Dear Tabitha (24 page)

I look into her eyes and lie. “It’s nothing. I’m just a little jealous of your friendship with him. I want you all to myself.” Wow, that sounds a bit stalkerish. I need to change the subject before she can see how jealous I really am, so I smile and say, “Ready to eat?”

Her face softens a little bit as she removes the food from the various bags on the table. “Let’s get this food onto our plates and get rid of the evidence that it’s actually takeout.” She laughs. Okay, crisis averted for now.

We enjoy our dinner, laugh when we both make a mess with the noodles and rice, and eat way too much food. Our conversation stays light, and for that, I’m thankful, because I can’t stand to see her retreat into her thoughts. She has her moments, and I’m just glad this isn’t one of them. This is a happy night, and I plan to make it perfect.

We clean up the table, and she leans down to blow out the candles.

“No,” I say quickly, “I like them. Leave them lit, please.” She looks so beautiful in the muted lights. “Let’s just leave the candles and the tree on.”

“Okay,” she says quietly.

I put my hand out and pull her toward the Christmas tree. I arrange her fleece blanket on the floor and we sit down, facing each other. I reach for my guitar and she smiles. “You’re going to play a song?” she asks.

I nod and our eyes lock. Without saying another word, I begin to strum my guitar. She takes a deep breath and her eyes get misty. I get through the intro, softly picking the strings and sing my favorite Christmas song, “Silent Night.” She stares into my eyes the entire time as I softly sing the song that will always remind me of my Mom.

“Wow, that was beautiful,” she says after a few moments of silence. I place the guitar on the floor behind me and reach for her hands.

“So are you,” I whisper as I bring her fingers to my lips. “Merry Christmas, Tabs.”

She closes her eyes as I kiss each of her fingers. She looks so at peace right now, and I want to keep her in this state. “I love you,” I say to her again.

“Thank you,” she says as she opens her eyes. The she smiles. “Do you want your present now?”

“No!” I say quickly. “Presents in the morning.” I reach into my duffle bag behind me. “These are for tonight.” I grin widely as I show her several DVDs that I brought with me.

“Oh my God! I love these movies!” she screeches. She grabs the DVDs from my hands and jumps up, rushing over to the television and DVD player. She puts one in and grabs the remote control. “C’mon Alex! Grab the blanket and get over here now!” She giggles as she pulls her feet underneath her, and makes room for me next to her. I join her on the couch and pull her into my arms.

Music begins and we cuddle together to watch
Santa Claus is Coming to Town
,
The Year Without a Santa Claus
, and
Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer
. Hours go by as we snuggle and giggle like little kids, sing the familiar songs together, and at one point, she even acts out the scene where Kris Kringle and the Winter Warlock sing “Put One Foot in Front of the Other”. I chuckle as she walks across the floor of her living room, mimicking Winter’s first steps in the snow. It’s ironic that the scene she’s acting out represents the character’s outer shell melting. I hope that’s what I’m witnessing in real life with her.

She joins me back on the couch and leans into my chest. My heart pounds as I realize that I would die for this girl. I love her so fucking much.

We watch every single DVD I brought with me, and she eventually falls asleep across my lap. I smooth her hair away from her face and see the fading scar on her cheek. My chest clenches as I glance at the Portland coffee table book. I hate that she has to try to replace awful memories of that place with pretty pictures in a book. It disgusts me what that fucker did to her. I lightly trace the scar with my fingertip, trying to erase his mark. She stirs slightly and stretches out her legs.

The candles flicker, and when I look at the clock, I see that it’s one in the morning and Santa is late. I quietly get up, blow out the candles, and place my gifts under her tree. She looks so comfortable on the couch, but we both can’t sleep there. I go into her room to turn down her sheets and pause for a moment to look around. It’s all white and her bed looks comfortable and soft. I can’t wait to be in here with her.

I go back into the living room and scoop her up into my arms. She throws her arms around my neck and nuzzles into my chest. Placing her on the bed, I take in all of her beauty. She tucks her hands under the pillow and softly snores. I step out of my jeans and slide in next to her, molding her body into mine. I wrap my arms around her waist and nuzzle my face into her neck. “I love you, Tabs. Merry Christmas,” I say into her hair. I hold on tight to the love of my life and contently drift off into a dreamless sleep.

Present

Age 24

T
HE PAST
few days have been a whirlwind. It’s barely one o’clock in the afternoon and my entire life has been turned upside down. Yesterday, I woke up with Alex in my apartment and told him the truth about Emily. Then, I found the letter from Marta and finally read it. After sleeping on it last night, I mustered up the courage and spoke with Marta this morning and learned that she’s dying and needs me to take Sara back home with me.

Now, I’m sitting on an airplane for the first time in my life and I’m petrified. The last time I made this trip across the county, I did it on several buses. I’ve already taken my anxiety medication, and I’m waiting for the tension to leave my body. My forehead leans against the rim of the small window as I watch our ascent through the clouds. I lose feeling in my fingertips because I’m squeezing the armrest so tight.

“Takeoff is the worst part. It will get better,” a voice says to my left.

I turn to the guy next to me and nod. “Thanks, I’ll be okay.”

“Going home?” he asks.

Ha! Far from it. Portland was never my home. It was my prison. I realize that he’s making small talk to keep me calm, but I don’t feel like I can do this. My anxiety is at an all time high, and I can’t help but feel like the plane is closing in around me, about to explode. Irrational thoughts cause my heart to race and I break out in a cold sweat. I clutch my chest as my breathing becomes shallow.

He pulls a new bottle of water from the seat in front of him. “Here, take small sips. You’ll feel better.” He places the bottle in my hand and breaks the seal around the lid, twisting it open.

I nod and place it to my lips.

“Small sips,” he repeats, and I do as he says. He encourages me to drink more water and talks to me through the entire takeoff.

I hear two chimes over the intercom and a muffled voice. “We’ve reached cruising altitude. You’re free to get up and move about the cabin. Portable electronic devices are now permitted. Our flight time will be approximately five hours and eighteen minutes. Local time in Portland is ten AM. Enjoy your flight.” The voice trails off and I place the bottle of water in the seat back in front of me.

“You don’t want this back, do you?” I ask him.

He chuckles and his smile calms me. “No, I’m glad it helped you relax.” He reaches his hand out and takes mine, shaking slowly. “I’m Jason and I’m happy to have saved another flier from takeoff anxiety.” He slowly pumps our enjoined hands up and down.

My hands are so clammy that it embarrasses me to be shaking his hand.

“Hi Jason, I’m Tabitha.”

He’s an attractive man who appears to be in his mid to late thirties, clean cut, and dressed casually, with a hint of professional thrown in. He confirms my observation by letting go of my hand and pulling his laptop out from under the seat in front of him.

As he’s logging on to his machine, he says, “I assume you don’t fly very often?”

“No. This is my first time on an airplane, ever.” I can’t believe in my almost twenty five years on this planet, that this is the first time I’ve stepped on an airplane. I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever had the opportunity.

He turns toward me and his eyes soften a little. “Really? Wow, I’ve never traveled next to someone who’s a newbie flier. Again, I’m glad that I could be of some assistance.” He flashes his confident smile.

I feel the calm come over me as the Xanax takes effect. I rarely take these meds anymore because I don’t usually need them. I haven’t had a heavy-duty anxiety attack in a long time, but stepping on a plane changed that.

“I’m sorry about before, you know, during takeoff. That was a little intense for me.” I begin to relax more as I look out the window, taking in the beautiful view from above the clouds.

“Hey, no big deal. You know, I thought you were going to pass out, and I wanted to make sure that didn’t happen.” He taps his fingers on the keys of his laptop. It’s hard not to peek at what he’s doing. He opens up a document and types feverishly.

“No peeking.” He chuckles. “This won’t be released for a few weeks, and advanced preview copies aren’t available yet. I’m working on edits now.” He winks and turns back toward his laptop.

“You’re a writer?” I ask. Wow, that’s pretty cool. I meet so many writers at the bookstore while organizing and hosting small signing events, but every time I meet a new one, I’m always in awe. It takes a lot to bear your soul to the world like they do everyday through their art.

“Yes. Shhh, don’t tell anyone. I wouldn’t want my cover blown.” He turns to face me again. “By the way, you just made it into my book.”

“Ha! Wait, what?” I’m stunned. I made it into his book?

“Yes, you’re an ‘anxious young woman, traveling across the country for the first time, escaping her demons, hoping for redemption’.” He reads from his computer screen and flashes his smile again.

“Oh, really? Is that what you think I’m doing? Escaping?” I am mildly insulted that he thinks I’m running away, but his observations are pretty acute. I’m definitely running, just not away.

“Aren’t you?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

“As a matter of fact, I’m not escaping. But I’m going to see someone that I haven’t seen in … in a long time.” Tears sting my eyes as the reality of what I’m doing hits me. Quickly swiping the dampness from my cheeks, I turn back to him. “I’ve been to Portland before. The last time I was here, I
barely
escaped with my life. I’m going back to say goodbye to some old demons and start fresh with someone very important to me.” Why am I telling him this? I watch as his fingers fly over the keyboard.

“Sounds like you just became a very intriguing character in my book, Tabitha. I think my readers and I are going to want to know more. Do we tell them more, or do we leave them with a bit of a cliffhanger?”

This is so weird, but I feel like I want to tell him everything. “I don’t know what I should say, Jason. This is a little weird, don’t you think?”

“I meet fascinating people every day, but you’re the first one in a long time that I’ve wanted to know more about. There’s just something about you. You just seem
different
, and I want to know more. I think I
need
to know more.” He’s genuinely interested and not being flirtatious, I think. Something about him just seems comfortable. He reminds me of Seth and how he was when we were just friends, before we attempted a relationship. But there is also something so
familiar
about him that I can’t quite put my finger on.

“I may need to stay a mystery, for now.” I smile and lean back into my seat.

“I don’t think so,” he responds as his fingers continue to click on the keys. “Your character just became a major distraction for the main character in the book. He’s trying to remain committed in his relationship, but
your character
comes along and all he wants to do is help her. To fix her. To protect her.”

My cheeks flush and I begin to get a little uncomfortable. “Okay…,” I say as I turn to look into the bright clouds.

He laughs softly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel awkward. This is what I do, and you just happen to fit perfectly into my story. Your character will add the perfect amount of angst and conflict that I’ve been struggling to find. This will round out my story, and my editor will have the finished product in a few days.” He seems genuinely embarrassed that he made me blush.