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Simmer by Stephanie Rose (16)

Sara

I CLIMBED THE slushy outside steps to Josh and Brianna’s apartment, trying to balance my suitcase and bags of gifts and groceries. Managing to press the outside buzzer with my knuckle, I waited for one of them to answer the door. My eyes clenched shut as I prayed for the first time since . . . well, since the last time I was here. Regaling all those awful stories to Drew about how I’d acted when they first came into our lives made the shame already twisting my gut coil tighter. I asked for patience and acceptance, especially when I’d learn all I’d missed and they’d enjoyed with Victoria. I hoped for a way for us to be friends, or at least friendly.

The lock clicked, and I straightened the best I could with what felt like fifty pounds of packages. All my irritation dissipated when my eyes met my daughter’s forest green ones. They lit up before she tackled me.

“Mommy! I’ve been waiting all day! I missed you so much!” She squealed into my shoulder as she still had my neck in a death grip. I laughed, hoping she wouldn’t see the tears welling in my eyes. My body almost collapsed onto hers as I tried to wrap my package filled arms around her, and I already dreaded having to leave her again.

“Sweets, let your mom come in,” Josh instructed from behind her before rushing over to me to take the bags out of my hands. “And she has. Vic hasn’t moved from the window for the past two hours.” He laughed before heading back inside.

“Dad blew up an air mattress, so you can sleep in my room! Just like the summer!”

I could only afford one air conditioner in our old apartment, so on hot days Victoria would sleep in my bed at night. She’d cuddle into my back and never complain.

Wheeling my suitcase into the apartment and shutting the door behind me, I craned my head around and took in all the Christmas in every corner and crevice. I suspected that was my daughter’s doing. She loved to decorate every single thing for the holidays. One year, she even drew snowmen on our bathroom mirror. It took hours to scrub it off, but I couldn’t find it in me to yell.

“Hi, Sara,” Brianna greeted me with a warm smile I did my best to return. “How was the drive?” I noted how she kept a comfortable distance away from me and Victoria, who hadn’t let go of me and was hanging on my hip. She was welcoming but trying not to interfere. If this were reversed, and Brianna visited Victoria at my home, I probably would have stroked her hair or did something to show my claim and connection to her. Unlike me, or at least how I used to be, she was free of any jealousy or pettiness. Josh hit the jackpot with his wife.

“Not bad. Long, but not too much traffic.” I looked between Josh and Brianna. He slipped his hand around her waist and drew her to his side. They were one of those sickeningly in love couples even just at a quick glance, but the gesture seemed more for comfort than closeness. Her gaze had no resentment, but I could sense sorrow. Before I had a moment to ponder anything, my daughter pulled at my down coat.

“Take off your coat! It’s almost Christmas Eve, and I have a surprise!”

I gasped, drawing out a giggle. God, I missed my daughter’s laugh. FaceTime wasn’t the same as hearing it in person. No matter what kind of shitty, depressing day I’d have, hearing her laugh would turn it all around and remind me the daily bullshit I endured to keep things going would be worth it—because she was.

“Well, tell me!” I unzipped my coat and hung it on the rack by the door.

“I’m an angel in the school pageant tomorrow night! Bri helped me with the wings.”

“But, you should probably take a look,” Brianna noted. “Victoria said that you used to fix her dance costumes every year, so you can make sure I didn’t completely screw anything up.” She huffed out a laugh.

“I’m sure it’s fine, but I’ll take a look.” I brushed Victoria’s hair away from her forehead. “I wanted to talk to you guys about something. I’d like to cook dinner for you. I stopped at the supermarket on the way here. Do you guys like lasagna?”

“Do you really think we’re going to refuse having a chef cook for us?” Josh’s chest rumbled with a laugh.

“Not quite a chef yet. But Victoria always liked my lasagna, and I learned a few other dishes I thought I’d try if that’s okay with you.” I lifted my eyes to Brianna’s.

“Very okay.” She nodded. “It’s just us for Christmas anyway.”

“Thank you. Both of you.” I dropped my head and studied Victoria. She’d grown and thinned out a bit since August, and my heart broke at the loss of her baby face. She was obviously well cared for and happy. My throat thickened as I lifted my gaze. My own family had no interest in me or Victoria, but Josh and Brianna cared enough about the both of us to allow me this chance—a chance to have a better life.

“All right, let’s see those wings and you can catch me up on everything.” Victoria nodded before yanking me down the hall. I was back with my girl, and I couldn’t remember ever feeling so happy or content. Probably because I never was.

The day before Christmas Eve, I took Victoria everywhere—a luxury I’d never had. Galivanting around New York City without worrying about what time my next shift had to start was a whole new world for us. I never even took her to a movie. Josh and Brianna were cool about letting us come and go as we pleased.

Victoria couldn’t keep her eyes open, nodding off after a long but great day, yet still insisting to help me bake.

“Baby, why don’t you go to bed? You can help me put the frosting on it tomorrow.”

I cracked up when her head crashed into her folded arms on the table.

“Who’s Drew?” she mumbled on a yawn.

My spatula stilled in my hand. “Drew?”

“You texted him our picture at Serendipity.” She turned and buried her head in her elbow.

“You noticed that, little spy?” I pursed my lips but fought a smile.

“Mm-hmm.” Her eyelids fluttered as they got heavier. “I saw his name on your phone screen before that, too. Is he your boyfriend?”

Jesus. How do I answer that when I don’t even know myself?

“He’s my friend. He’s actually the friend who bought us the gift certificates we used today. Maybe you could call him and thank him tomorrow.”

I lifted my gaze to my now sleeping daughter. Poor thing couldn’t take it anymore.

“She is a fighter until the end.” Josh shook his head as he sauntered into the kitchen. He gingerly lifted her out of the chair and cradled her limp body in his arms before he carried her down the hall. An odd warmth washed over me at the sight. He had no idea she existed until she was eight years old, but he loved her fiercely.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt. Just making some tea.” Brianna fluttered in and grabbed the tea kettle. “I guess you guys had a great day.”

“We did. I never got to have fun with her like that.” I sighed as I leaned back in my chair. “I owe you both a lot.”

She waved me off. “She’s a joy. We love having her here and are happy to help you out.” Brianna fiddled with the stove until the burner came on.

“I never told you congratulations.”

She offered a wistful smile. “Thank you. Not exactly sudden, but it was time.”

“Josh said the same thing, exactly.” I rolled my eyes but smiled. “You guys are like two peas in a pod.”

“We were always like that. For the most part, anyway. I don’t know if Josh told you, but we met in kindergarten.” She sat across from me and rested her elbows on the table. “What are you making?”

“Chocolate cupcakes stuffed with cream. You know, like the Hostess ones. Victoria said those were your favorite. I’m guessing as much since Josh calls you ‘cupcake’.”

Her jaw went slack as her eyes went saucer-wide. “You know how to bake Hostess cupcakes? This is the best Christmas ever.

I laughed at the wonder in her expression. “Seriously, thank you for taking such good care of Victoria. I bet you guys can’t wait to give her a brother or sister.”

The smile drained from Brianna’s face as the tea kettle whistled behind her. She took a sharp breath through her nostrils as if she was fighting off a sob.

“Your tea is ready, Cupcake.” I jumped at Josh’s voice behind me. I didn’t hear his approach or know how long he’d been standing there. Their eyes locked and had the same pained stare.

“I . . . um . . . don’t think I want it anymore. I’m kinda tired. Thanks for the cupcakes, Sara.” She shot up from her chair to shut the burner off before Josh pulled her into his chest, whispering something in her ear. She nodded before giving him a long peck and rushing out of the kitchen.

“Josh, did I say something wrong?” My brow furrowed as he fell into the seat Brianna had bolted from.

“Brianna can’t have children. We found out a few months ago. Most days she’s okay with it or does a good job of pretending to be. I think seeing Victoria get all excited about Christmas and the fun you guys are having—” He jerked his head toward me. “Not that she’s mad at that. She’s happy you’re here for Victoria and that you guys are having such an awesome time together. It’s just making her think and remember more than she’d like.”

“I’m so sorry, Josh. I didn’t know—” I stiffened, feeling the blood drain from my face and praying I was wrong about a sudden realization. “The day I came to get Victoria after they went to the mall . . .” I left out ‘and screamed bloody murder and told Brianna she’d never be Victoria’s mother.’ “Did she know?”

Josh didn’t look up as he gave me a slow nod.

“Oh, God.” I clutched my chest in horror. “Josh, I’m . . .” My flour covered hands raked through my hair as panic seeped into my veins. How could I be so cruel? Victoria was the light of my life, and it saddened me to know Brianna couldn’t have children of her own. “I didn’t know, I never would have—”

“Water under the bridge, Sara.” He reached over and squeezed my wrist. “She’s not mad at that and neither am I. Well, I’m not mad anymore.” He quirked an eyebrow and we shared a laugh.

“Have you . . . looked into other ways?”

He cocked his head back and forth. “Trying to. She doesn’t like to look into it because she’s afraid she’ll be disappointed.” He let out a long sigh. “Breaks my fucking heart. You don’t know how good she is. How much love she has to give.”

“I know,” I agreed. “I hated her for it at the beginning, but I’m so grateful now. She’s too good of a mother for the universe not to come through. Even deep in my cold heart, I believe that.”

He snickered. “You aren’t cold. Tough. I admire that, believe it or not.”

“Right,” I scoffed. “I wish there was something I could do.”

He rose from his seat. “Cupcakes are heading in the right direction. I’m going to head to bed. I don’t want her to be alone too long when she’s like this. I’m excited for our Christmas Eve dinner! I’ll make sure to save my appetite.” He rubbed his stomach with his inked hand. “Goodnight, Sara.”

“Goodnight, Josh.” I wiped my hand on a dish towel as my phone buzzed across the table.

Drew: How’s it going? Have you moved out of their kitchen at all?

Me: How do you know I’m in the kitchen?

Drew: . . . really?

Me: Okay, so I am. Smart ass.

Drew: You love my ass, I catch you staring on the track.

Me: Right. Thanks for today. Victoria had a ball.

Drew: I’m glad. She’s beautiful. You both are in that picture. Maybe I can meet up with you when I get there. I leave in the morning.

Me: Maybe. I’d like that. Let me get back to my cupcakes.

Drew: Ooh, does that mean something else? What’s on your cupcakes, baby?

Me: You have a long drive tomorrow. Get some sleep.

Drew: Fine. You’re no fun. I miss you.

Me: Goodnight, Drew.

Drew: Say you miss me.

Me: You miss me.

Drew: Now who’s a smart ass?

Me: My ass is great.

Drew: Sure is. Goodnight, Gorgeous.

I threw the phone across the table, my cheeks sore from smiling. When it buzzed again, I was about to call him and yell when the air stilled in my lungs.

Denise: Merry almost Christmas, sis.

I missed my sister, but I couldn’t bring myself to text her back. She was only a kid, and it was wrong to make her suffer for my mother’s actions, but I was too terrified to reach back out to her. The fear and guilt mingled in my system and turned my stomach.

It was a holiday full of surprises. Some I welcomed, some I was warming up to, and some that threatened to pull me into a past I couldn’t handle.