Chapter 11
Jerk.
Four days later, the word still rang in Sean’s ears as if Monica had just said it. The passing days hadn’t made it sting any less.
Jerk.
Jerk.
Jerk.
Sean hunched his shoulders up around his ears as he walked out of his room on Thursday morning. He was a twenty-eight-year-old man. He’d been called far worse. Why was this insult so hard to get out of his head?
He entered the living room and found his mother on her hands and knees tucking brightly wrapped packages under the tree she’d decorated earlier in the week.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” She stood and surveyed her handiwork before turning to look at Sean with a wry smile. “Jace’s been doing a great job learning to leave the tree alone. We’re about to see how he does with shiny gifts.”
“You could leave the gifts in the closet until Christmas Eve.”
“Where’s the fun in that? Besides, a Christmas tree with nothing under it is pathetic.” She straightened a crooked ornament. “I have some more gifts to wrap later today. If you’ll put Jace’s presents on my bed, I’ll wrap them for you.”
Sean tucked his hands behind his back and looked down. The admission he was about to make wasn’t going to win him any points with his get-things-done-yesterday mom. “I appreciate the offer, but I haven’t done any shopping yet.”
His mother turned, her hands on her hips, and sent him a cold stare. “I have failed as a mother.”
Sean raised a hand to cover the grin that tugged at his lips. “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t think. Jace’s birthday is in ten days and Christmas is two weeks later.
You’re interviewing for jobs, you’re driving all over Kingdom Come delivering food, you’re training for a marathon, and I know you hope to be in your apartment by Christmas.
The days between now and then will melt away if you’re not careful, and my grandson won’t have the sort of Christmas he deserves. I didn’t raise a procrastinator.”
“I wouldn’t call it procrastination. Buying gifts before we left Ohio would have meant packing them in an already overpacked car. And as you just said, I’ve been sort of busy since we got here.”
“What are you busy with today?” She put air quotes around the word.
“I’m dropping Jace off for a couple of hours at his new daycare. Then I’m signing the lease for my apartment and making arrangements for all the stuff I left in storage to be delivered.” Somewhere between his mouth and his mom’s ears, his busy day got boiled down to one thing.
“Oh, you’ll be childless for part of the day. Sounds like a perfect time to shop.” Before Sean could protest, his mom moved around him into the kitchen. “I’m making pancakes. Why don’t you go get the baby and we’ll have some breakfast before you leave?”
Three hours later Sean, pushed an empty basket through the aisles of the toy store, looking for gifts and enthusiasm.
Of course, he wanted his son to have the best birthday and Christmas he could provide, but he’d never been much of a shopper, and feeling forced into it wasn’t helping.
The problem was, Jace was too young to want anything, and Sean had no idea where to start.
He had toys, but they were mostly things Brittany had bought when she was pregnant or gifts from family and friends.
Other than one small wooden airplane he’d bought at the craft show, his toy buying skills were nil.
Thoughts of the craft show brought thoughts of Monica. She had a connection with Jace. She could give him some ideas. He unearthed his cell phone.
Jerk.
The memory knocked him back a step. He put the phone back in his pocket. Yeah, he’d burned that bridge.
He stopped in front of an overwhelming selection of toddler gifts like an accountant confronted with an equation for space travel. The numbers were familiar, but the sequence was foreign.
“Mom, that’s the new toy we saw on TV last week. Watch what it does.”
Sean focused on a youngster a little further up the aisle. He didn’t know if Mom was watching, but the demonstration definitely had his attention. The child picked up a colorful plastic object and opened it like a book. Sean tried to look casual as he strolled a little closer.
“See?” The boy pressed a picture of a monkey, and the word monkey issued from the toy’s tiny speaker. He turned the page and touched a picture of an orange.
“Orange,” the book said.
“This would be perfect for Noah! It says over a hundred words, plays music, and it also says the words in Spanish.”
Sean sidled a little closer. “Excuse me. I don’t mean to interrupt your shopping, but that’s a really great toy. Would that make a good gift for a one-year-old?”
The kid handed the box to Sean and pointed to the lettering on the front. “It says one to two years.”
Sean took the box. Who knew that kids’ toys came with age recommendations? Suddenly, rocket science was making a little more sense. He looked at his little helper. “Thanks. You just simplified my life.”
He held the toy out. “Here you go.”
“Keep it. There are more on the shelf.”
“Thanks again.” It wasn’t long before a driving toy that made traffic noises and a bulldozer that Jace could push while it gobbled up colorful balls joined the book in the basket. He figured three gifts was a good start and would certainly please his mother. He turned a corner and came to a halt.
The toy that caught his attention was a low-slung police motorcycle on four wide tires. Sean stooped to push the button on the handlebars and jumped back when a loud siren blasted through the store.
“I gotta have this.” He looked around, embarrassed at his reaction. Jace...Jace had to have this for his birthday. He’d love it, and it would drive Sean’s mother absolutely insane. She’d have no one to blame but herself.
Sean loaded his purchases into the trunk. He was getting into the car when he noticed two scruffy boys headed toward the store, lagging behind their parents.
“Hurry up,” one said.
“You hurry,” the other said. “It’s your stupid birthday.”
One shoved the other, and the fight was on. The scuffle was short-lived as the man in the group, hopefully the father, stepped between the combatants and placed a hand on their shoulders. “Boys.”
The boys looked at each other behind their father’s back and exchanged a final insult.
“Neanderthal.”
“Jerk.”
The word sent Sean ducking into his car.
Would he never get that word out of his head? And why was it bothering him? He’d intended to put some space between himself and Monica. That was exactly what the episode in the nursery had done.
Sean closed his eyes and remembered her stricken expression at his outburst. Given the opportunity, he would have picked a way that didn’t hurt her feelings, but what was done was done, and the end result was best for both of them.
“Then why do I feel so lousy?” He sat there for a couple of minutes waiting for an answer to come out of the ether. When the car remained silent except for the growling of his stomach, he put the car in gear and headed toward home.
***
“THE TWENTIETH OF DECEMBER from one to four.” Monica made a note on her spreadsheet.
That gave her twelve fifteen-minute slots at seventy-five dollars a pop with the best photographer in Garfield.
A limited number, so people would be excited to get the opportunity but not so much work that it would overload Monica’s already packed schedule.
Better yet, the proceeds would more than finish her fundraising.
“Nine to twelve,” Ginny Marlin said, “not one to four. I have a wedding shoot that afternoon.”
“Oh, yes, of course, I’m sorry. Nine to twelve.” She gave a little squeal of excitement. “I’m so excited that we were able to make this work.”
“Christmas pictures are always a popular item. What made you think of it?”
“I went to Oakleigh’s with some friends the other night.
” The reminder had Monica thinking of the picture still lying face down on her bedside table.
She’d stolen a peek at it every day this week, reliving the heavenly kiss and the painful confrontation that followed it the next day.
Part of her still wanted to rip that picture up into tiny little pieces.
The other part wanted to put it under her pillow at night to keep that moment close.
It was the last moment with Sean that she was likely to have.
“Monica, did I lose you?”
Whoops. She tuned back into the conversation. “They had a photographer there that night, taking pictures. It got me thinking about you.” She forced a smile into her voice as she cleared the emotion from her throat. “The rest is history.”
“Perfect. Hey, I hate to run but I’ve gotta go. Mom and I are going Christmas shopping.”
“Tell Syd I said hi.”
“Will do. Let’s have lunch sometime soon.”
“All you gotta do is call.” The call ended and Monica put the phone down, turned back to her computer, and closed her fundraising spreadsheet.
Something unfinished tugged at the back of her mind. She knew from experience that if she chased the thought, it would run.
Besides, the conversation with Ginny had soured her day. She brushed at the unexpected tear that ran down her cheek. Was she crying for herself or Sean?
Both, she decided. Losing his friendship hurt, but despite the pain, she still felt sorry for him.
How sad it must be to feel so wrapped up in grief that every word and action was sifted through that filter.
She shouldn’t have called him a jerk. She could see how Sean had misinterpreted Jace’s “Ma.” Who knows?
Maybe on some subconscious level she loved that baby so much that she wanted to be his mama.
She rested her head in her hands, glad that clients rarely came to her office.
Sean’s conclusion-jumping was a blessing really, maybe even an answer to her prayer for direction.
With their friendship a thing of the past, she could concentrate on getting the job in Arizona and the event that could solidify her future.
“Monica, what’s wrong?”
Monica looked up as Bobbie hurried into the room and closed the door behind her. She stooped down next to Monica, pulling a tissue free from the box on the shelf behind the desk. She pressed it into Monica’s hand.
Monica drew in a shaky breath and mopped her face, then the desk where her tears had fallen. “I’m fine.”
“‘Fine’ doesn’t cry at their desk in the middle of the day. What gives?”
“Just stuff. No big deal.”
Bobbie stared till Monica squirmed in her seat. There was so much she hadn’t told her best friend. Not about the kiss on Saturday, not about the fight on Sunday. Not even about the job opportunity in Arizona.
She definitely hadn’t told her about the way her heart was breaking.
Maybe a conversation would sort it all out, but the office wasn’t the place for that.
She reached out, comforted when Bobbie took her hand.
“You’re right. I do need to talk. Can we have lunch on Saturday?
I’ve got some things that I need...” She snatched a second tissue and blew her nose.
“I’ve got some things that I need to tell you. ”
***
SEAN CARRIED A SLEEPING Jace into the house on Thursday afternoon.
His son had fallen asleep on the short ride between daycare and the house.
The playtime had been good for Jace, but he was worn out.
Tired as he was, Jace wouldn’t sleep long since he hadn’t eaten.
It was well past lunchtime for both of them, and Sean figured he had just enough quiet time to get his purchases in the house before the baby woke up demanding to be fed.
He laid Jace in the crib, waiting only long enough to see if he would stir.
Once Sean was sure he was sleeping soundly, he pulled the door closed and returned to the car.
He was excited about the gifts he’d chosen.
It wasn’t like Jace was old enough to see the toys and know they were for him, but Sean had to admit, now that the shopping was done, he was looking forward to seeing the look on his son’s face when he opened them.
Sean put everything on Mom’s bed and went to the kitchen to satisfy his own rumbling stomach. Mom had left a note on the table saying that there had been an emergency with one of their church members, but she didn’t expect to be gone long.
He felt the urge to pray for the unnamed church member but shoved it away.
Settling for a whispered, “I hope it’s not serious,” he opened the refrigerator and perused the contents.
He saw the remains of a rotisserie chicken, and his mouth watered.
A chicken sandwich heavy on the mayo and salt and pepper sounded like the perfect lunch.
He was chewing the second bite when Jace’s cries carried from down the hall.
He put the sandwich on a paper towel and went to get his son.
“Hey, big guy. You ready for some bites?” He carried Jace into the kitchen, strapped him into the high chair, and did a repeat search of the refrigerator, smiling when he came across a container of leftover macaroni and cheese.
Before he could get the dish heated, Jace was in a full-blown meltdown. Hangry was a real thing with this kid. Sean stirred the macaroni and turned to look at his son. “I’m coming, I’m coming. Give me a second.”
The baby used a fist to rub at his sleepy eyes. The tears kept coming.
Sean had known Jace wouldn’t sleep long.
He should have heated the macaroni before he made his own lunch.
Every day it seemed like there was another part of parenting that he couldn’t get right.
Did mothers ever feel this total sense of incompetence?
It was moments like this when he longed for Brittany’s presence.
At this point he’d even settle for Monica’s.
The timer on the microwave beeped and Sean tested the macaroni and decided it was safe. He held a spoonful out to his irritated son. The baby shoved his hand away and turned his head. “Ma.”
Sean sat back in his chair. It wasn’t just the word jerk that echoed in his head now. It was everything else Monica had said.
“He was saying Monica not Mama.”
And who was Jace asking for now? The mama he wouldn’t remember, or a friend he missed.
It didn’t matter. They were both gone from his life for good. Sean had made sure of that.