CHAPTER TWELVE

HOLLY

 

Anna spent every weekend with her father. That was no different on this particular weekend, but what had set it apart was that she was being dropped off on Monday, as opposed to being picked up the day before. Mark and his wife had taken Anna and their one-and-a-half-year-old son Jacob to Sesame Place for a Halloween show. A very nice little trip that I had found myself feeling jealous of, despite the destination being full of singing, dancing puppet people.

I took pleasure in the morning alone after Liz had left for work. I had been determined not to think about anything but me while I ate my yogurt parfait in peace, watching a Frasier rerun. Once I had eaten, I allowed myself to indulge a bit with a nice, hot bubble bath accompanied by the romance novel of the week. When the doorbell rang, I was already dried and dressed, savoring the last few precious seconds of quiet as I walked to the door.

Mark, Liz’s ex-husband, stood on the other side with Anna in his arms, sporting a frown that told me my morning was going to be extra appreciated by the end of the day. It was an odd thing, seeing him for the first time in years. Liz had always been around to deal with him, so I never had to—boy, did he ever feel like a stranger.

 “Hey Holly,” he said with a civil smile. “It’s nice to see you.”

“Yeah, you too,” I said, returning the gesture.

And really freakin’ bizarre.

It was funny to me that during Liz’s relationship to him, I had never thought about him at all as being a decent looking guy, but now that they were divorced for three, going on four, years, I couldn’t help but notice that he wasn’t half bad. I took note of the short sandy blonde hair that blew gently in the breeze, the definition of muscles underneath his t-shirt, and the smile that was a little too white.

Or, you know, I could have just been desperate. Either way.

We stood in the doorway for a few painstaking moments; the discomfort became more and more evident between us. Was I supposed to invite him in? Did I actually have to socialize with this guy I never really socialized with, even during the years that he and my sister had been together? Was that in my job description?

Come to think of it, I wasn’t entirely sure what my job description even was.

“Uh, do you want to come in?” I finally asked, still feeling unsure of the proper protocol when handling my sister’s ex-husband-turned-friend.

Seeming grateful for the offer, Mark smiled politely. “Oh, yeah, thanks. I won’t stay long.”

Well, thank the baby Jesus for that.

I stepped aside, allowing him to enter, and I closed the door. 

“How was Sesame Place?” I asked, sitting on the couch.

Mark put Anna down next to me and helped unzip her coat as he said, “Oh, it was great. The kids had a blast. Heather and I, on the other hand, are exhausted from chasing them around and I nearly had a coronary when I saw how much an F-ing bottle of water cost—eight bucks! Most expensive weekend I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah, I bet. I have it made with the places I take her. Like Story Time? Free.”

With a stiff laugh, he excused himself to grab Anna’s stuff from the car. I turned to her, and she remained silent. “Hey kiddo,” I said, helping her to take off her shoes. “Did you see Elmo?” Anna kicked her feet out of my grasp and crossed her arms just as Mark came back in. “Wow, she’s a little cranky today, huh?”

He sighed, putting her bags and Giraffe down on an armchair. “Yeah, she was sad to leave. But I told her that it’s okay, and that it’ll still be there in the summer. Right, Peanut?” Anna responded by sticking out her bottom lip, and it wiggled fiercely. “Come on, sweetheart. Daddy is leaving soon and he doesn’t want you to cry.”

Anna apparently didn’t care what Daddy wanted. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks as she jumped off the couch wearing only one shoe and ran to her room. I waited for the door to slam behind her, as she sometimes did in the throes of a tantrum, but it never came. I stood to go tend to her when Mark stopped me from leaving.

“So, hey, Holly. Liz told me you were dating.”

For a second, I really did think he was making some creepy pass at me. But once it dawned on me that he was genuinely making conversation at the most inopportune moment, I was suddenly perplexed that Liz would even talk to him about my love life at all. Was that something you would typically make your ex-husband’s business? 

“Uh—well, I went on one date. That’s really it.”

“Well, not to be weird, but I have a buddy who might be good for you.”

Oh no, Mark. It was already weird, thanks.

Deep down I had been wondering when someone was going to play match maker, but I expected it to come more from, say, my mom. It wouldn’t have surprised me in the least if she had approached me with the offer of going out with a son of a friend. Or if Liz had told me one of Dr. Martin’s patients had recently been divorced and had a nice set of chompers. But I never would have expected my sister’s ex to bring up a single pal after not seeing me for, oh, three years.

“Oh, um, th-thanks?” I stammered, speaking slowly. “I’m not sure I’m ready to see someone else. I didn’t have the greatest date last time.”

Mark shrugged “Well, hey, if you change your mind, let me know.”

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll do that.” Or I wouldn’t.

He saw himself out after that, air-kissing my cheek before heading to the door. I rolled my eyes as soon as the door shut behind him with the reminder to kick Liz’s ass for discussing the private matters of my life with a total stranger. What the hell did Dr. Martin know about me? The fact that I hadn’t washed my bras in a few months, perhaps?

I headed down to Anna’s room, hoping that her fit would be a quick fix. A little bit of ice cream or a handful of cookies, maybe a trip to the park, and good as new. That was the typical remedy for a little tantrum, but walking into her room, it became pretty obvious it wouldn’t be that simple.

She was lying in the middle of the room with the entire contents of her dresser strewn around her—like a nest. The fat tears continued to roll down her cheeks with accompanying sobs and hiccups, and for a second, I wished I still cried over things like Ernie and Bert. Simpler times and all that.

I approached with caution, crouching down next to her. “Anna Banana, you wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

The backs of her little hands pressed against her eyes as she kicked her one shoed foot against the floor. “I wanna see … Ewmo-oo,” she wailed, a hiccup breaking her sentence.

“Well, kiddo, Elmo lives at Sesame Place, and you live here. But you know, maybe we can go see him soon, okay?” I reached down to smooth her messy hair off her forehead. Mark was clearly in charge of doing her hair that day, and his skills with the hairbrush and hair ties were nothing to brag about.

Anna rolled away from my touch. “No! I wanna see Ewmo now!” She rolled into a pile of t-shirts and lying on her stomach, she cried into the clothes, continuing to pound her foot against the floor.

I went to grab her and cuddle her into me, thinking that maybe a nice big hug could keep her from losing her mind more than she already had. I grabbed her under her arms and picked her up off the floor, pulling her into me, and that was the precise moment she decided to arch her back like she had just been possessed by something straight out of Hell. Her skull made direct impact with my face, crashing into me with a terrifying thud and a blinding pain unlike anything I had felt before.

Well, at least it shocked her out of her tantrum.

We sat there frozen in time—both afraid that movement would make something happen. Pain, tears—something, but I soon found that no lack of movement could keep the searing pain from radiating through my cheekbone and eye socket. It also didn’t keep my eye from swelling, and it didn’t keep Anna from howling about the knot forming on the back of her head.

My face hurt. Oh, it hurt bad. It hurt worse than the time I broke my pinkie toe after running through the basement of my parents’ house and bashing it into a metal filing cabinet. I couldn’t walk on that foot for three weeks, and I couldn’t imagine how horribly my face was going to hurt as the night went on, let alone looked.

Holly freakin’ Hughes. Battered babysitter.

I couldn’t focus on myself, though. I had to make sure Anna was okay, although I was fairly certain she was doing a whole lot better than I was. She made that obvious when she stopped her complaining and crawled off my lap to play with her toys, as if nothing happened. Still, I stood up on unsteady legs, afraid that the pain in my face would send me blacked out on the floor. I managed to walk into the kitchen to fetch an icepack for Anna’s lump, and I returned with my battered eye completely swollen shut, only able to see through the other.

“Here, Anna. Let’s put this on your—”

My niece turned to me and her eyes bugged out of her head, her mouth forming a panicked O. She scrambled away from me, backing into her bed and hugging her knees into her chest. What the hell, I thought, and glanced at myself in the mirror above her dresser, and—yeah, I would’ve run away from me too.

The entire socket had swollen to twice its original size and the horrific bruise had already begun to spread down towards my cheekbone and up to my eyelid. I reached up to gingerly touch it, pressing lightly, and the pain scorched throughout the entire left side of my face.

“Oh God,” I groaned, and went to call my mommy.

 

***

 

Mom held the washcloth full of ice to my eye tenderly. “You know, Holly, it could be broken.” Her hand held my chin still, glancing over at Anna playing calmly on the living room floor. “Is Liz on her way home?”

“I told her not to worry about it,” I said, wincing at the pain. “I cannot believe how bad this hurts. That kid’s head is made of fucking lead. Do you think I need to go to the doctor?”

“I broke my foot once stepping on a LEGO. Hurt like a son-of-a-bitch for weeks,” Mom reminisced, placing my hand on the freezing cold washcloth before walking to the fridge for a bottle of water. She handed it to me, along with a pair of Advil. “Take these. I’ll stay here with you until Liz gets home and we’ll assess the damage then. You might be fine, though. I’m hoping it just looks worse than it is.”

I mumbled something about it definitely hurting worse than it looked, and it sure as hell looked ugly.

I laid down on the couch while Mom went to fetch me another bundle of ice, and Anna approached me with fear and regret.

“I sowwy, Ant Howwy.”

“Accidents happen, kiddo,” I said, giving her a brave smile that sent daggers through my face. “I’ll be fine.”

She handed Giraffe over to me. “Make you bettah.”

I clutched the smelly, sticky, raggedy stuffed animal to my chest, instantly feeling moved and for maybe the first time, I felt as though I had the best job in the entire world.

Broken face and all.

“You’re the best kid an aunt could ask for, you know that?”

Anna smiled with her little gapped teeth and let out a laugh that would have been contagious had I not felt like my face might shatter if I so much as giggled. “I know,” she said, stroking my hair the way a mother might touch a child.

Then, just like that, she took off to watch TV while I wondered if I’d ever be able to watch Frasier again through my swollen eye.