told him.
Brayden turned to look at him and then back around.
Great, Brayden looked to be in one of
his moods and Marcus was short on patience at the moment. A vision of him
carrying his son out of the building red-faced and yelling flashed in his mind.
Marcus rubbed at the pain building behind his eyes.
“Good bye Mizz Hoo-it,” a little boy
said, walking out of the classroom with his father.
“Good bye, Carl.” She waved and then
bent down next to Brayden. He was the only child left in the room. “It’s time
to go, Brayden,” she said, her voice as sweet as honey.
“I don’t want to,” Brayden said,
dropping the book and headphones down on the table. He slumped back in the
chair and crossed his arms. Marcus was ready to jump in and reprimand his son
before Ms. Hewitt could, but she surprised him by not reacting at all. She
simply turned, picked up a puzzle from the next table and returned it to the
shelf.
Marcus rubbed his hand over his brow
again, getting ready to drag Brayden out, when Ms. Hewitt spoke again.
She was kneeling next to Brayden now,
“You need to go home and get some rest. We have a big day tomorrow.”
“He won’t be here tomorrow,” Marcus cut
in and Brayden’s sharp gaze locked on him.
“Excuse me?” Ms. Hewitt asked as she stood,
her face looking as confused as Brayden’s.
“We’re leaving for Seattle in the
morning. For the holidays,” Marcus explained.
“Oh right,” Ms. Hewitt said. “Brayden
mentioned going to his grandparents. Is this the grandpa with the horse and the
barn?”
Brayden was turned in his chair,
watching the two of them talk.
“Uh, no. His grandparents do not have a
horse or a barn.”
Why would Brayden say that?
He couldn’t be thinking
about the race horses Vanessa’s father owned a while back. He was an infant
when they went to see them at the stables in Olympia—there was no way he could
remember that, was there? No, no way he’d remember that, he must have been
lying again.
“I’m sorry he lied to you Ms. Hewitt.
Please rest assured I will handle this at home. There is no tolerance for lying
in our family.” Marcus’s voice was stern and he saw Brayden look to his
teacher.
Ms. Hewitt stepped in front of Brayden
and fixed her eyes on him. Her face was serious, but her voice remained light.
“At this age Mr. Lewis, it’s called imagination. Brayden has a wonderful and
vivid imagination. I don’t think his story was intended to do anything more
than entertain.” She turned back to Brayden, smiling. “And I really enjoyed the
picture you drew today and the story you told me about the farm. It was great.”
She laid a gentle hand on Brayden’s shoulder and returned her gaze to his as if
asking if he understood what she was saying. Marcus nodded ever so slightly and
then looked at Brayden who also seemed to have relaxed.
“C’mon Brayden. We need to get going.
Ms. Hewitt has friends waiting for her and we need to let her get on with her
evening.”
Brayden showed no signs of movement and
as Marcus prepared to dive in and retrieve his son Ms. Hewitt struck again.
“Brayden, I’m so disappointed you won’t
be here tomorrow, but I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time in Seattle. It’ll
be so exciting to visit your grandparents and I can’t wait to hear about it
when you come back to school. Right now, it’s time to get your coat. While you
put it on I’ll get your stocking down and I have a special present for you to
take with you too.”
Miraculously Brayden got to his feet,
moved to his coat locker, and pulled on his coat. Ms. Hewitt walked up to
Marcus and handed over a lunch-size paper bag with a glitter-covered stocking
stapled to the front. “This is Brayden’s stocking. The other children and some
of the staff have been filling it all week with little surprises for each
other.”
Marcus opened his mouth, but Ms. Hewitt
cut him off sensing what he was about to say.
“There are notes in his backpack about
the activity. I’ve been sending them home for a couple of weeks.” How had she
known he was going to say he didn’t know anything about needing to bring
presents in for the other kids?
Brayden appeared next to him, coat and
backpack on. Ms. Hewitt pulled a small square package from the cabinet behind
her desk, wrapped in blue snowflake paper. Brayden’s eyes twinkled as she
approached and handed the gift to Marcus.
“Now you can open this when your dad
says it’s okay,” she told Brayden and he nodded. “Merry Christmas,” she said
smiling at both of them.
“Thank you,” Marcus responded. “Merry
Christmas to you too.”
Marcus followed Brayden to the door.
“Hey Dad,” Brayden said as the two of
them reached the threshold. “Did you know Ms. Hewitt grew up on a farm and she’s
going there for Christmas?”
Marcus stopped and turned to look back
at Ms. Hewitt who was pulling on her black wool coat. “No I didn’t,” he said
and she smiled at them as they walked out the door.
Emma knew Stacy’s appearance at her
kindergartners’ winter concert was going to be called on as a favor at some
point—she just hadn’t anticipated it so soon. Stacy was on the phone in crisis
mode on Saturday morning, Emma’s first official day of Winter Vacation.
“Slow down, Stacy. I can’t understand a word
you’re saying. What test?”
“I had an STD test this week. And I
didn’t want to say anything and ruin your little show with your munchkins. It’s
probably nothing, but I was just reading on Brad’s Facebook page that Ella said
Michael had some rash. I didn’t think much of it until I heard Carol, from my
office, tell Amy that she heard Marcia had the clap and I’m pretty sure she
hooked up with Michael before I did and well, I don’t know, I just thought I
should get tested.”
“Okay,” Emma replied, her mind trying to
catch up with the words Stacy had fired off. “So, what did the test say?”
“I don’t know, Em,” she whined. “That’s
what I’ve been trying to tell you. I have the results right here in front of
me, but I can’t open them. I need you to do it. Please, please, please, can you
come and do this for me.”
Emma rolled her eyes. This wasn’t the
first time Stacy begged for a hand to hold or pleaded for a midnight run to the
drugstore for a pregnancy test because she was two days late. Each time, Emma
hoped the stress and anxiety of her promiscuity would prompt Stacy to change
her ways, but every time she seemed to get a pass.
Who was Michael anyway? Or Brad or Ella
or Marcia? Emma had no connection to these people, but that didn’t matter right
now.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Emma reassured her
friend. “Just open the envelope. I’m right here on the phone with you. It will
be fine. You used a condom right?”
“Well, not at first. I don’t think.
Maybe it was Jack that…”
“Okay, okay,” Emma said, cutting her
friend off. She walked out to the living room. “Just open it,” she said as she
sat on the couch next to Seth who was clicking through his latest batch of
pictures from California on his laptop.
“I can’t. I need you Em. C’mon, remember
how I went to that little sing-songy thing of yours, please, please, please.
Pretty, pretty please.”
Seth grinned at Emma sympathetically.
He’d been on the receiving end of these phone calls before too.
“Fine,” Emma said, realizing if she
repaid this so-called favor now she wouldn’t have it looming over her later.
“I’ll meet you at your place.”
“I like that one,” she mouthed to Seth
and pointed to the snapshot of him and Kelly on the beach. The California sun
set behind them and the ocean waves paused in a lazy curl. Their arms were
draped over each other’s shoulders and their faces reflected sheer happiness.
“Me too,” he whispered, smiling at the
screen and clicked to the next picture.
“Yay.” Stacy was squealing. “But meet me
at the office. I’ve got to show a client a condo a couple of blocks over. He’s
going to hate it, so I’ll be back pretty quick. Let’s say one hour my office
and then you can read my email for me.”
“Wait?” Emma snapped her attention away
from Seth’s computer. “You had your results emailed to you at work?”
“Yeah, so?”
“You know your company can track what you
do on their network, right?”
“Oh really Emma like anyone ever does
that. See you in an hour.”
“Yeah, sure,” Emma agreed and hung up.
“So what are we dealing with this time?
Pregnancy or STD?” Seth asked.
“Possible gonorrhea,” Emma answered.
“Oooh,” he winced and closed his laptop.
“C’mon, I’ll drive you. I’ve got to go downtown anyway.”
* * *
An hour later Emma and Seth, still
boasting about the amazing parking space he found right out front, walked into
the lobby of Stacy’s office building. Before the tall glass door closed behind them,
it was yanked open again and a woman charged in, with an iciness as cold as the
gust of air that followed. She brushed past them, her briefcase swinging
recklessly out of one hand and a venti-size Starbucks cup in the other. She was
dressed in a black velour sweat suit and her white tennis shoes squeaked as she
bolted to the elevators. She was shouting into the hands free receiver of her
cell phone, tucked inconspicuously into her right ear.
Emma and Seth, sobered by the entrance
of the other woman, quietly followed her to the elevators and waited.
“Yes Dennis, I know we are supposed to
be taking vacation time this week,” the woman shouted and stabbed the elevator
button repeatedly. “I had to cancel my holiday mani-pedi to come down here.”
She paused and Emma looked at the
woman’s fingernails pressing the elevator button again. When she let go and
stepped back Emma recognized her from the elevator last month. She’d gotten on
with Mr. Lewis and the other man.
“I’m on my way up to the office now to
fax over the documents I have. If you know what’s good for you you’ll get your
ass down here and help me. He needs your files too.”
Another pause.
“You don’t think I tried to explain
that. We’re up against a deadline and apparently one of us has screwed up. And
it’s my head the asshole bit off this morning. Look, I’m just trying to do what
Marcus asked.”
Marcus,
Emma’s
ears perked. This woman was talking about Mr. Lewis.
The elevator arrived.
“See you in twenty,” the woman barked
into the phone before disconnecting the call.
The doors opened and Emma and Seth
quietly stepped in behind the nettled woman, keeping their distance. The
woman’s hackles began to droop as she sipped from her cup and then Emma saw her
catch a glimpse of Seth and watched as her eyes traveled the length of him.
Seth, completely unaware, read an advertisement posted on the wall about the
upcoming performances at Keller Auditorium.
The woman checked her watch and the
aggravation that had been corroding her inside returned. Emma sympathized with
the woman. From her own experience, she could imagine exactly how the woman
felt.
She thought of Brayden. At least right now,
he was with his grandparents. Hopefully, able to escape his father’s tyranny
and bask in the glow of his grandparents’ love and affection.
At the twelfth floor, Emma and Seth
stepped off the elevator, leaving the toxic air of bitterness behind. They
walked through the doors of Portland City Real Estate, where a few people worked
quietly. Seth and Emma showed themselves into Stacy’s office and sat down in
the plum colored chairs to wait.
Seth’s cell phone rang almost
immediately and he pulled it out of his pocket.
“It’s Kelly,” he said as he stood and
walked out to the hall to answer it.
Emma crossed her legs and waited. She
could see Seth through the open door leaning casually against the wall.
I
should have brought a book or crossword
, Emma thought after a few minutes.
Looking down at her uneven, misshapen nails she considered getting herself a
holiday manicure, like the woman from the elevator, but then she remembered the
balance of her bank account, the Christmas gift charges she incurred this month,
and changed her mind.
Emma sighed and uncrossed her legs, only
to cross them again when a man, in dark blue jeans and a striped shirt with the
sleeves rolled up to his elbows, stopped in the doorway. His dark eyes studied
her and Emma recognized him from the singles mixer last month.
“Hi,” he said hesitantly. “Are you
waiting for Stacy?”
“Yeah, I’m her friend, Emma. We met last
month.” It was easy to see he didn’t remember her.
“Oh, that’s right,” he said, throwing
his head back like the realization had just hit him. “I’m James.”
Yeah, I remember
,
Emma wanted to reply,
you asked me if my kindergarteners took a nap, before
going to find someone more interesting to talk to,
but instead she just
smiled. Seth squeezed past James and took his seat next to Emma again.
“This is my roommate, Seth,” Emma said.
“And this is James. He works with Stacy.”
“Hey man,” James offered.
“Hey there,” Seth said and then turned
to Emma. “Shouldn’t she be here by now?”
“Patience, patience,” Emma placated,
patting Seth on the knee. “You know the presence of Stacy is a gift and we will
be graciously rewarded when she arrives.” They both snickered at the memory of
Stacy’s old college line. Stacy never did learn to run on a schedule and always
argued that her company was worth waiting for. Seth elbowed Emma playfully when
Stacy walked in, grazing past James, whose face immediately lit up at the sight
of her.
“Hi James, hi guys,” she said breezily
when she entered the room and dropped into her desk chair.
“Hi Stacy,” James said his eyes intent
on her. “What are you working on today?”
“Not much,” she replied. “I’m actually
done for the day.”
“Oh great me too. Do you all want to
grab some lunch or something?”
“Can’t,” Stacy said.
“Alright, well maybe another time then,”
James said and backed away from the door, looking wounded.
“Ooooh,” Stacy squealed, stopping James
in his tracks. “Yeah, how about we double sometime with your friend…” Stacy
tapped the desk trying to recall a name. “The guy with the glasses, had sort of
a sexy college prep look going on?”
“Peter?” James supplied.
“Yes, Peter. He seemed nice. Wouldn’t
that be fun Emma? The four of us could go out.”
Emma shot Seth a helpless glance.
“Sure,” Emma said brightly. “That’d be
fun.”
“Great,” James said brightening himself.
“I’ll get something set up and call you, ‘kay Stacy?”
“Okay,” she said and then James was gone,
intent on his new mission. “Get the door,” Stacy instructed Seth and he jumped
to close the door while Stacy booted up her computer. She drummed her red nails
on the desk while they all waited. “Okay, okay, here it is,” she said, clicking
the mouse twice and then pushed back in her chair, rolling away from the desk.
Emma stepped in between her and the
computer and clicked on the email. She zeroed in on the results column. Behind her,
Stacy sat with her legs crossed and one hand covered her eyes.
“What does it say?” Stacy pleaded.
“Negative. Negative. Negative...” Emma scanned
down the list. “Every single one of them is negative, Stace.”
“Really?” she said, rolling back to the
computer and crashing into the back of Emma’s knees. She clapped excitedly when
she too scanned all the results. With a sigh of relief, she deleted the email.
There was a knock at the door and they
all turned toward it. “Come in,” Stacy called and James entered.
“Hey,” he said, looking at all of them.
“Peter’s available tonight if you two are.”
Stacy looked at Emma and she felt her
stomach turn, she wasn’t in the mood for a date tonight and Seth must have read
the look on her face. He knew her so well.
“We’ve got that thing tonight,” he said,
looking at her.
“Right,” Emma agreed and nodded. “That
is tonight isn’t it? Yeah, um, tonight probably isn’t good.” She folded her
arms in front of her.
“Okay,” James said obviously
disappointed. “Is there a good day for you next week?”
Emma looked at Seth again. “Won’t you be
at your sister’s?” he threw in.
“Oh yeah. I will. I’ll be at my
sister’s.” Emma was going to be watching her nieces while Audrey finished the
last of her Christmas shopping, but it didn’t necessarily interfere with her
evenings. It was a lie, but she really didn’t want to go on this date. She met
Peter last month and the entire time she spent talking to him, he watched other
girls from the corner of his eye. He was not into her and she was not into him.
Stacy looked from Emma to Seth and
rolled her eyes. “We’ll figure something out,” she offered to James with a
smile before he walked away.
“You two are awful, you know that
right?” Stacy said, picking up her purse. “Now, let’s go celebrate. I’m
thinking chocolate.”
“You two go on ahead,” Seth said as he stood.
“I’ve got to get to the gym. Congrats on not having gonorrhea, Stace.” He
pumped a thumbs up in the air and Stacy returned his sarcastic gesture with one
of her own, only she used a different finger.
“Come on girl,” Stacy said, linking her
arm through Emma’s. “Let’s go to this place I know where you can sit and sip
chocolate from a cup. It’s sinful, but then you can tell me all about why you
don’t want to go out with James and Peter.”