55. Isaac
Chapter 55
Isaac
“ I wanted that port, you asshole!” Chloe yells across the table at Liam, who places his orange game piece over the dock at the corner of the board. Laughter fills the room, and my chest tightens. It’s a good thing I ordered the Catan expansion pack when I did, because a night of Jo and I became a night of Jo, Carmen, Liam, Chloe—and Charlie—all packed into my one-bedroom apartment, crowded around the tiny dining-room table.
“It’s called a harbor, smarty-pants.” Liam sneers as Carmen snatches the dice off the center of the game board and rolls her turn.
“No one calls it a harbor, you pretentious turd.” Carmen adds fuel to the fire, and Jo just laughs.
After I dropped Jo off at her apartment, I thought long and hard about how I could get her to open up. To let her guard down a little more, so I can try my best to weasel my way into her heart permanently. Instead of just sitting around and staring at the door, I spent the entire afternoon dragging my Christmas decorations from the basement storage room and hanging string lights around every corner of the space.
It’s quite cozy in here, if I do say so myself.
Liam grabs the instruction manual, maniacally flipping pages until he finds a description of gameplay.
“Ha!” He points at the page, waving it around the table. “ Harbors allow you to trade resources,” he reads. I reach for my beer and take a swig.
“Whatever!” Chloe swats the packet out of Liam’s hand and it falls to the ground, where Charlie sniffs it curiously. She’s been under the table all evening, just waiting for one of us to drop crumbs.
“No one calls them harbors,” Jo and I say in unison, and the whole room stills.
“Well isn’t that just sweet as hell. Ten minutes together, and they already have the same thoughts.” Carmen starts the table conversation again by completely annihilating Jo and I.
“Ooookay,” Jo says, passing resource cards to Carmen, who has somehow accumulated more than the rest of us combined. “Who needs a drink?” Her chair squeaks across the tiled kitchen floor as she stands.
“Wipe the drool off your chin.” Liam’s eyebrows are hidden under his shaggy hair when I finally tear my eyes from Jo standing in my kitchen, peering into my refrigerator.
“I’ll take another beer,” Carmen adds as Liam rolls the dice for his game turn. “And maybe a refill on chips over here.” Jo returns to the table with three beers, setting one in front of her spot, one in front of Carmen, and extending one to me.
“There’s no topper on your tree, Isaac.” Chloe grabs the beer out of Jo’s hand and gestures at my half-decorated Christmas tree. Though I had plenty of time to finish the decorating, I’d hoped maybe Jo and I could start a brand-new tradition of our own.
Stupid, sentimental man.
“He wants Jo to do it.” Carmen has single-handedly deciphered every part of my brain without even trying. Jo’s cheeks flush, her eyes landing on me, and I shrug.
“Felt like something I shouldn’t do alone this year.”
“Wow, you guys are finally getting your heads out of your asses?” Chloe takes a swig of her—my—beer.
“The fact that it took this long is actually pathetic,” Liam adds.
“We know they’re both pathetic.” Carmen straightens her piles of cards.
It’s only been an hour since our friends have been here, but they have most certainly overstayed their welcome.
“You don’t need to kick us out, we’re literally leaving,” Liam downs the last of his water and collects his jacket from the back of his chair. My social battery has slowly depleted, and I can see the same in Jo. I really just need to get her alone again.
She’s been on all night.
I need to know how she’s actually feeling.
Goodbyes take far too long, but eventually the only noise left in the apartment is Charlie licking the floor where Chloe accidentally dropped the popsicle she convinced me she needed after her seventh beer. Liam was tasked with driving the two drunk women home, and I know that Jo won’t be able to relax until we get word that everyone is safe.
“Was Carmen onto something earlier?” She speaks up after taking a sip of water from my glass.
“Somehow Carmen knows exactly what I’m thinking at any given minute, and it’s painfully accurate. And terrifying,” I reply.
Jo plops down onto the couch, and Charlie follows her. They both look so at home in my space. Or maybe it’s my wishful thinking.
She hums, scratching behind Charlie’s floppy ears.
“How do you feel about that?” I prompt her to share her feelings towards the entire situation. Realistically, if I don’t ask, she won’t tell me.
And I’m not afraid to ask anymore.
Charlie jumps from the couch and paces in a circle around the living room. Like mother, like daughter.
Jo glances at the clock and then back at me. “We have just enough time for a holiday movie before I crash.”
A smile overtakes my face as I dive for the remote control.
“You figure that out, and I’ll figure this out.” She stands and gestures to Charlie before reaching for where the leash and her coat hang on the arm of the couch. I have exactly three minutes to make this a Christmas wonderland. The door clicks closed, and the sound of Charlie’s nails against the concrete stairs fades into the distance.
I flip through downloaded movies on the television screen. She’s talked about the tradition so many times that I honestly half-convinced myself that I’ve been a part of it. We always watch White Christmas when we decorate the tree. By the time the door handle turns and Charlie comes trotting into the living room, I’ve dimmed the lights and started boiling milk for hot cocoa. I’m determined to make up for any holiday spirit that Bing Crosby can’t provide. Jo hangs the leash over the back of her dining chair and approaches me where I stand next to the stove. She places her hand on my forearm and leans over the pot, inhaling the scent.
“I’m sorry, are you melting actual chocolate chunks?” She looks up at me, wide-eyed and rosy from the cold winter air.
I shrug. “No packets left.” She strips off her jacket and throws it over where the leash hangs on the dining chair. “Mugs are to your left.” I nod to the cabinet above my coffee pot, hoping she’ll take the hint and grab two.
“There’d better be whipped cream,” she smiles, pulling open the cabinet and grabbing the two MMCI alumni mugs on the bottom shelf. “None of that marshmallow nonsense.” I nod, a cheesy grin plastered to my face, and shoo her out of the kitchen space so I can prepare our dessert. She sits down at the far edge of the couch, pulling off her shoes and tucking her legs underneath her, while I top the steaming chocolate drinks with a heavy serving of aerosol whipped cream.
I double check that the electric stove stop is turned off, and tread carefully into the living room, my fingers wrapped tightly around the handles of our mugs. Setting them down on the table in front of us, I take a seat on the opposite end of the couch. Charlie stands from her resting spot and jumps up onto the couch, crawling into my lap.
I never thought I’d have the wrong girl in my lap tonight. Jo shoots me a confused glance when I laugh out loud at my own stupid brain.
“You don’t even wanna know,” I add before she even has a chance to ask. “What do you say we get this movie rolling?” She nods and leans forward to press the play button on the remote, but then stands suddenly, walking around to the front of the coffee table and blocking my view of the TV from the couch.
She turns to face me, her back to the TV, and smiles. “Okay! Where are the rest of the decorations?”
She glances around the living room until she locates the large plastic bin tucked behind the armchair.
“I haven’t tested the lights or anything,” I warn, standing and taking a few strides to meet her at the open bin. She stares inside before stooping to scoop a mangled string of lights from the pile. She grabs another, and walks them both to the open outlet on the kitchen island.
She presses one plug into the outlet, and the space is illuminated with warm white light.
She scoffs and pulls the plug from the wall.
All the while, the film plays, and Bing serenades us and the troops.
I watch intently as she plugs the second string of lights into the outlet, and her face lights up, both physically and metaphorically, when the room becomes a rainbow of primary colors.
“That’s more like it!” She exclaims. “White’s too bland.” She unplugs and tosses the string of lights over her shoulder, making her way back over towards the sad, empty Christmas tree in the corner of the living room. “We all need a little color in our lives!”
I can’t help but feel like Jo is exactly the color I need in my life, and I’m willing to do just about anything to rid myself of the boring, predictable black and white.
“Well, c’mon!” She holds out the end of the string lights to me, and I reach out to take them, following as she meticulously wraps each individual branch of the tree.
My mind wanders aimlessly as she works, guided by the sound of the movie and Charlie’s quiet snoring. I see Jo, Christmas morning, and piles of perfectly wrapped presents under the tree. I hear the pitter-patter of little feet running down the hallway of our house, and the squeals of excitement when they see how Santa has spoiled them.
I see?—
“Hey, earth to Isaac…” Jo’s hand waves in front of my face, and I realize I’m no longer holding any lights. “We need another string,” she adds, matter-of-factly. I hesitate, but the television screen catches my eye for just long enough to solidify my next move.
“Dance with me.” I reach my hand out to her.
“Ha! Don’t be weird,” she laughs nervously, and glances at the TV where Danny Kaye and Vera-Ellen sway elegantly to the music.
“Dance with me, Jo,” I repeat.
And she does.