Chapter Thirteen
Clara
I need to speak to Eric.
He’s freaking out, understandably, but I want to let him know I handled it. The girls aren’t going to say anything. I promised them a trip to the mall and ice cream after if they “don’t tell Mom and Dad about me and Eric testing out the mistletoe.”
I know he’s losing it because he’s avoided me the whole party, sticking to my mom’s side when she needs him to handle food stuff, and disappearing when she doesn’t. James has followed him around, offering whispered words to him every chance he gets, and I’m curious to what he’s saying.
If only I could get Eric alone.
Last time, you ended up making out with him and getting caught by your sisters…
The party is chaotic. Adults and children are everywhere. Mike is the life of the party, telling all his funniest tales we’ve heard a thousand times. Mom rushes around making sure all her guests are happy and enjoying themselves. Anytime Ruthie or Layla see me or Eric, they giggle out of control.
I’m ready to go home.
By the time it ends and only a few people, including James, linger, I realize Eric is completely toasted. He can barely stand on his two feet and guzzles his cocktail in seconds. I shoot James a worried look and he nods at me as if to let me know he’s got his eye on him.
“James has been watching you all night,” Mom singsongs into my ear. “Please go on a date with him, honey. You two would make such pretty babies. We adore him.”
I shrivel at her words. Not because I think so lowly of James. It’s just the truth of whom I love is bordering on humiliating. Shameful. Wrong.
Mom leaves my side to whisper something to James. He stiffens and forces a smile at her. Eric flinches, squeezing his eyes shut as if to tune out what’s being said.
Why can’t she leave things alone just this once?
The last of the guests leave. James is now practically holding Eric up, murmuring things to him. My stepbrother looks broken. It makes my chest ache.
“Oh, look, babe,” Mike says, tugging Mom to him. “Mistletoe.”
She laughs as he pulls her to his lips for a kiss. Of course, our sisters decide to show up, running past us barefoot but still in their party dresses with Barbies in hand.
“Ewwww,” Ruthie exclaims. “Mistletoe is gross. It makes everyone kiss.”
“I’m not kissing you,” Layla says with a huff, “just because you’re my sister.”
I shoot the girls a warning look. No mall. No ice cream.
Ruthie’s expression turns wicked. “They kissed. Yuck!”
Mom and Mike both laugh, obviously unaware of what Ruthie means. Eric makes a groaning sound as though he’s in pain.
“Isn’t it your bedtime?” I say to my sisters. “Go to bed.”
“Clara,” Mom says, frowning. “What’s wrong?”
“She thinks we’re going to tattle on her for kissing Eric,” Layla says, and then smacks her hand over her mouth.
Ruthie scowls. “You weren’t supposed to tell! Now Clara won’t take us to the mall!”
“Can we still get ice cream?” Layla asks, chin trembling. “Please.”
Mike clears his throat and points to the stairs. “Bed, now. It’s late. Go or I’ll tell Santa you two are naughty.”
“James, honey, maybe it’s time to go,” Mom says, voice tight. “We have a bunch of tired people around here.”
The girls scurry off. Eric shakes his head and staggers toward Mike.
“No,” he says, voice slurring slightly. “I need a witness for when Dad tries to murder me.”
Oh my God.
“What’s going on?” Mom demands.
Mike looks at Eric and then at me. As if a puzzle comes together in his mind, he stiffens. Then, his face reddens with anger. I’ve seen this look a time or two when Eric was a kid, right before Mike’s belt came off. But Eric’s a grown man. Mike won’t whip him for misbehaving. Will he?
“I love Clara,” Eric says, voice wobbling. “I’m sorry.”
“Eric,” I croak out. “Don’t.”
He shakes his head violently. “No. I have to tell them.”
“Tell us what?” Mom hisses. “James, you really ought to go home now.”
Eric grabs James by the arm, not letting him leave. “I’m too drunk to fight off Dad. He stays, Ma.”
I close my eyes and fight tears. This is happening. Our secret is about to be exposed. In front of the neighbor no less.
“Fucking say it,” Mike snaps, making me jump and my eyes pop open. “You fucked up your life in New York, so you thought you’d fuck up your life you have here too?”
“Mike,” Mom hisses. “Stop it. You’re angry and saying things you don’t mean.”
Eric’s eyes well with tears. It breaks my heart to see him so upset. I sniffle as a hot tear streaks down my cheek.
“I’ve been fucking my sister, er, stepsister,” Eric blurts out, slurring more than before. “I’m sorry.”
I clutch my hand to my chest. Pain there makes it feel as if my heart might burst. It hurts. It really hurts.
“No,” Mom whispers.
Mike storms over to Eric and snatches him by his ugly sweater. “What the hell did you just say?”
“Mike,” James says gently, “step back, man. He’s wasted. Not the best time to hash this out.”
I rush over to them and tug my stepfather away. “It’s not all on him. We did it together.”
He whirls around and glowers at me. “How long? Since you two were teens? My God we’ve been so fucking stupid.”
“Mike!” Mom barks out. “Enough. You’ve had too much to drink too. We’re not having this heavy conversation tonight.”
“I’ll get him out of here,” James says. “Come on, man.”
I sob quietly as James helps Eric put his coat on. Eric can’t even look at me. He’s too ashamed. I ache to go to him, but that’ll only make it all that much worse. After a few minutes, James ushers Eric out and they disappear into the night.
I’m left picking up the pieces of this all by myself.
“What the hell is wrong with you two?” Mike demands, pain etched in his face. “How could you?”
Mom’s chin wobbles and mascara streaks her face.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I should go.”
“No,” Mom cries out. “It’s not safe.”
“I’ll be fine. Frosty needs to eat and be let out.”
I grab my stuff and hightail it out of there. At least, at home, I’ll be free to cry all night in bed with my dog. I can’t stay here another minute.
My life is ruined. In one, careless moment, it was ruined.
Honorable mention.
We didn’t win the gingerbread contest, and I don’t even care.
In fact, I don’t care about anything right now.
It’s been two days, and Eric is missing.
Not totally. He was thoughtful enough to send me a text to let me know he’s been crashing at James’s place.
But, all contact thereafter, was ignored.
I’m all alone.
Again.
My phone buzzes and I snatch it up hoping to see something from Eric. Unfortunately, and unsurprisingly, it’s not him.
Casey: Come over. Brayden will make something yummy.
Me: Me and Frosty are watching movies. Too tired.
Casey: No, you’re depressed. You need your friends.
Me: Frosty is my friend. I swear I’m fine. I’ll talk to you later.
She sends me crying emojis. I feel awful about blowing her off, but I need space. From everything. I receive another text, this one from Mom.
Mom: Are we ever going to talk?
Me: What’s there to say? It’s over.
Is it?
In my gut, I feel like it is. Otherwise, Eric would’ve come home to me. He’s avoiding me, giving me my answer.
Mom: Oh, honey. Please talk to me. It breaks my heart when you’re hurting.
This has me bursting into tears. Frosty whimpers in my lap.
Me: Have you spoken to Eric?
Mom: Not yet. We’ve been trying.
So he’s avoiding everyone.
That should make me feel a little better, but it doesn’t. A part of me worries he’ll pack up and go back to New York. It would be easier to leave this mess behind him. Wouldn’t be the first time he left us.
Mom: You’re still coming over tomorrow night for Christmas Eve, right?
“No,” I hiss out, making Frosty startle. I stroke my hand over his fur. “Sorry, buddy.”
Me: I guess. I have presents for everyone.
Mom: Good. I love you.
Me: Love you too.
I know Mom will love me no matter what. Disappointment, though, will always be there.
In every interaction, every conversation.
She wanted me to date someone normal. Not my stepbrother.
Nice girls don’t kiss their stepbrothers.
I’m naughty. And for no reason. I didn’t even get the happily ever after in the end.
I’m left with nothing but a broken heart.
“You miss him too?” I ask my dog.
His tail thumps against my thigh. For some reason, this makes me sob. Not only did he abandon me, but he abandoned our sweet dog. Frosty whimpers and tries to lick my face. I end up giggling because he’s too cute for words.
An unknown number buzzes me next.
Unknown Number: He wants me to check on you.
Me: Who is this?
Unknown Number: James.
Me: If he’s so worried, he should do it himself.
I change the contact in my phone and he replies right after.
James: I’m outside.
I’m not happy that Eric told James where I lived, but James is harmless. Mostly, I’m angry that he’s too chicken shit to speak to me himself and is sending our friend to do his dirty work.
With a huff, I move Frosty aside and make my way to the front door. James, as promised, is standing outside, hands in his coat pocket.
“Come in,” I say, ushering him in. “Want something to drink?”
“Something hot if you have it.”
My home is dark, aside from the glow of the television. I flip on a light switch and flinch at the bright light. I’m so depressed, I didn’t even bother to turn on the Christmas lights. Everything feels wrong and sad.
James stops to talk to Frosty and then saunters into the kitchen where I’ve started the coffeemaker. I’d rather have hot chocolate—since it fixes everything—but without Eric, I don’t want it.
“He’s having a rough time,” James says, crossing his arms over his chest.
I shoot him a scathing glare. “He’s not the only one.”
“I can see that.”
After making his coffee, I push over the creamer and sugar so he can fix it the way he likes it. He ignores both and drinks it black. Gross. Who doesn’t love sugar?
Sugar makes me think of Eric. Frowning, I snatch a cookie out of a container and eat it. I’m sure I look disgusting since I haven’t showered or eaten anything proper. I couldn’t even go in to work. I’m a mess.
“Why does he get to be the one suffering here?” I demand, shoving another cookie in my mouth. “It’s not fair. We were supposed to do this thing together.”
James nods, wisely not saying a word, allowing me to continue uninterrupted.
“We love each other,” I tell him through my tears. “That should trump everything. Why isn’t that enough? Why am I not enough?”
James sighs and then steps over to me. I allow him to sweep me up in a comforting hug. For a brief moment, I consider what a life with someone reliable and normal would be like. James would fit that bill. We’re a match in Mom’s eyes. I could make it work.
And be unhappy for the rest of your life?
“You know Eric’s always been emotionally stunted,” James says with a chuckle. “Slow on the uptake. Give him some time. He’ll come back around. I give you full permission to make him grovel.”
A laugh sputters out of me. “He really is stupid when it comes to emotions. Only I’d fall in love with someone so difficult.”
“He’s a lucky man,” James tells me, patting my back. “And, believe me, he knows this. Once he comes to terms with it, he’ll make it right. Do you trust me?”
Trust reliable, neighborly James? Ugh. Yes.
But Eric?
I love him with my whole heart, but he’s a wild card. He’ll either stay and fight for love, or he’ll tuck his tail between his legs, running far, far away.
What’ll it be?
I’m terrified of the answer.