Intoxicated (28 page)

I snuck a peek at Matthew smiling at his
sister. It was nearly impossible to imagine him how he must have
been years ago. From the bits and pieces that Blake had let slip,
he had been quite the athlete, always the ladies man and more than
a little cocky. I couldn’t see the arrogance now; his struggles had
washed that clear away. His guilt was a double-edged sword; it had
floated him back down to earth at the same time it made him feel
unworthy of being here.

My eyes traveled to Blake. She, too, had gone
through so much. Though the legal troubles hadn’t been her own, she
had dealt with the repercussions of standing by her brother’s side.
I couldn’t fathom parents who could disown one child, let alone
two. I was sure that hidden in the tangled web of Matthew’s arrests
would be some explanation of what had gone on between her and
Chris. To lose your parents, your brother and your boyfriend in one
fell swoop had to be awful.

“Lauren,” Blake called out.

I snapped to attention, blushing as I
realized that this was not the first time she had addressed me.
“Sorry,” I muttered.

Blake grinned. “As I was saying, Lauren,
while you were daydreaming about your new car, Matthew and I were
discussing Christmas.”

I sighed inwardly with relief. If she wanted
to blame my lack of attention on my new vehicle, I wasn’t about to
argue.

“Since Thanksgiving went so well,” I began
sarcastically, “I think we should have a separate holiday for just
the three of us.”

“Agreed,” Matthew said quickly, “though I
think our problem is only with one of your guests.”

He caught my eye and I nodded. I knew he
shared the sentiment with Blake. If Eric wasn’t in the picture, we
could have another get together with my dad and Gracie. But he was,
so that option was out. I couldn’t say I blamed Matthew for voicing
his opinion. I wasn’t eager to repeat the drama that had unfolded a
few weeks back, or the tongue lashing the two of us had gotten from
Blake as a result. Things still hadn’t gotten completely back to
normal between us. I had the distinct feeling that we walked on
eggshells in each other’s presence, afraid of Blake’s watchful
eyes.

“So,” I said, drawing out the syllable as I
thought, “how about we have Christmas Eve here? I have to work till
noon, and then we could get together. Then I’ll wake up in the
morning on Christmas Day and drive down to Indy. The two of you
will be free to do whatever it is that you do usually.”

“Which amounts to a whole lot of nothing,”
Blake laughed, “which is kind of sad.”

Her face fell momentarily, a blink and you
missed it kind of thing. I caught it all, and it made me feel so
badly for her. Christmas had always been big at the Jefferies
house, my dad’s favorite holiday. I used to think it was due to the
fact that he was trying to make up for being a single parent, but
the truth of the matter was he just loved that time of year. If I
were to show up unannounced at his place any time in the month of
December, I knew I would be greeted at the front door with a giant
wreath and one of those silly reindeer doormats. Inside my
childhood home would be an impressively decorated tree complete
with expertly wrapped gifts underneath.

I had been so wrapped up in all of my issues
that I hadn’t noticed that the queen of interior decorating hadn’t
put a stitch up in her own home for Christmas. I wondered if she
was just that busy, too, or if there was some sort of a mental
block against it. I weighed the risk of her being pissed off at me
for bringing a live tree home and setting it up tomorrow. I decided
to try to get Matthew alone and ask him if she had some aversion to
Christmas just in case. It didn’t seem like it, but I didn’t want
to open up an unnecessary can of worms.

“So it’s settled then,” Matthew said, “we are
on for Christmas Eve.”

“I won’t have time to cook or anything,” I
said quickly, the realization popping into my head, “not with work
and all.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Blake shrugged, “we
can do something simple like ham sandwiches. Not every meal has to
be a massive undertaking. You don’t need to impress us.”

“Suit yourself. But one thing that I can do
right is cook. Sadly, you all witnessed how unimpressive my
relationship skills are.”

“So how is Eric?” she asked pointedly.
Matthew rolled his eyes and pretended to be disinterested in the
conversation. He rose from the bar and collected the empty pizza
box and our plates. He kept one ear tuned to what we were saying as
he threw the trash away in the pantry.

It was my turn to shrug. “Okay, I guess. We
haven’t really talked about things. I was waiting to do that in
person, you know?”

“Well, you’re free to fly now,” Blake mused,
“I take it a trip to Indy is in order? Before Christmas?”

“Time’s kind of running out for that,” I
admitted, “it’ll keep until then. He’s busy with end of the year
stuff at work and so am I. And then the whole Christmas thing
thrown in there with shopping for gifts and all.”

“And the total lack of desire of addressing
the problem?” she smiled.

“That too. We’re both pretty good at ignoring
the elephant in the room.”

“So I’ve noticed. You’re trying for two
ruined holidays in a row. Maybe you could make it three and go for
New Year’s also.”

“Your faith in me is astounding.”

“My faith in you is astounding. Eric,
however, I have no faith in whatsoever.”

“We are talking. That’s something.”

“Sure it is.” Blake didn’t sound
convinced.

Matthew returned to the breakfast bar and
took his stool, an amused expression on his face. I elbowed
him.

“I don’t need you chiming in, too,” I
muttered.

“What?” he laughed, “I didn’t say
anything.”

“You don’t have to.”

Our eyes met again, and his expression was
indecipherable. My breath caught nonetheless, and I tried to read
between the lines. His eyes narrowed, out of concern, perhaps?
Then, just as quickly as the moment snuck up on me, it vanished
into thin air and he was grinning at me.

“I’ve already got your present,” he teased,
“and you are going to love it.”

My stomach somersaulted. Sure, there was a
part of me that suspected he might get me something. After all, we
were celebrating together and to come empty handed would be
slightly rude. I had counted on it being of the drugstore variety,
hastily purchased at the last minute out of obligation. A friendly
gesture. A bottle of lotion maybe, but not something that I would
love.

I coughed slightly before choking out a
response. “Great. Because you are going to love your present,
too.”

At least I hoped I could find something that
he would halfway like.

“That is, when you buy it, right?” He winked,
letting me know that I couldn’t fool him.

“Shut up.”

“Hey, gorgeous, nobody’s perfect. I know it
takes you forever to make up your mind about things, anyway. You
probably have a spreadsheet in your room with possible gift ideas
that you’ve been working on since the day we met.”

“Again, shut up.”

“So,” Blake interjected, “if you work until
noon, we can count on eating about one thirty? I figure Matthew
will come over early, so we can start on stuff before you get here.
That way we’ll be done early enough that you can get up at the
crack of dawn Christmas morning for your drive to the big
city.”

“Sounds good to me,” I agreed.

Blake’s cell rang. She picked it up off of
the counter beside her, stared at the screen for a split second,
and finally answered it. “Snyder Designs,” she chirped brightly,
walking into the living room for privacy.

Now was my chance. I leaned over the counter,
effectively cutting the distance between myself and Matthew in
half. Instinctively, he leaned in as well. For a moment, I was
rendered speechless at his proximity. Once I had collected my
thoughts I whispered conspiratorially, “Why doesn’t she have a
Christmas tree yet?”

This was clearly not what he had been
expecting. He stared at me blankly. I chose to continue.

“I mean the woman decorated your mailbox for
Thanksgiving, and we have no Christmas decorations up. If I didn’t
know better, I’d think it was the middle of summer in here.”

He looked conflicted. So there was a reason
behind the lack of Christmas spirit. I watched intently as he
struggled inwardly with what he should do next. Would he tell me
what was going on? I desperately wanted him to. There was a part of
me that needed him to trust me. Instinct told me that whatever the
issue was, it was his sister’s alone. This greatly reduced the
probability of me finding out, as he seemed willing to do whatever
it took to protect her. But I was harmless. I wouldn’t hurt
her.

I sighed, admitting defeat. “I just need to
know if she’ll object to me decorating the house. If a tree is
going to piss her off, then I’ll not get one.”

He swallowed hard, craning his neck to see
into the living room. I could still hear indistinguishable
conversation coming in bits and pieces as Blake spoke with her
client. Deciding the coast was clear, he said softly, “I went to
jail about this time of year. Christmas was the first holiday she
was alone. It didn’t sit well. She had just been disowned by our
parents and she and Chris had just broken up. And I was, well,
indisposed.”

I nodded, eager to learn more. I didn’t want
to pry, but I did want to understand. Matthew had drawn an outline
of an idea. I wanted him to color it in. Unfortunately he wouldn’t
get the chance, even if he wanted to. Blake had wandered close
enough to the kitchen that we could hear that her phone call was
wrapping up.

“Go ahead and get the tree,” he advised,
placing his hand over mine. “She’d never do it for herself. And
that will be the best present that you can give her. She needs to
move on as much as I do.”

He gave my hand a squeeze prior to pulling
away. We separated not a second too soon, back to our respective
ends of the counter right as Blake breezed into the room. As
expected, the heat from his touch burned my skin long after his
hand had been removed. Absentmindedly, I rubbed the offending area
with the fingers of my opposite hand.

“Well,” Matthew said, rising from his stool,
“it’s getting late. I’m going to take off.”

“See you, dork.” Blake grinned.

“Bye,” I said simply.

He hugged his sister quickly, pausing for a
brief moment in front of me. If Blake’s watchful eyes hadn’t been
fixed on us, I was sure he would have done the same with me.
Instead, he gave me sort of an awkward pat on the shoulder and was
gone.

As soon as the door closed behind him, I
turned to my roommate. “What did he get me?”

She shrugged. “No clue.”

“He said I would love it. This makes me
scared.”

“Because Eric would be jealous if he
knew?”

“Damn. I hadn’t thought that far yet. No, I’m
scared because I haven’t gotten him anything yet.”

“I have a feeling that no matter what you
would get him, he would think it was the best present ever.”

“Blake,” I whined, “there is nothing going
on.”

“Then why would Eric be jealous?”

“Because it smacks of something going on. My
God, what if Matthew gets me something wonderful and I have to lie
about where I got it?”

Blake twisted her strand of blue hair about
her finger. “I don’t think he’s that stupid. Besides, Eric doesn’t
see you enough to have a mental inventory of everything you own.
Even if it is something like jewelry or a sweater, you can always
say you got it for yourself. Or that I gave it to you or
something.”

“You, my friend, are pretty devious. And it
comes in handy sometimes.”

“Do you really think that Eric tells you
everything? Why should you be any different?”

I sighed. “I worry that he doesn’t tell me
everything. Trust me, I know he has plenty of opportunity to do
whatever he pleases. But if I start doubting him, then what does
that say about our relationship? If I want him to trust me, I need
to give him the same respect. And he should trust me, because
nothing is going on.”

“I think the scene at Thanksgiving says
plenty about your relationship. Not all of it good.”

I would have been upset with her if her words
hadn’t rung true. I had been hearing the same commentary from
Gracie pretty much ever since we became friends. To have Blake hold
virtually the same opinion in the two seconds she had witnessed us
together was eye-opening. Maybe I was the one not seeing things
clearly. Instead of firing off a quick retort, I stared down at the
granite countertop.

“See, you know I’m right.” Her words were
soft, not arrogant. She slid onto the seat beside me gracefully.
She gave me a moment to absorb her words, then continued. “There’s
a saying about how insanity is doing the same thing over and over
and expecting different results.”

Again, I kept quiet. I did look back up at
her, choosing not to believe that she was calling me insane. I had
a general feeling I knew where she was headed. I had gone there in
my own mind more often than I cared to think about.

“Time and again he hurts you and you take him
back. I know that people disagree. People don’t always get along.
But these aren’t simple arguments. You have conflicting viewpoints
over major things. And because you hate confrontation, you go along
with what he says most of the time.”

“I have stood up to him about things before.
The move here, for instance.”

“Right, but eventually you are going to have
to be on the same page. At least on the basic stuff. A
long-distance relationship won’t work forever. At some point you
want to get married and have kids, I’m sure. It’s a little hard to
raise a family together when you’re two hours apart. One of you is
going to have to back down. Likely not him.”