Chapter 14
Esther tore open the wrapper on the Coffee Crisp bar that had been in her gift from Fred and snapped a pic as she took the first bite. Then, she opened her message app and attached it with the message: mmmm… my fav… thank you, I love the gift.
She stared at the message for a full half-minute before pressing send.
Steve hadn’t called last night. He had sent a message about Madison being too excited to sleep and that he’d try to call today at some point.
It was nearly noon, and he still hadn’t called or messaged.
Not that she had actually expected him to call on Christmas morning, but…
her mind was a complete mess of conflicting thoughts since Fred’s conversation with her before the service last night.
Three dots danced on her screen, and she held her breath as she waited to see what Fred would say.
An image of an empty, but used, coffee cup – the one she had given him – popped up. The dots were dancing again.
I love it.
Some more dot dancing.
Best way to start the day and conclude a tradition. I’ll think of you whenever I use this mug. Thanks.
Tears gathered in her eyes.
So that’s it? We’re done?
She didn’t hesitate this time before sending, but she did hold her breath again as she waited for the reply.
That’s up to you and God.
She blew out a breath.
Another message popped up: But from where I’m sitting, yeah. This is how it has to be.
She rubbed a small circle over her heart as those dots danced again on her screen.
I respect you and Steve too much to do otherwise.
She wiped at the tears on her cheeks.
Still friends. Just from a distance. See ya on Sunday.
And that was it.
The dots stopped dancing.
The conversation was over.
The tradition of sharing a gift with Fred each year had ended. Her best friend had just walked out of her life. And she knew that her heart would never be the same. Part of it would be missing.
I’ve never loved anything as much as I’ve loved being your friend.
She typed the words but then deleted them.
Then, she typed them again. They sat there.
Daring her to send them. She shook her head and just stared at them.
Were they true? Was this cry of her heart just a response to someone leaving her?
Or was it the truth she had been trying to ignore each time she was with Steve?
He was a great guy – sweet, kind, understanding. He was a wonderful father. Madison always came first. She loved all that about him.
And Madison? Well, she was the sweetest little girl, and she loved her. She had since the first day that little girl entered her classroom last school year.
But did she love them more than she loved having Fred in her life – not from a distance, but next to her, trying to swipe her movie snacks and teasing her about crying during the sappy parts?
She left those taunting words sitting in that text box but closed it before opening Mandy’s number. This time, she pressed call and waited. One ring. Two. Three. Four.
“Merry Christmas!” Mandy sang into the phone.
“Remind me why Fred was a bad choice. Why did I turn him down?”
“Okay, so that’s not the proper response to Merry Christmas, but I’ll go with it,” Mandy replied. “Is your dad there yet?”
“No, he’s going to be late. There was an emergency call out.”
“Well, I guess we can’t have people freezing on Christmas Day, now, can we?” Mandy’s voice was sweet. Too sweet. She was stalling.
“Remind me why I turned down Fred in grade eleven.”
There was a deep exhale on the other end of the conversation. “Because he was going to be a mechanic. All he loved was music and cars.”
Yeah, that’s what she remembered. Mandy hadn’t approved of such things. It would have been a “bad look.”
“And,” Mandy added, “it could have ended your friendship.”
Tears were falling in earnest now, and Esther sniffled.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Mandy asked.
“It’s over.”
“What? Did Steve break up with you?”
“No. Fred did.”
There was a moment of silence before Mandy said, “You weren’t dating Fred.”
“No, but I used to be his friend. And not just from a distance.”
“You are making little sense.”
Esther reopened her conversation with Fred and sent a screenshot of it to Mandy. “Open that.” She stood and walked around her living room, stopping at the bookcase where a picture of her and her dad stood next to a ceramic Christmas angel.
“How did we become friends?” she whispered as a thought struck her.
“I’m sorry? What? I was reading this screenshot.”
“How did we become friends? My dad wears coverall and often smells like fuel oil.” Those were two of the reasons Mandy had given for Fred’s desire to be a mechanic to be beneath Esther – or more precisely any friend of Mandy’s.
“I’m still not seeing the connection to what we were talking about.”
“Fred’s like my dad. Why did that make him unacceptable for me, when you were fine with being friends with the daughter of a repair guy? For that matter why was Fred okay for me to have as a friend but not a boyfriend?”
“Um…” Mandy seemed lost for words, which for Mandy was not normal. “Do you think we could have this conversation in person? Because my answer isn’t going to come across well.”
“Just tell me, Mandy.”
“You know my mom.”
“Yeah. I do.”
“She’s, well, um, she’s always expected me to be a certain way. To her, everything has to look good.”
Esther nodded her head as she listened. Mandy’s mom was always perfectly presented – even in the morning after a slumber party, Mandy’s mom would have her full makeup on and her hair styled in some cute, relaxed fashion to match her expensive pj’s and slippers.
“So, she mentioned to me once that she wanted me to make sure that you weren’t left out at recess.
Apparently, she had noticed that you hung on the edges of the playground and had heard that your parents argued.
She thought I could help you, and it would make her look good to have such a loving daughter. ”
“I’m a charity case?”
“See, I told you that it wouldn’t come across well.
” Mandy hurried to continue. “So, I did what she said. I started to talk to you and play with you. I didn’t want to deal with my mom being disappointed in me because that would be a never-ending thing.
She’d still be reminding me of my shortcomings now if I hadn’t done what she wanted. ”
Esther huffed. None of what Mandy was saying was helping anything until she added…
“It was the best decision I ever made. I’ve never had a friend like you. I can see why Fred liked you. You’re the best friend everyone wants, and honestly… oh, you’re going to hate me.”
Esther attempted to brace herself for some even more damning revelation.
“I didn’t want you to date Fred because then, he’d be your best, best friend, and I’d be left behind.” The words were spoken so quickly that Esther wasn’t sure if she had heard them all or properly.
“You ruined my chance at the best thing that could have happened to me because you were what? Jealous?” The thought simply boggled her mind.
“Yes,” Mandy’s reply was soft and pained. “I’m sorry. I know those words don’t suffice, but I am. I am so, so sorry. I have been for years.”
Esther pulled the phone away from her ear and just looked at the screen.
“Esther? Esther, please. Say something.”
She put the phone back by her ear. “I don’t know what to say, Mandy. I think I need some time to process all of this.”
“Okay. I can understand that.”
“So, um, well, I guess I should go get things in the oven and all that, so I’ll be ready for Dad when he gets here.”
“Sounds good. Remember, we’re watching Christmas movies tomorrow night and scrolling for great Boxing Day sales online at Rosalie’s.”
“I know.”
“You’ll be there?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Even if I’m there?”
“Yeah, even then.”
“I love you, Esther.”
“Love you, too, Mandy – I think.” She flopped onto the couch as she pressed end. What a Christmas this was turning out to be!
What she wouldn’t give to be able to call Fred to tell him what she had just learned.
She tapped her phone on her hand. She could call Steve, but…
well… that seemed like a bad idea. He was busy with family stuff, and she wasn’t sure he wanted to hear how she only had her friends because they felt sorry for her.
Okay, maybe not all of them, but the one who seemed to be the catalyst to the group she now called her dearest friends.
And she was also sure that Steve didn’t want to know the reason why her good friend had talked her out of dating Fred. In fact, he didn’t know that she had ever almost dated Fred. He only knew that they had been life-long friends.
She pushed off the couch. The food was not going to cook itself.
Part of it – the small turkey she had bought – was in the oven, of course, but the sides still needed some prep work and then cooking.
A message popped up on her screen as she tied on an apron and pulled out the carrots and potatoes that needed peeling and chopping.
Hey, Sweetie. Got a third call.
Of course there had been a second call, which explained why her father still wasn’t on his way to her house. And there’d likely be a fourth at this rate.
Guy’s shift starts at 3, so I can be there after that for certain unless the final repair takes too long. I’m sorry, Sweetie.
This was how life was for her and her dad.
Plans were made and altered over and over.
It wasn’t his fault that there were people with furnace issues today or that he was scheduled to be on call.
Well, maybe that was partly his doing since he was filling in for someone else, but he was doing that because he cared about people.
Do what you have to do, Dad. I’ll have some extra breakfast that you missed while I wait and enjoy a movie before I make the Yorkshires. But once those are made… She added a wink emoji. He loved Yorkshire Pudding almost as much as she did.
I know. I know. They have to be eaten right away. I’ll be there.
Hey, Dad? If you want, you can shower here while the Yorkshires are baking.
A heart popped into the message app. Followed by Ways you know your daughter loves you number 4782: She’ll let the old man dirty up her pretty bathroom so he won’t miss out on just-from-the-oven Yorkshire Pudding.
She shook her head and sent a laughing emoji.
Love you, Dad.
Love you, too, kiddo.
Well, the carrots and potatoes had to be peeled and cut up eventually. She might as well do that now. And… she could start a movie while she did.
So that’s what she did. She prepped everything she possibly could while she watched some fictitious “teacher” who obviously didn’t earn a teacher’s salary – based on what she wore, the house she lived in, and the car she drove – get ready for the town Christmas bazaar because she obviously didn’t need to plan lessons or grade papers.
Of course, there was a grumpy, but handsome, single father, who was also the principal, causing all sorts of issues.
It was idyllic and utterly impossible. Normally, these movies were a lovely escape.
Today, this one was hitting a little different.
With the veggies hanging out in some cold water, the pie ready to put in the oven as soon as the turkey came out, and everything set to whip up those Yorkshires, she grab a plate of breakfast casserole, a cup of hot chocolate, and a cranberry muffin and snuggled into her favourite corner of the couch to ignore the too-perfect romance that was streaming on her TV in favour of picking at her food while trying to sort out her thoughts and feelings about what Mandy had shared earlier.