Paper Wishes Page 3

  “My mother’s necklace. How…”

  He took the chain from the box and placed it around my neck. “Jack told me how you threw this out after Peters told you it couldn’t be fixed. Apparently Jack scooped it out of the trash and brought it in for a second opinion.”

  I ran my fingers over the cold silver, the light metal replacing part of me I’d thought long lost. “Jack got it fixed?”

  “Yeah. I asked him what to get you for Christmas. He said this would make your night.”

  I gulped back tears as my eyes drew back to Jack. Monica leaned in to his shoulder, hands wrapped around his arm. His gaze left her, and our eyes met. My cheeks flushed as I touched the chain at my neck.

  Jack nodded, and his mouth formed the words Merry Christmas, Slugger.

  His smile reached into my soul, warming me — until Monica grabbed his chin and forced his concentration back on her. Her cackle riddled the room.

  “You do like it, don’t you?” Steve asked.

  I forced my attention back to my Secret Santa. “Yes. It’s great.” I glanced back to Jack. He was going to give it back to me. Why did he change his mind?

  My thoughts raced back to the day before. Jack’s words seared through me: I wish you would consider that maybe she wasn’t my first choice.

  My heart twisted, my hands trembled, shaking the jewelry box. It was me. I was his first choice.

  “You’re not mad because Jack gave me the necklace, right? He told me to take credit, but I don’t want to start our relationship with a lie.” Steve’s smile dazzled more than any piece of jewelry.

  “Our relationship?”

  “Yeah.” He slid his fingers into my hand. “I like you, Jill. I always have.”

  Monica slipped her purse over her shoulder and eased Jack toward the exit.

  No!

  She nuzzled Jack’s neck as they walked.

  “Jill?”

  “Steve, I’m sorry.” I dropped the white jewelry box to the floor as I darted toward the door.

  “But…”

  Steve’s sentence trailed off as the tapping of my heels on the marble floor echoed above the music. I slowed, placing myself between the exit and the happy couple.

  Jack’s brow inched up.

  A deep breath filled my lungs. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Not a good time, Slugger. Call me tomorrow.”

  “Jack, I need to talk to you now.”

  Monica’s nose flared. I folded my arms in defiance of her self-righteous claim on my best friend.

  “Tell you what,” she said. “I’ll run to the restroom while you boys chat.” I pretended not to notice the intentional slip while she nibbled Jack’s ear. “I’ll meet you in the lobby in five.”

  Jack’s cheeks reddened. “Yeah, okay.”

  His neck tensed as Monica slithered out the door, her body barely concealed in her sally-spray-on dress. A smiled touched the edge of Jack's lip, and I gritted my teeth. There was no way I was letting this happen. I grabbed his arm and shoved him into the coatroom.

  Jack pushed my hand away. “For Pete’s sake, what is wrong with you? What are you doing? I handed you Steve on a silver platter!”

  “Jack, you can’t go with Monica.”

  “What are you, crazy? Of course I’m going with Monica!”

  “She wants to have sex with you.”

  A smile broke over his lips. “Yeah, I know. We’ve already taken a condom inventory. Safe sex covered, Mom. So — can I go now?”

  “No! Jack, she doesn’t even care about you.”

  He took my shoulders into his gentle, loving hands. “But she does. You won’t believe it, but she’s been thinking about me for years too.”

  I grabbed the hair at my temples. “No she hasn’t! It’s a line! She rehearsed it in the bathroom. They flipped a quarter between you and Steve, and it landed on you. You’re just the guy on the wrong side of the coin.”

  “Now you’re going too far.” His lower lip trembled. A sadness pleaded from his eyes, contradicting his words.

  “Jack, please listen. I know about the necklace.”

  His gaze darted down to my chain. “Yeah. So?”

  “Why did you keep it? Why did you get it fixed for me?”

  He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does, Jack.”

  He hesitated. Confusion clouded his eyes. “I have to go. Monica’s waiting.” He pushed past me.

  “Jack, I…”

  He turned. My voice caught in my throat.

  “You what, Jill?”

  My mind whirled. The first day I met Bill. The day he proposed on the beach. Nicole being born. The pain of Bill packing his bags. Nicole crying as he drove away. Years of happiness and misery channeled through me, leaving me limp and unresponsive.

  “That’s what I thought. Merry Christmas, Jill.”

  The sound of the door closing echoed through my skull, pounding and drilling before leaving me alone with only the voice of Bing Crosby singing “White Christmas” to keep me company. I threw my back against the wall and slipped to the floor, sobbing.

  Chapter Three

  Christmas Eve Night

  “Mom? Mommy?” Nicky’s voice cut through the dark. A crack of light shone into my bedroom from the hall. “Are you crying?”

  I wiped my eyes with the edge of my blanket. I couldn’t put the thought of Jack lying with Monica out of my mind. “I’m sorry I woke you, baby. Go back to sleep.”

  Her silhouette didn’t move.

  “It’s Christmas Eve. Get to bed or Santa won’t come.”

  “Mom, come on. I’m twelve.”

  She moved out of the light, and the bed shifted beside me. I held my breath, gritting my teeth against a sob on the verge of breaking free. “I just had a bad dream. I’m fine.” I lied.

  “This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be,” she whispered.

  “What?” My voice wavered. The sob trickled out, tears dripping to an already wet pillow.

  “Nothing.” She lay down, wrapping her arms around me. “Merry Christmas, Mommy.”

  I ran my hands through her beautiful hair. My angel. My darling. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

  ****

  A thud against the front door jarred me from a damp pillow. Nicky jumped from my bed and padded down the stairs before my fumbling hands could throw off the covers and find a light switch.

  “Ummm, Mom?”

  The squeal of the front door opening hastened my feet as I skidded to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. Nicky stood at the doorway, staring at a man curled up on our front porch. She leaned down and pulled the scarf from his face. “It’s Uncle Jack!”

  “Jack?” A wave of relief eased the tension from my body. I slipped from the door and into the frozen night. A light dusting of snow fell from the sky, whitening Jack’s coat. I rubbed his cold cheek. “Jack!” I leaned close to his face. The smell of various liquors slapped my nose as he moaned in his sleep. I gritted my teeth. “Blast it, Jack.” I pulled up on his shoulders. “Nicky, help me.”

  We heaved and grunted, inching Jack’s limp body into the living room. A final heave flopped him onto the floor, knocking one of his arms into the Christmas tree and shaking the decorations. A foiled ball fell from the branches and bounced on Jack’s chest. The makeshift ornament rolled, resting in the crook of his arm.

  Nicky’s eyes widened. Her jaw dropped as she glanced in my direction.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing.” Nicky grabbed the foil ball from Jack’s arm and hung it carefully back on the tree.

  I threw a lap blanket over Jack, tucking it around his shoulders.

  A beautiful smile graced Nicky’s face as she sprang up the steps, nearly knocking me over.

  “G’night, Mom!”

  “Goodnight, baby.” I shuffled to my room and flipped off the lights. Tomorrow would have to be a better day.

  Chapter Four

  Christmas Day

  “Merry Chr
istmas!” Nicole shouted.

  My eyes popped open, barraged by early morning sunlight reflecting off the newly fallen snow outside the window. Christmas? I stretched my arms. Christmas! I sat straight up, my heart racing. Oh no, the presents!

  I jumped from my bed and stumbled. Nicky stood before me, laughing, with two filled stockings in her hands.

  I stared at the red velvet overflowing with neatly wrapped gifts. “What? Who…”

  “Santa came.” She placed my stocking in my hands and sat on the edge of the bed. “Come on, Mom. Open your presents!” She tore at a package.

  I sat beside her, agape, watching her dump her stocking across my quilt. I laughed, shook my head, and slipped my finger under the tape of my own package.

  Jack.

  ****

  I fastened the last button on my blouse as Nicole cleaned up the wrapping paper. The scintillating smell of hazelnut coffee enlivened me.

  “It smells like Uncle Jack found the coffeemaker,” Nicole said. She bounded from my room and returned in jeans and a T-shirt before I had even finished brushing my hair.

  “Are you ready to go down?”

  I breathed deeply, olfactory heaven charging my brain. “I’m sure ready for some coffee.”

  Nicky hit the bottom of the stairs before me and scampered to the kitchen. “Merry Christmas, Uncle Jack!”

  She released Jack from her hug and bolted past me to the tree. My eyes widened as I took in the packages strewn below the branches.

  Jack hugged me from behind. “Santa came,” he said.

  “Thank you, God!” I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “Jack, thank you so much!”

  “For what?” He reached for the coffeemaker, winked a bloodshot eye, and handed me a mug.

  “You really bailed me out. I owe you one.”

  He smoothed back his disheveled locks. A deep, unshaven shadow graced his cheeks, giving the prim and proper businessman a rugged appeal despite his yellow pallor. “Well, you can start paying me back by telling me how in the blazes I got here.” He rubbed his temples.

  “You don’t know?” I sipped liquid warmth and rolled it across my tongue.

  He shrugged. “Last thing I remember, I was in a bar… then I woke up under your Christmas tree.”

  I nearly spit my coffee. “You passed out on my porch. Nicky and I dragged you into the house.”

  He grimaced. “I don’t even remember driving here.”

  “What happened, Jack?”

  His expression melted to sadness. “You were right about Monica. We got to her place, and I told her how I felt. I told her we were moving too fast. She laughed and told me to take my pants off.” He took a deep breath and shivered. “When I said no, she went ballistic — I mean crazy and yelling and stuff. She kicked me out.” Jack walked into the family room and eased down onto the couch. He sighed into his coffee as his brow creased. His eyes squinted with the unmistakable agony of the morning-after headache. Nicky held his attention as she ripped open a gift.

  I sat slowly beside him, being careful not to jostle the couch and make him sick.

  “I should have listened to you,” he said.

  “It’s not your fault.”

  A pffft escaped his lips. “Yes, it is. I’ve been a complete idiot.”

  Nicky ripped away a stream of red and green paper. “Yes! A Mancala board!”

  He hunched his shoulders. “So, what happened with Steve?”

  “Steve?” My eyes widened. I reached for my mother’s necklace, grasping the knot between my fingers. “Oh my goodness, Steve! I left him there. I didn’t even say goodbye.” I held my forehead. “He’s never going to speak to me again.”

  The left side of Jack’s lips inched up. “Well that sucks. Bad night for both of us I guess, huh?”

  “You look happy about it.”

  The right side of his lips completed the smile. He shrugged.

  Nicole whooted. “Calligraphy set! Oh, yeah!”

  I put my arm around him and took another sip of hazelnut delight. “Well, I’m glad it happened because this coffee is amazing.”

  Jack snorted. “Well — our love lives are in shambles, but it’s all okay because Jack knows how to follow directions on the back of a bag of coffee.”

  “There’s directions on the back of the bag?”

  He huffed a laugh.

  I feigned an angry sneer before my smile broke free. The stress, anxiety, and heartbreak of an entire evening burst into a laugh and another. Jack’s giggle fueled my own, and I placed my coffee on the table to keep it from spilling.

  Jack’s laughter tapered off, and I followed his gaze across the room to Nicky. The smile drained from my face, seeing tears in her eyes. “Nicole, what’s wrong?”

  “No! Don’t stop! It happened! It actually happened!”

  She sprang forward. Her arms enveloped me.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “My wish.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Here, look.” She skipped to the tree and removed her origami star. She unfolded the paper and sat on the floor. Her tears dripped onto words scribbled in red pen. She folded the note once, and touched the ink to her forehead. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  Jack’s fingers entwined in mine. Concern furrowed his brow.

  Nicky inched up onto her knees. “Can I read it to you guys?”

  I nodded.

  She took a deep breath. “Dear Santa. All I want for Christmas is to hear my mom laugh again.”

  The words stung. My muscles tensed, and a feeling of dread closed in on my heart. When was the last time I laughed? A warm grip tightened around my fingers.

  Jack smiled. “It is nice to hear you laugh again, Slugger.”

  I leaned in to his shoulder. The smell of beer still hung in his clothes, but his touch warmed me. I held out my arm to Nicky and pulled her into our hug.

  “I’m sorry, guys. I didn’t even realize…” I bit my lip. The pressure that had been building, pushing, and smashing me from within fizzled and melted. Three long years of denial washed away, leaving me lighter, rejuvenated. “You know what? I’m going to be okay.” I ruffled Nicole’s hair. “We’re both going to be okay.”

  Nicky’s exuberant giggle enlivened the room. “Your turn, Uncle Jack!”

  She ran to the tree, climbed a chair, and plucked off the star Jack hung two nights before.

  He held up his hands. “Oh, Nicky-Bomb, we don’t need to read mine.”

  “Aw, come on! It’s tradition!”

  She handed him the ornament. He stared at the folded paper with pursed lips. “Sweetie, I didn’t get what I asked for.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He rubbed a small purple bruise on his cheek. “Pretty sure, kiddo.”

  “I think you should read it again,” Nicky said.

  Jack rolled his eyes and uncurled the flaps of paper. His lips formed a thin line.

  “Did you get what you asked for, Uncle Jack?”

  He glanced up at her, and then back to the paper. His eyes widened.

  I placed my hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong, Jack?”

  He took a deep breath. A tear pooled at the edge of his eye. “I thought I wanted to spend Christmas with Monica, but that’s not what I wrote.”

  He dropped the creased paper to the floor and walked toward the window. Nicky picked up the note. Her jaw dropped.

  “What?” I whispered.

  She offered it to me. My hand quaked as I read the sloppy lettering. I want to spend Christmas with the woman I love. I touched my fingers to my lips, my eyes reading the words over and over.

  Jack placed his palms against the window. His forehead thudded against the glass. Nicky kicked me and pointed toward him.

  Dumbfounded, I returned the note to where it had fallen. I stepped behind Jack, slipping my hands around his waist. For several moments, I joined him staring into the blank canvas of freshly fallen snow.

  “I’ve managed to screw up every relationship
I’ve been in,” he whispered.

  I snuggled my cheek against his back. “I know. Best friend, remember?”

  “Why in Sam Hill do you put up with me? I can be such an idiot.”

  I bit back a smile, letting the silence linger.

  He laughed and turned around. “That was your cue to say, ‘No Jack, you’re not an idiot at all’.”

  “Well, since we’re all being honest…”

  Jack sucked in his cheek. “Okay, I deserved that. I was a total nincompoop. I admit it.” He glided his arms around my shoulders and pulled me toward his chest. “Thanks for trying to stop me, even though I was too dumb to listen.” He shook his head. “I’m so glad I didn’t go through with it.”

  “Through with what?” Nicky asked.

  “Nothing!” We spouted in unison.

  We laughed, and I stole a moment cuddled inside his warm arms.

  “Now your letter, Mom,” Nicky said, clapping.

  I took Jack’s hand in mine and led him back to the couch. “Sorry sweetie, I didn’t do it this year.”

  She furled her brow. “Yes you did.” She plucked the makeshift silver globe off the tree. “You tried to make a ball out of it. It must have rolled off the table and into the trash.” She handed it to me, left eyebrow raised accusingly. “I found it after school. It didn’t look all that good, so I wrapped some foil around it and hung it on the tree for you.”

  I turned the ball in my hand. Creases in the foil caught the lights from the Christmas tree. “Honey, this isn’t my wish.”

  She folded her arms. “It is now. You wrote it, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “Open it,” she said.

  Oh my goodness, she read it. My heart inched up into my throat. I gulped it down.

  “Here, let me help you,” Jack said, reaching for the ornament.

  “No!” I drew it to my chest. “I’ve got it.”

  I pulled apart the foil to reveal the handwritten note inside. I licked my lips. My eyes darted everywhere but in the direction of the words I had written.