Chapter 27 The （not so） Happy Holidays #2
Okay. Just grab him. Sounds easy enough. Tyler turned into the aisle again and walked straight into a punch. It got him full in the left eye. It didn’t do much damage, but it blurred his vision long enough for Fat Santa to lunge his short body at him.
Tyler crashed to the floor, squirming beneath the heavy weight. “Oh, my God!” he gasped. “You weigh like five hundred pounds! I thought it was a fat suit.”
Fat Santa got up and used his weight to his advantage again, tossing himself onto Tyler’s midriff in what could only be described as an ungraceful belly-flop.
That one knocked the wind out of him. Now his eye was ticking and twitching, he felt paralyzed between his neck and waist, and he made peace with the fact that he was about to die a slow, painful death due to asphyxiation.
What an embarrassing way to die.
His soul wouldn’t be able to handle that kind of shame in the afterlife. Just when he thought all hope was lost, Matt came out of nowhere and pushed him off. Tyler quickly scrambled to his feet.
“Grab him, Ty! Grab him!”
Tyler looped his arms through Fat Santa’s and kept them firmly locked behind his back. “Now what?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never beat up a guy before.”
“Maybe just rough him up a bit.”
“You guys are fucking assholes!” Fat Santa spat out.
“Language,” Tyler reprimanded, tightening his hold.
“Okay, Fat Santa,” Matthew said. “You’re gonna get what’s coming to you. A classic, world-famous pimp hand.”
“World-famous?” he taunted. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s like a bitch slap, but it starts from all the way down here.” Matt dropped the right side of his body until his hand was hanging past his knee.
“Oh, a bitch slap? That makes sense ’cause you’re a bitch!”
“I don’t think the name-calling is really necessary,” Tyler added.
“You’re holding me down, this guy is about to slap me and you’re preaching to me about name-calling? You’re both bitches!”
“I said it’s like a bitch slap,” Matthew clarified. “This is a pimp hand. Pimps are dudes…Okay, now hold still.”
“Fuck you!”
Matt looked up at Tyler and shook his head. “He’s so rude.”
Tyler closed his left eye so he watch the whole thing unfold.
Matt got into position again and practiced throwing his hand a few times in slow motion, making sure the geometry was just right to connect with Fat Santa’s face.
“Alright. Stop flinching! Take this like a man.” He took a deep breath, then wildly flung his hand.
Fat Santa, however, panicked at the last second and turned his head.
“Aaaaaaaaah!”
The pain caused his knees to buckle and it was like five hundred pounds of dead weight pulling on Tyler’s arms. He just let him fall to the floor and another scream burst out of him when his head hit the hard tiles.
“Fuck!” he yelled, squirming in pain. “You hit me in the ear! Who the fuck hits someone in the ear?!” He clasped one hand over his ear. “It feels like it’s bleeding, motherfucker! Aaaaaah! I can’t hear a thing.”
Tyler felt a bit bad, but Matt showed no remorse or sympathy. “Well, that will teach you to mess with us.”
“We’re such bad-asses,” Tyler conceded, giving Matt a high-five.
They were about to walk away when Fat Santa’s big, black boot came up and kicked Matthew in the groin. He let out a choked groan, his eyes rolled back and he fell to the floor.
* * * * *
Tyler kept a piece of steak covered in cling-wrap firmly against his throbbing eye as he took a slow sip of brandy from the bottle. They were sitting on the rooftop of his father’s apartment building, gazing over the Seattle skyline. It was beautiful, peaceful, a nice end to a rather active night.
He took another sip and coughed a bit to clear his throat.
This stuff was vile, so repulsive it took a few tries to swallow it.
They’d already finished the first bottle and he’d foolishly thought the second one would go down easier.
He was wrong. “That was a new experience,” he said, handing the bottle to his right.
Matt reached over and took it, trying not to disturb the packet of frozen peas resting on his crotch. He gulped down a few sips. “Definitely not something that happens every day,” he said, handing the bottle to his right.
Fat Santa reached over and took it, sneering at the both of them as he held an ice-pack against his ear. “You guys are fucking assholes!”
“Screw you, Fat Santa!” Matt bit out. “You started it.”
“I told you four times already. My name is Gary. Why do you keep calling me Fat Santa?”
The alcohol was already taking effect because Matt’s words were beginning to slur. “Because you’re fat…and you’re dressed like Santa.”
“That makes perfect sense to me,” Tyler added. “Also for some unknown reason, you still have the beard on, which forces us to keep drawing the comparison.”
They continued with senseless babble, passing the bottle up and down the line. Matt asked Gary about his job and if he’d ever eaten one of his customers. Tyler remained a little withdrawn, idly staring into the night, thinking about Jordan and the heart-stopping words that had left her lips.
As if reading his mind, Matt looked over at him. “So what happened with Jordan?”
He’d known that question was coming. He took another sip of brandy and released a deep breath before answering. “She…she told me she’s…in love with me.”
“That’s great,” Fat Santa said even though he didn’t have a clue what they were talking about. “She loves you.”
“She said that…and I froze. I couldn’t say one thing back.
” His throat tightened as he remembered the look on her face, expectation plummeting to disappointment.
“I was begging her to talk to me for weeks…and when she finally did, I messed it up. She stood there offering me…everything I want and I couldn’t give her the one thing she wanted back. ”
“Why didn’t you tell her, Ty?”
“You know why.”
Matt nodded. “I do. But I want you to say it. I want you to hear yourself say it.”
Tyler realized that his friend had an alter ego and his name was Dr. Phil. “We don’t have the best track record with women,” he said softly. “My mom.”
“My mom.”
“Trisha.”
“Gemma.”
Tyler took a few moments and tried to collect himself.
His emotions were scampering all over the place.
“I can’t do it, Matt. I can’t…lay myself out like that.
She makes me weak…so weak I feel like I can’t keep my head above water…
so weak I just don’t function without her.
You have no idea what these last few weeks did to me.
You have no idea…how hard it is to be without her.
” He shrugged. “I’m fine with her having that power over me.
I’ve already surrendered myself to Jordan Shepard.
I can live every second of every day feeling that weakness, but…
I can’t let her know she has that power… I can’t do it.”
“Tyler,” Matt said with an understanding smile, “I don’t think you realize what you do.
You commit, but you don’t really commit.
You’re faithful. You’re loyal, but you don’t commit.
Trisha only moved in with you last year and that’s because she asked you.
You two talked about getting a bigger place and you never looked for one.
You were with her for three years and not once did you talk about marriage.
You never told her you loved her.” He paused and allowed Tyler to acknowledge all that information.
It was true. “Now maybe deep down you knew Trisha wasn’t the one for you and that’s why you held back.
She could see it, Ty. You went through three years expecting the worst to happen and then it did.
Self-fulfilling prophecy. Don’t make the same mistakes with Jordan, especially because this time I can see you’re not holding back. ”
“It’s not like she gave me a choice. She took me by surprise and I’ve been free-falling ever since. I couldn’t stop it even if I tried.”
“So tell her!” Fat Santa shouted in frustration.
“He’s right,” Matt concurred. “And telling someone how you feel isn’t a sign of weakness. It’s a sign of trust. You give someone that information and you trust them not to hurt you with it.”
Tyler allowed that to sink in, every word, every comment. It wasn’t as easy as they made it sound. “And if she leaves, Matt? What then?”
He smiled, a knowing smile warmed with nineteen years of friendship. “Then you got me, Ty…like I got you. And I’m not going anywhere.”
“You got me too,” Gary slurred from the other side.
Matt rolled his eyes. “Don’t make commitments when you’re drunk, Fat Santa! You’ll be gone in a few hours. Tyler and I are feeling very fragile right now and we can’t deal with your lies.”
Tyler laughed and Matt did too. The first rays of light could be seen on the horizon and the new day brought new hope.
He knew what he needed to do. He just had no idea how to do it.
Getting Jordan back wasn’t going to be easy.
She’d made herself vulnerable to him, laid herself out, gave him that information and trusted him not to hurt her. And he did.
It wasn’t his intention. He hadn’t meant it as a rejection.
He’d been hoping she’d know how he felt without him having to say it.
After all, he’d made pretty damn obvious.
But that was Jordan. Constantly pushing him to the limit, making him do things outside the realms of himself.
He’d told her that strength or weakness would determine which way they tilt and now he needed strength to fully give into his weakness.
He was willing to do it. For Jordan, he was willing to do anything.
They sat back and watched the sun come up, the bright light causing his left eye to sting a bit, but he didn’t look away.
Sometimes life hands out a moment that must be appreciated in its simplicity and cherished for all time.
For Tyler, one of those moments was watching the sunrise on Christmas morning in the comforting presence of his best friend.