CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

HOLLY

 

New Years’ Eve was never a holiday I made a big deal out of, but Stephen had always made it a point to find a party for us to attend. I would have always preferred to spend the night stuck at home with a bottle of wine and a good old movie, but I always went along with his plans and dolled myself up to spend the night with him.

It only hit me then that Anthony had always been at those parties. I laughed to myself at how pissed it must have made him to watch Stephen kiss me at midnight, not him.

Well, I guess he’s finally getting his wish.

I had been excited that day to finally spend the New Year doing nothing. Liz was taking Anna over to our parents’ house to bang pots and pans, and although I had been invited, I cordially declined with a big ol’ “hell no.” I was going to enjoy my night alone with Camille, plug in Breakfast at Tiffany’s, and snuggle up with Mr. and Mrs. Pinot.

After handing Anna Giraffe and her sippy cup, she waited for Jessie to begin her story while I proceeded to open my book to the spot held by my bookmark, eager to find out if the voluptuous Clementine was going to finally get her gun-toting cowboy Heathcliff to take her for a hayride.

I had drowned out Jessie’s cheery voice and dove headfirst into the long-awaited raunchy chapter, only glancing up periodically to make sure Anna was still sitting in front of me. My loins were on fire, completely unaware that it wasn’t the most ideal setting to be getting so hot and bothered.

Her hand slid over his rippled abdominal muscles, her fingers inching their way closer and closer to the pulsating length of his ...

“Hey there, beautiful,” a voice floated into my ear before a kiss was planted on my cheek. I jumped at the sudden interruption and turned to find Ben on one knee beside me. The dimpled smile was the last thing I expected to see in what had become a sacred place to me, and my first reaction was immediate annoyance.

“What are you doing here?” I hissed at him through my teeth while glancing around to see if anybody was looking over at us. Too distracted by Ben being there, I closed my book without remembering to put the bookmark back in. “Goddammit,” I grumbled, glaring down at the oiled-and-tanned skin of the lusty couple in cowboy hats on the cover.

Ben’s smile wiped away instantly and was replaced with a look of defensive shock. “Well, I got out of work early, so I thought I’d come here to surprise you.”

I knew I should have thought the gesture was sweet. The company should have been welcomed, and probably would have been had I not been a lousy person, but because that’s exactly what I was, I could only stare at him with bewilderment plastered on my face while he pouted.

“Ben,” I said, blinking rapidly, trying to form my words wisely. “I’m working here, and you can’t just come in, and … and …” And what? I had nothing. 

“Oh, because God forbid I want to spend time with you, Holly,” Ben snapped back and looking over at him, I caught the hurt that had taken over, and I caught some quick glances from other people in our vicinity.

I stood up and grabbed his hand, pulling him along with me until we stood several feet away between a pair of bookshelves with a clear view of the unsuspecting, sleeping Anna.

“Ben, would you like me to walk into your dad’s office and just start hanging out with you while you do your work? Would that be okay? You know, while you’re sticking some dog with a vaccine or something, I could just barge in and say, ‘Hey Benny, I thought I’d just come in and chill for a while.’ Would that be okay?”

“Job?” He snickered on the word as it rolled out of his mouth. “Holly, you hang out with your niece all day. That’s hardly a job.” He smiled, looking down at me as though I were the most adorable thing on the planet, and I resisted my hand’s desire to smack him across the face.

I looked to the little girl still sleeping in a ball on the area rug, hugging Giraffe. I hoped she wouldn’t wake up to find that I was missing, and Lord knows what would have happened then. The longer I stood there with Ben, the more I knew I had to get back over there and the more I grew annoyed that he was keeping me from the job he didn’t take seriously.

Turning back to him, I shook my head, ponytail wiggling furiously. “And you play with dogs all day, Ben. What’s your point?” I snapped, knowing very well he did more than just play with puppies and kittens, but I also did more than hang out with a little girl all day.

He opened his mouth to throw another quip at me, and then stopped, scratching the back of his head. “Look, I didn’t come here to fight with you. I just wanted to come here and …” He sighed, gazing his eyes towards the ceiling.

In the two moments it took for him to divert his eyes, I spotted a very curious Brandon sitting several feet away in the café. I wondered if that’s how he spent Story Time those days; hanging out in the café while I kept the bean bag chairs warm. Seeing him there, watching me with the man he had to know was the one I had been seeing, I felt a squeeze of regret around my heart. 

With the risk of Ben noticing, I nudged my head towards Anna, hoping Brandon would catch my drift, and with two thumbs up, he headed over to take a seat behind the sleeping little girl. A small wave of relief washed over me once I was assured she would have someone familiar with her, in the event she woke up before I returned.

“Ben?” I asked, more out of impatience than anything. I mean, I didn’t exactly have all day to stand there while he counted the ceiling tiles.

His eyes came back down from the fluorescent bulbs and scratched his forehead. “I wanted to ask if you would come over tonight and spend New Year’s with Kaylee and me. I’m making crockpot chili and some rice, and maybe some other snacks if the mood strikes.” He snaked an arm around my waist, as if we hadn’t just been on the verge of killing each other, and pulled me toward him. “Then after Kay goes to bed, you and I can pop open a bottle of champagne … And maybe do a little more than kiss at midnight …” He leaned into me and the softness of his lips played against my earlobe gently, a move that had brought me to my literal knees on a number of occasions.

But instead of sinking to my knees, my stomach was cartwheeling the hell out of there, and it had been since he mentioned the K word.

The sheer possibility of meeting his daughter had been enough to leave me white-knuckled and nauseous. He had never mentioned it before, but I knew it had been bound to happen sooner or later, as long as we continued seeing each other. 

“Uh ...” I breathed unsteadily, willing myself to not succumb to his touch. “I actually had plans for tonight.”

Ben looked up from his attack on my ear. “Plans? You didn’t mention anything about plans yesterday afternoon when I came to see you.” His other arm came around my back, pulling me further into him. “Come on, Holly,” he pleaded, nuzzling against my neck. “You can’t leave me stranded for New Year’s. Who am I going to kiss?”

I turned my neck, glancing at Anna, relieved to find she was still sleeping. Brandon, however, had occupied himself with the romance novel I had left on my bean bag chair and I hid my smile at the flushed pink of his cheeks. I hoped he was enjoying it more than I was apparently allowed to.

“Ben,” I pleaded, my tone softening under his persuasive touch. “Seriously. I have other stuff going on.”

And the last thing I want to do is meet your daughter.

Holly freakin’ Hughes. First-class asshole.

Ben sighed with disappointment. “I can’t twist your arm?” I shook my head, standing firmly with my bottles of wine and movie waiting for me back at home. He shrugged, releasing my waist from his grasp. I could see the defeat picking away at the lines that sprouted around his furrowed brow. “I guess I should have expected this.”

“Ben, come on. Please don’t be hurt.” I reached out to take his hand, and he pulled away.

“No, don’t bother. It’s my fault. I sprung this on you, because I thought that maybe …” His voice trailed off as he shook his head, pursing his lips. “Never mind. Enjoy your night.”

He took a few steps back, giving me a little wave before stuffing his hands into the pockets of his scrubs. With head hanging low, he shuffled his sneakers along the patchwork quilt of rugs. I didn’t bother to watch him leave, and instead turned back to the Book Nook.

Not having the strength to pull over another bean bag chair, I dropped myself to the floor with an elbow resting on the chair Brandon occupied. My hand flew to my temple, fingers massaging gently, as I listened to the end of Jessie’s story of choice. Something about a New Year’s ball that was afraid of dropping. Turns out, he was afraid that he would cease to exist once the clock struck twelve, but the other balls assured him that he would go on to continue falling every year for the rest of his life. Seemed bleak, but he was pretty happy about it, and they lived happily ever after, the end. Jessie concluded the tale with a smile and wished everyone a happy New Year before leaving us.

On her way out, she walked past us, and I thought I noticed her smile.

Brandon, flushed cheeks and all, turned to look down at me and passed the book into my hands. He cleared his throat and crossed his legs. “Well, that was, uh, enlightening.”

“You learn anything?” I laughed, stuffing the book back into my bag.

“Yeah, actually,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Women have very unrealistic expectations of most men.” He raised his hands with air quotes. “‘The sinews of his rippled chest.’ Give me a break.”

I smirked. “You have ripples.”

“I said, most men, Holly.” He looked down at me as his fingers nudged against my arm. “Hey, you okay?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Just … having an off day, I guess,” I muttered, taken aback. He widened his eyes, allowing the light to brighten the blue, and glared at me knowingly. “He just threw me off coming here. It’s fine.”

“Mm.” He pursed his lips, and he knew I was lying. “Seeing him tonight?”

I shook my head and filled him in on my plans. “Breakfast at Tiffany’s is already waiting in the Blu-ray player and my bottles are already on the back stoop, chilling to perfection.” My fists clenched with my enthusiasm. “It’s going to be amazing.”

Brandon laughed, stretching his legs out. He clasped his hands behind his head before yawning. “Sounds good to me,” he said, mid-yawn.

“Tired?”

He blinked his eyes slowly and gave me a sidelong glance. “Exhausted, actually. I’ve been doing a lot of work stuff that’s wiping me out, but …” He shrugged. “Anyway, doing nothing sounds amazing.”

“Really?”               

“Oh, hell yeah. I’ve been to enough New Year’s parties to know that I’d rather not be at one.” His nose wrinkled as he shook his head with disgust. “Besides, what’s the point if I don’t have someone to kiss at midnight? I always get stuck sitting on the couch with the pet cat, watching everybody around me make out, and then someone’s grandma comes over to try and con me into kissing her …” He cringed while I laughed. “Yeah, no thanks.”

And with that, he pulled himself from the bean bag chair, extending a hand down to me while visions of kissing him danced through my head. I grabbed a hold, falling victim just a little to the way my body seemed to instantly warm at the touch of his hand.

With a kiss on my cheek, Brandon wished me a good night and a happy New Year. Then he turned, preparing himself to walk away when he stopped short. He faltered a bit before turning around, his jaw working with determination before taking a step towards me.

“Hey, Holly? I know we both have crazy nights planned, but if you decide that being alone isn’t all its cut out to be, why don’t you give me a call?” And as if he had the whole thing planned, he pulled a pad of paper and a pen from his pocket and scribbled what I assumed to be a number. Extending the piece of paper to me, he shrugged and added, “You know, if you feel like watching Breakfast at Tiffany’s with someone.”

 

***

 

A musical rendition of “Moon River” played dreamily through the speakers of the TV, as Holly Golightly walked through the streets of New York City as the opening credits rolled. Holly, donning her oversized sunglasses and little black dress, stops at the window of Tiffany’s, drinks a sip of her coffee and takes a gander in the other windows to marvel at the displays of jewelry she will never possess.

I feel your pain, sister.

Sprawled out on the couch, I held my bottle in the crook of my arm with my chin pressed against the gaping mouth of its opening. My one-woman party had begun before I had given the movie the okay to start rolling. In fact, it had started the moment Liz bundled Anna up and walked out the door. That was when I cracked open a bottle of beer and treated myself to a nice, warm bubble bath before taking the other two beers from the fridge to drink while enjoying an episode of Frasier; it was the one where Frasier’s brother Niles proposes to Daphne.

“Nobody will ever marry me,” I had said to Camille, curled up on the couch beside me, and I hugged my knees to my chest with a sorrowful sigh and gave the Blu-ray player permission to get Breakfast at Tiffany’s going.

If I was honest, the night hadn’t been picking me up the way I had hoped it would. I mean, it wasn’t that I hadn’t enjoyed my bath, or that the quiet house wasn’t giving me the sense of independence that I had been missing from my apartment in the city. But looking around the house with the bottle of red hugged into my body, it occurred to me that what had made a quiet New Year’s Eve so appealing years ago was that it had been outside of my norm to spend a cozy night with a bottle of wine in front of the TV. However, at Liz’s house, every night before bed was a time to snuggle up with my favorite sitcoms and cuddly cat.

The bottle, instead of boxed wine, was the only difference and I was enjoying it maybe a little too much, because by the time I was meeting Holly Golightly’s love interest, the bottle had found its way into my system.

“Don’t worry,” I mumbled to Camille. “I bought two.”

I retrieved the second bottle from the back patio, and wrapped a throw blanket around my shoulders. With the wine dangling from my hand, I tripped my slippers along the front yard until I had reached my destination: Esther’s door.

“Happy New Year!” I shouted, spreading my arms wide when she opened the door. “That i-is a … lovely mu-mu, Esther. You really have to take me shopping one of these days.” I pushed past her into her living room and flopped down on the couch, taking a swig of my bottle. “Hello, Harry!” I saluted the picture hanging above the TV before drinking again.

“Holly, you’re drunk.” Esther planted her bony hands on her hips, her face scowling with disapproval.

“Yes. Yes, I a-am,” I stated and pursed my lips contemplatively, as I rolled my eyes to the peeling paint of the ceiling. “Esther, your sky is falling.”

Sighing, she craned her neck to check the time on her wall clock. “It’s nearly nine, honey. I’m going to bed in a few minutes. Tell me what you want, and get the hell out of my house.”

I sighed, still gazing at the shavings of paint, clinging desperately to the plaster. “I was all alone and I wanted to see my best friend.” I snuggled my back into the cushions of her lumpy couch.

“Don’t you have a boyfriend you should be seeing?”

My eyes rolled at the thought of spending a moment with Ben—poor, poor Ben. “First of a-all, that guy is not my boy … boyfriend, okay? He’s one of your handsome men that I’m sup-supposed to fuck. And sec-second of all, I definitely don’t want to see him tonight. Oh, no. He wants to drink champagne and sing ‘Auld Lang Syne’, and …” I waved my hand around, grasping for the word, coming up empty. “No. Just no.”

“I thought you liked spending time with Ben?” she questioned, shuffling her feet towards the couch.

I snorted loudly. “I like Ben when we have sex, but you know, Esther, sex isn’t a magic thing, okay? Sex doesn’t … make you n-not lonely. Sex doesn’t fix things. And besides, he does this thing with his toes, and …”

“Honey, I am way too tired for this shit.”

Esther sat down next to me, raking her hands through her wispy white hair, and with that gesture, it hit me. I dug my hands into my sweatshirt pocket and pulled out the little slip of paper Brandon had given me.

“What’s that?” she asked, glancing over as I eyed the digits scrawled onto it.

I took a small sip of wine. “Brandon gave me his number today. I’ve known the guy for so long and he g-gave me his number today. Why the hell would he do that? God, he’s such a fucking …” My voice trailed off, looking at the number through booze-bleary eyes.

“Such a fucking, what?” Esther’s mouth twisted into a little toothless smirk that told me she knew exactly what he was.

“He’s just … a fucking good kisser. God, he’s a good kisser. He should kiss Benny and … teach him.” I smacked my forehead before taking another gulp of wine. “He kissed me last week. Did I tell you that?”

Esther kept her expression indifferent. “He kissed you again?”

I closed my eyes and nodded, emphasizing my movements. “Yep, he did.”

“I thought he just wanted to be friends?” She raised an eyebrow.

My mouth twitched into a smile, and I opened my eyes to look at the number in my hand. “Yeah, well … Fucking m-mistletoe.”

“Holly, get off my couch and out of my house.”

“Why?” I whined, snuggling into one of the throw pillows with every intention of falling asleep.

“Because,” she said patting my leg, “you’re going to go call him and leave me the hell alone.”