Twenty-one
Kristmas
When we get to the tree lot, the place is packed and the party is in full swing. As soon as Mad parks while Maggie jabbers about the snow machine and bounce houses that look like gingerbread houses.
Circling the front of the truck, I wait for Mad to pull Maggie out of her car seat. There’s a snowman building contest going on and strolling carolers in Victorian costumes. A pretty epic-looking snow slide and an old-fashioned cakewalk. The tree tent has been transformed. I can see festively decorated tables. Families eating and laughing. Opening gifts while the Santa from earlier in the day makes the rounds, talking to kids and posing for pictures.
“That’s not the real Santa. That’s Grandpa Tonks. He loves Christmas.” I look down just in time to watch Maggie reach for my hand. “He says he didn’t always. That when he was done being a soldier it made him sad but then he married Grandma and she growed his heart.”
“Grew.” I look over the top of her head to find Mad standing on the other side of her. He’s watching the two of us, same as before. “Grandma grew his heart.”
Maggie sighs. “Same thing.”
“Not really.” He laughs at her when she gives him an eye roll.
“Come on, I want to slide,” she says, giving the parking lot a long, suspicion look before pulling us across it, swinging her arms like she did this afternoon. As soon as we’re on the other side, Maggie pulls free, darting ahead of us, heading straight for the huge pile of snow. Mad fits his thumb and forefinger into his mouth and give a short, shrill whistle. “In-coming” he shouts and the young, dark-haired woman who was dressed like elf earlier, raises her and waves at him before dropping to her knees and intercepting a flying Maggie. They go down in a laughing tumble in the snow, arms, all arms and legs.
“McKayla.” She’s Mad’s baby sister. Last time I saw her she was barely older than Maggie.
“Yeah.” Mad tucks his hands into his pockets and watches while his daughter and sister have a snowball fight.
“Can I ask you something?”
As soon as I say it, his jaw goes tight. “She told you I’m not her real dad.” When I don’t answer him, he turns to look at me. “Her biological father was in my unit. We were close and he was killed. His wife was pregnant at the time and I put my name on her birth certificate because he asked me to.” He shakes his head like he resents having to explain it to me. “She re-married last year. Some fucking asshole who isn’t interested in raising another man’s kid.”
“She just left her?” I look away from him, find Maggie, running and laughing in the snow. It’s unimaginable to me, how someone can do that. Just disappear on someone they claim to love.
“Yeah. She just left her,” he says. “Dropped her off on my mom’s doorstep while I was deployed, a few months after they got married because it just wasn’t working. It’s been nearly a year and all Maggie has to show for it is a few postcards and a vague promise to visit soon.” He steps in front of me, blocking my view of her. “She’s been through a lot, Kris. She’s lost too much.” He shakes his head at me, dark gaze sharp and pointed right at mine. “So you can’t promise my daughter forever unless you mean it. I’m willing to forgive you just about anything—but not that.”
All the air is sucked out of my lungs while something sharp and black grinds its way through my gut because I did that. I did it to Mad. I might not have been the one who left but I’m the one who disappeared and he’s right to not trust me with his daughter’s heart.
Or with his.
Because a few postcards and a vague promise are more than I ever gave him.
I nod, short, choppy jerk. “Okay.”
He keeps looking at me. He has more to say. A lot more. Instead of giving it a voice, he side-steps me and disappears into the tent behind me.
I don’t follow Mad, even though I want to. Instead, I walk around. Find a vendor giving out hot apple cider and fresh kettle corn. Cast my vote for most Best Snowman. Listen to the carolers. Finding a bench near the snow slide, I sit down to watch Maggie play with a group of kids. Every once in a while, she stops what she’s doing and waves at me.
I smile and wave back, even though I feel like a fraud, every time I do.
“I was wondering where you’ve been hiding.” Looking away from Maggie, I see Mad’s mom ease herself onto the bench beside me. “Mad’s getting itchy feet. I was afraid he was going to drag you out of here before I had a chance to see you again.”
“Leave?” I check my phone. It’s nearly ten. We’ve been here for more than three hours. “I’m sure he’s got a million things to do—” Using my thumb, I call up my Uber app. “I should just order an Uber to come—”
“Oh no, you don’t.” Marcy takes my phone and sets it on the other side of the bench. “I do believe you’ve done enough running—you do it again, Mad’s liable to go nuclear.”
“You know about us.” I can’t look at her when I say it. “He told you.”
“That you’re in love with each other?” she says, with a laugh. “No one had to tell me. I’ve always known. Even when you were kids—watching the two of you together, you couldn’t help but know.”
“You’re right, we were kids,” I say, suddenly feeling defensive. “Dumb, stupid kids who should’ve known better.”
“I’m talking about when you were kids—barely older than Maggie.” She shakes her head at me. “You were so close, I couldn’t see where he ended and you began. When your father died, all he cared about was making sure you were okay. You’re the reason he chose to live with his father instead of leaving with me.” I look at her when she says it, the disbelief on my face making her smile. “I can’t go mom. I need to stay with Kris—that’s what he said to me. He loved you, even when he didn’t know he loved you.”
“Our parents are married.” I say it out loud, not sure if I’m reminding her or myself. “He’s my step-brother.”
“Is that why you send his letters back?” she asks. “Because you feel like it’s wrong to love him? That it might upset your mom and Mark?”
I told myself that was why. That whatever possibility there was of us being together died the day my mom and Mark got married. That what happened between was a mistake. A bout of shared hysteria. That Mad’s leaving was for the best. The separation would give a chance to work each other out of our systems. Move on. Be happy.
But that wasn’t it. I know that now.
If I’m being honest with myself, I’ve always known it. Feel it every time I see one of his letters in the mail.
“No.” I shake my head. “That’s not why.”
“Then it doesn’t matter. It never mattered.” She shakes her head. “What matters is that you’ve been given a second chance and you owe it to yourself to take it.”
Like he knows we’re talking about him, Mad appears, walking across the lot, heading for Maggie. “He’s angry with me.” I watch him kneel down and talk to her, gesturing toward McKayla. “He has a right to be.”
“He’s not angry.” She pats my knee, giving me a sad smile. “He’s hurt. Confused. Has a daughter to consider—but he’s not angry. Not really.” Standing, she gives me my phone back. “I’m driving McKayla and Maggie back to Mad’s house and Mad is driving you home. It’s a twenty-minute drive. Use it wisely.”