Chapter 23 #2
My cheeks fill with air as I blow out a long exhale. The transition from discussing Olivia to visiting him in Colorado is not an easy one. But it’s time to talk about the realities of December grief.
“Christmas can get a little tough. I love the idea of spending the holidays with your family, but I can’t risk a full-blown meltdown as their first impression of me.”
He reaches out, pulls me to him, and wraps his arms around my waist. “I will respect whatever you want to do, but let me explain a few things first?”
Am I supposed to be able to concentrate with his hold around me like this? Still, I nod.
“The ranch has four separate houses spread out across the acreage. You’ll stay in an entire house to yourself, fully stocked with Meredith-esque items of comfort, but also with total privacy.”
I pull at a lock of hair and wrap it around my finger.
“I’ve thought about this, Meredith. I know it won’t be all reindeer and mistletoe.
If you want to share the hard part with me, I’ll be there.
” He shrugs. “If you want to lock the door, I’ll wait for you to come out.
In the in-between times, you can see my life.
” He rests his cheek on mine and says close to my ear, “And if you need to go home in the middle of your stay, there’s freedom to make that choice. ”
For the past four years, my family has set up a way for me to hibernate during the holidays.
They’d stock me up with food and leave me alone while they protected me from the outside world.
I sat frozen in the shelter of my cave, waiting for some of the roughest days of the year to pass.
In the beginning, I needed those tough days to pass over me.
But staring at Harlan, I understand that if I say no, this holiday will pass by me.
The subtle difference is powerful.
He doesn’t shield me from the pain. But he continues to assure me he’s available to see me through some of it.
I don’t blame my family for the way they’ve loved me. However, I’m growing through something I can’t define.
Sometimes I wonder if it’s time to let go of them a bit and see what happens. Maybe that’s why I went to Colorado in the first place.
I study each line on Harlan’s face, and I hope visiting his home will reveal their stories. I take a breath. “Will the house be stocked with Oreos? The ones covered in white chocolate only come at Christmastime.”
A blinding smile spreads across his face. “I think I can handle that.”
“No, ask Penelope to handle the cookies. These only come around once a year, and if you buy the wrong kind, it could get ugly.”
His eyes narrow with mock earnestness. “Yeah, that does sound more like a Penelope thing.” He cups a hand to my cheek. “So, does this mean you’ll come?”
“Yeah.” I grin. “I’ll come celebrate Christmas with you, Harlan Holcombe.”
He draws me in to kiss me on the forehead. Leaving his lips there, he says, “Thank you.”
The thought of Christmas with Harlan settles into the squishy sensation in my belly, but voices sound from the living room and interrupt the moment.
“What now?” I ask.
As I twist in Harlan’s arms, Claire charges onto the porch, her eyes full of panic. “Meredith, I was at Panera grabbing your order for you, and look who I found who wanted to come check on you because he thought you might be sick.” Her words sputter in such quick succession, they don’t register.
Which is unfortunate because the next person to join us outside is Stanley. Only instead of panic, his eyes are loaded with confusion. Then anguish.
“Oh. My. Gosh.” Claire’s awe-filled tone whispers through the tension. “Hercules totally puked in your house the other day.”
“Meredith?” Stanley’s glare flashes from Harlan, to me, to Harlan’s arms around me, and back to me. His face clouds in thunder.
Molly ambles out to the patio, arms crossed over her chest, completing the trifecta of disaster. She stands behind the others and narrows her angry eyes.
Where is Harlan’s camping gear? I need to send up a flare.
I turn to try to pull away from Harlan, but he clamps his grip to my waist and plasters me to his side. Heat infuses my cheeks.
“Stanley”—I throw out a limp arm in his direction—“this is Harlan, my . . . uh . . . Harlan. And Harlan”—I dart my eyes to him, not making eye contact—“this is Stanley, my . . . friend.”
Harlan’s body is stilted when he pulls me forward with him and offers a hand to Stanley.
Stanley stares at the greeting a touch too long. Finally, he moves forward to shake Harlan’s hand once, then retreats to his position. “How do you know Meredith?”
I glance at Claire, and it looks like her eyes are going to bug out of her head.
“Harlan, that’s my friend Claire.” I point to her. “Claire, this is Harlan.”
Claire cracks a giant smile. “So nice to meet you.”
Harlan nods. “Same to you.” Then he nods to my sister. “Good to see you again, Molly.”
Waves of distaste roll off her haughty stance. She shifts her gaze to me. “Christmas without your family, Meredith? Really?”
Now my face flushes for a different reason.
Enough is enough. This little scenario is full of fish to fry, and Molly is swimming to the top of my list. I lean toward her. “Were you eavesdropping?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your answer,” Stanley says to Harlan. “How did you meet Meredith?”
“Met her in Colorado Springs,” Harlan says with a clipped tone, the first hint of his waning patience.
“And now she’s going back for Christmas.” Molly holds her hand out like she’s in a courtroom offering exhibits.
“Why would you do that?” Stanley scratches his chin. “Christmas is a really tough time for you.”
“Because we’re dating.” With Harlan’s firm tone, it’s clear he’s done with niceties.
But Stanley doesn’t deserve that tone. He’s just been blindsided, evidenced by how destroyed he looks. Then again, I’m about done with Stanley inserting himself into my life.
One more glimpse at Claire and I see her gawking between each of us, enthralled with this nightmare of mine. All she needs is a bucket of popcorn and a comfy chair and she’d be set. At least she’s not causing problems.
“Okay, I wasn’t going to butt in, but clearly I need to say something.” Molly steps toward me. “Harlan, you have no idea what you’re getting into. It’s fine if you want to spend time with Meredith, but just don’t do it over Christmas.”
Claire slides her eyes to my sister. “Molly, that is not cool.”
Molly shoots a death glare at my friend. “With all due respect, Claire, you aren’t around her as much as I am.”
“With all due respect, Molly, you have no idea what my relationship with Meredith is like.”
“You’re hardly around,” Stanley says to Claire.
I want to scream, but I’m not sure which of them I should start with. “Stop talking about my life like I’m not here.”
Stanley leans toward me. “How long have you been dating?”
“Since her trip to Colorado,” Harlan answers for me.
Stanley frowns at Harlan, then focuses on me. “When we talked, you said there wasn’t anyone else.”
Harlan turns to me, blocking Stanley from my sight. “You said there wasn’t anyone else? When exactly did you talk to him?”
“See,” Molly interjects, “you haven’t been together long enough for you to dive into the Christmas holidays.”
Peeking around Harlan, I throw a pleading look to Claire.
Her eyes fill with alarm and she shakes her head.
“Meredith.” Harlan’s grunt pulls me back to my conversation with him.
“Harlan.” I lower my voice. “I wasn’t sure about us for a while.”
He looks to the sky, then back to me. “I told you to trust me.”
“Meredith,” Stanley calls to me. “Doesn’t sound like you’re sure now.”
Harlan cranes his neck to look back at Stanley. “Back off.”
“Back off?” Stanley asks, his voice raised.
“Stanley,” I growl so loud that everyone freezes. Pushing Harlan out of the way so I can see each person, I swallow and say with finality, “You are way out of line.”
“He doesn’t even know you.”
“You don’t even know me!” I yell, surprising no one more than myself.
“I get that I treated you terribly after Steve died, but I will not tiptoe around you any longer. You’ve overstepped your bounds, offered your unsolicited opinion, and made massively incorrect assumptions about what I’ve needed.
And I know—” I squeeze my eyes shut, shake my head, then look at Stanley and say with a softer but firm voice, “I know you do these things in the name of your friendship with Steve, but that suffocates me in manipulation.”
Stanley gapes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Harlan, his face granite, gives a chin lift to the door. “I think it means it’s time for you to leave.”
Stanley looks from me to Harlan. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“If you’ve been paying attention, man, this has nothing to do with you either, and everything to do with Meredith.”
Stanley shoves his hands in his jacket pockets and points his eyes to the ground. “I guess I know when I’m not needed.”
I feel Harlan’s hand on the small of my back, but his face is unreadable.
Claire nods as if she’s having a conversation with herself. “Meredith, I left the soup inside for you. But I have to get going.” She asks Stanley, “Will you please walk me to my car?”
Without looking at me, he turns and walks back into the house.
Following Stanley, Claire looks over her shoulder at me and mouths, I love you.
Once they leave, Harlan turns to me. “Why haven’t you mentioned Stanley before?”
Is he . . . is he upset with me?
“See?” Molly says. “You’re not ready to spend Christmas with him. He didn’t even know about Stanley.”
“Molly!” At this point, I don’t care if my neighbors hear. I want to completely unleash on my sister.
She stands straighter and returns my stare.
Taking in a deep breath, I close my eyes. “I need you to leave.”
“What did you say?” Her shocked whisper hits me in the gut.
When I open my eyes, I catch a fraction of pain in her face, then it disappears. “I’m asking you to leave,” I say in a tone that she cannot mistake.
With slow movements, she looks at Harlan, then back at me. “I’m just trying to—”
“I know.” I shake my head. “Don’t I know it. You’re just trying to help. But, Molly, I’m just not sure I can take any more of your help. You parade around my life like you’re the grand master, but maybe I don’t want to be in the parade anymore!”
Her face turns crimson and her lip quivers. She pats her hair down, dazed, as if she doesn’t know exactly where she is right now. “Right,” she says to herself. “Right. Somehow, while you went through hell, I kept you alive, and now you’re ungrateful. That makes sense.”
“Watch it,” Harlan says in a low voice.
Molly’s face screws up in an unattractive scowl. “You can’t just insert yourself into Meredith’s life and know what’s best for her.”
“And I’m going to say the same thing to you.” Harlan’s eyes flare, and his voice sounds sinister even though the words are beautiful to me. “If you’ve been paying attention, this has nothing to do with you and everything to do with Meredith.”
“Who do you think you are?” she whispers.
“I’m the man asking you to honor your sister’s wish and leave her house.”
Molly looks at me as if she’s going to say something, then at Harlan as if she knows she shouldn’t. She storms out her exit while Harlan and I stand frozen. She crosses the threshold of the house, and a few seconds later the front door slams.
“Sweetheart,” he says as he steps toward me.
I shoot my hand out. “Just give me a second.” My snapped words stop him short, and I collapse into the deck chair.
Leaning my elbows into my knees, face in my hands, I try to use deep breaths to avoid the impending tears.
My MO lately has been huge buckets of grief tears.
But Harlan won’t recognize these tears. They are stronger-than-dirt, unfiltered anger tears.
He plops in the chair next to me. “Are you okay?”
I raise my head and turn it his direction. “Am I okay?” He can’t miss my infuriated tone. “What was that all about? I don’t mind talking to you about Stanley, but could you do the courtesy of waiting until he leaves to have that discussion?”
Harlan clamps his mouth shut.
“He was Steve’s best man. He’s been trying to push into my life for a while now, and it never felt right to me.
And when he told me he had feelings for me a few weeks ago, I made that more than clear to him.
” I rest my elbows on my knees and let my hands hang down, feeling my blood pressure returning to normal.
“I didn’t tell you, Harlan, because I’m so busy trying to figure out how to walk you through my dead husband and kids that Stanley wasn’t even on my radar.
Also, he’s not on my radar because, honey, he’s just not on my radar. ” I shift my focus to the yard.
He scores a hand through his hair. “Okay,” he says on a big sigh.
I take a minute to think through everything that just played out in front of Harlan. Lovely.
“Well, that was some good yearslong drama you just got a front-row seat to.” Still staring at the yard, I whisper, “Wanna bail on me?”
“Not on your life.” His answer is immediate, sure. “Still wanna go to Colorado for Christmas with me?”
“Yup.”
In unison, we lean back into our chairs. He holds his hand out for me, and I take it. He squeezes.
“I changed my mind,” I say, my eyes directed to the trees but unfocused. “I think we should go camping. But only under one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“For entertainment, we throw Molly and Olivia in a tent together.”