Chapter 32 #2
“Then the neighbor’s tree came down in that summer storm, and a huge bough broke off and landed on our shed.
What a nightmare that was. Did you know that if a single branch hangs over your fence, you’re responsible for it, even if the tree itself is planted on another person’s property?
” Her mother shook her head. “We had to replace the entire structure and the lawn mower and the snow blower.”
“There sure were a few years where we got dealt some crummy cards, honey bun. Your Aunt Gail was always the first in line, ready to cut a check.” Then he slipped his hand to the side of his mouth. “Though she made sure everyone knew about her generous goodwill.”
“Made me sick.” Her mother huffed. “But we had no choice, so we thought it best to appease her and some of the other less savory members of the family by hosting the holidays. We had the space, after all, and it was just easier to make her happy. You see, dear . . .” Her mother drew Marisa close and cupped her shoulders.
“Your aunt was, well, a bit of a bitch.”
What came out of Marisa’s mouth next could only be described as a guffaw.
“I get the shock,” her father said through a warm chuckle, “especially because you only ever visit on the holidays when she’s around.
I can understand why you stayed away, though.
” He found a spot of water on the counter that urgently needed drying off.
“Never liked the way she was so disapproving of your candy business. It wasn’t right.
Your mother and I should have spoken up, but we could never find the courage, given all the gifts we accepted from her over the years.
But we know now that all the flashy funds in the world don’t entitle anyone to speak about our daughter that way, family or not.
I’d give every cent back if I could, and I’m not going to fall in line anymore out of fear for family reactions.
Your mother and I are just so damn proud of you, honey bun.
You’re making a life for yourself on your terms in a way the two of us were never able to. ”
“And with that handsome Alec no less. Oh, by the way,” her mother said, slinking closer.
“Jules showed me a picture of the gingerbread fudge. You remember him, don’t you?
We like to play pickleball together now,” she said, smiling.
“But would, uh, you happen to have any extra? It looked mighty delicious.”
“Um, Ma? Ew.”
Her father wrinkled his nose. “Gingerbread’s not my style, but I ordered three boxes of your buttermints a few weeks ago, and I’m almost out. I hadn’t realized you closed down your online shop, though. What do you say to hooking your old man up?”
“Wait.” Marisa panted through the double hug of parental love she’d been unexpectedly sandwiched between. “Dad, you’re my buttermint buyer? The one who buys three boxes every two weeks like clockwork? That was you? But your name wasn’t on it, and the shipping address was different.”
Her father shrugged. “Had them sent to my golfing buddy Arnold’s house. I didn’t want to embarrass you by seeing your good old dad’s name show up on orders twice a month.”
“Holy shit. Embarrass me? You thought you would embarrass me?” Marisa couldn’t keep the snort-laugh in anymore.
She let it flow wild and free, not caring a whit about the wads of tissues her mother kept bunching into Marisa’s hand or how her dad kept doing the it’s okay, kiddo back pat that just made her laugh even harder.
“Those orders were literally the things that kept me going.”
All this time, she’d thought the worst of her family. Well, not the worst, but certainly not the best.
The failure, the stigma, the disappointed looks and hurtful comments.
How many of them had been from her parents?
She searched her mind for examples, but all she came away with were images of the silent worry scrawled on their faces while Aunt Gail spoke her thoughts freely, and the other cousins and such fell in line for fear of being cut off.
But Aunt Gail would no longer be a part of the family soon, and while Marisa wasn’t exactly happy to hear someone’s marriage was ending, she also wasn’t not happy.
“Just know that you’ll always have two very happy customers of Sweetest Heart’s Desire, and I imagine Alec as well.” The hope in her mother’s voice was the drop-tower plunge that shot Marisa back to reality.
Alec.
He was gone, and she had to disappoint her parents all over again, though this time for a different reason entirely.
“He, uh, had to go back to England.”
Her parents gave her a sad look and nodded their understanding. Then her dad added, “To finish his season?”
“Yeah, to finish his season.”
It was as good an answer as any, and who knew? It might have been true. That had been the plan originally, but then again, she couldn’t help but remember how capable he was of going rogue.
He didn’t need to run anything by her or include her in his plans. Never had.
Marisa felt the wave of emotion rising in her stomach, so she forced a smile and gestured toward the food on the counter. “Hey, uh, why don’t you guys take the hot dogs and stuff over to the neighbors’ place? I’ll join you after I use the bathroom.”
“Sounds good, honey bun.”
She hugged her parents, dearly this time, and meant every bit of the squeeze she gave, but she had held back a bit, too, so they wouldn’t see the sad little part of her that wished for a slightly different miracle than the one this Hanukkah had given her.
After splashing some cold water on her face, Marisa bundled up and stepped out into the crisp evening air, determined to enjoy the non-firework fireworks and a few brats, when a broad figure stepped out of the car in front of her parents’ house.
Marisa started at first, not sure whether she should run, scream, or heave the bag of ketchup and mustard at the person’s head.
But when the man moved up her driveway, farther into the spray pattern of the porch light, the shaggy blond hair and reserved gap-toothed smile that greeted her stole the tension from her limbs.
And replaced it with a different sort of terror.
“Cal? What are you doing here? Is everything all right?”
“Oh, aye, I suppose. Now, before you go thinking me a creep, know that Eden gave me this address and told me where you’d be. If you have any issues with that, take it up with her. I’m not interested in getting arrested tonight.”
“Um, okay?” Then she noticed the folded piece of paper in his hand.
Cal lifted the thing in the air between his index and middle fingers. “I’m just an errand boy. I’ve been told to deliver this. That’s all.”
Her heart was in her feet again, weighing her to the spot. And Cal seemed to get the sense that movement was beyond her, so he graciously walked toward her and handed it off.
She recognized Alec’s handwriting instantly.
“Have a read. Then have a drink. It’ll be a new year soon.
No one should be left with a cold belly.
And if you choose not to forgive him, I’ll respect that and still pummel him properly in recompense.
” He winked at her with a charming smile she was certain was a family trait. “Good night, Marisa. Happy New Year.”
Then he was gone, and she was left holding a note that felt far heavier than the flimsy paper ever could.
Slowly, with trembling hands, she opened the flap and read.
Marisa,
In case I don’t get to you in time, there are some things I need to tell you.
First, as I write this, I’m sitting here with a box of blueberry candy canes.
They taste like the worst parts of a Jolly Rancher and those hard sucking candies my Nan used to have in a dish at her front entrance.
Reminds me of cough medicine and that concentrated syrup that goes on shaved ice.
They’re truly vile fucking things . . . and I love them.
I love them because I know you love them.
I’m not smart enough to find the words to fix what I’ve done.
And, no, that’s not a cop out. I say this because I have a gnawing fear that I’ve broken your trust by trying to take care of things in the only way I knew how.
I fear I’ve done irreparable damage, and trying to say I’m sorry just sounds so paltry and pointless.
I left New Jersey, which I’m sure you’ve learned by now. I went back to England, but not for the reason you might think. You see, I’ve been thinking about stories and how the story I’d always written for myself no longer seemed to fit the way it had. And I realized why.
That version didn’t have you in it, and I needed to see what I could do to change that. I’ll not waste space here on details, as there are far too many and you deserve to hear them first and in person.
I know this is all vague and you have no reason to trust me or even agree to see me again, but all I can say is that, when you were with me, nothing about it was fake on my end. You are my everything, Marisa.
So, what kind of a man would I be if, by some bloody miracle, I get you back, but I haven’t done the work to earn you?
I’ll be traveling for a bit and don’t know how reachable I’ll be, but know that I’m working my way back to you, so you can rail at me in person and batter me with all the blame I deserve.
I’ll take it all, because I’m working on giving you all of me—my heart, my body, my soul, and whatever else I can do to round out the package.
Wherever your heart is at, I’ll accept it. But it’ll never stop me from loving you or finding my way back to the best choice I ever made.
The right choice. The only choice.
-Alec
Marisa swiped at her leaky eyes and yanked her phone out of her pocket. She barely had her glove off before she tried his number.
And tried again. And again.
After five times of being sent to voicemail, she finally gave up and let the tears flow.