The Writer (9 page)

"Please tell me you're leaving after the wedding."

"No. I fly out Monday morning. I've made a list for the meetings, and I just e-mailed you the spreadsheet of articles for the next couple of editions..."

"Rochelle." She dropped her voice. "Does this have to do with whatever this thing is between you and Elijah? The tension has been sky high around here; you could cut it with a knife. You two hold us together, and when you're not in sync, none of us are!" Then in almost a whisper: "Have you told him?"

I glanced beyond her, where Elijah's assistant editor desk sat next to the frosted window. Elijah sat hunched over his computer, with Alicia peering over his shoulder, pointing at the screen. He turned to face her and planted a kiss on her lips.

"I really don't think he'll care."

"He cares," Marion said. "Besides Alicia, you are his world."

That was precisely why I needed to go.

"You sure you can't fix this?"

My insides fluttered. I lowered my eyes. "No."

"Okay," she conceded. "Go get your fresh air; I'll hold down the fort, the best I can."

"Thank you," I told her. "I know you will do fine."

"Just promise me one thing," she said her hand on the door. "In three years, you have taken this publication far beyond you have thought possible. I am so proud of you. And you know he is a big part of your success. Don't lose him."

I nodded, too afraid my emotions would betray me if I spoke. But that was part of my inner pep talk today. Losing him was the healthiest thing I could do.

I lifted my coffee cup to her as she left. "Here's to vacations."

She smiled. Half way out the door she turned to me, and said, "Hey, what are you doing on Christmas?"

Elijah

I reached over and turned the radio up. Some rocky Christmas crooner was belting on the Satellite radio about the presents under the tree. It reminded me that it was Christmas morning, but did little else. I shrugged into my coat, hoping she'd let me turn up the heat, but also to block out of droning. My breath fogged the windows, as we sped down the highway on route to her parents' house.

It's not that I didn't want to hear Alicia talk about her latest patients at the hospital; I just had other things on my mind.

That I really didn't want on my mind.

But Rochelle was there, none the less.

I would never forgive myself for how cruelly I had had to treat her over the last week. I prayed she was strong enough to hold on a few more days so this whole thing could blow over. I hoped she knew that if I wanted to save my relationship with Alicia, it meant setting a few bridges aflame.

But could I put this one out?

I honestly didn't know.

The song had changed and was talking about kissing Santa clause. Alicia turned it up, humming quietly to the tune. I cringed, hoping she wouldn't sing. I glanced at her and felt my mood soften. The long chestnut hair splayed down her shoulders, and her thin fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly at the top. She turned and caught my eye, smiling.

I loved this woman.

But... it wasn't the same. I'd started my novel this week, and I had no one to tell about it. No one to look it over, no one to discuss character development. I had tons of ideas for the upcoming editions of the magazine, but no one to share it with. There was a hole in my life that Alicia wasn't filling, and I wasn't sure how to fix it.

The song ended, and Alicia turned down the radio to discuss a recent triage episode on her shift last night.

My life was a triage, who was I kidding? I looked out the window at the blur of tall trees on the side of the two lane highway that weaved its way over the white-capped mountains. The shades of green and brown in the forest were moving too fast for me to see the details of the strong pines, which had stood strong for so many decades. Their mossy tops blended with the gray storm clouds that threatened the arrival of more snow. The two-lane highway was empty except for us, the pavement a haze that matched the sky; I knew Alicia would be pushing 80 miles per hour, or more. A wedding in a week, a move in two, and hopefully a new job down the road. Everything was changing, and it was honestly looking like a bit of a wreck.

Rochelle would have said that the most beautiful wreck has a silver lining.

"Wha'cha thinking about?" Alicia broke the awkward silence.

"Oh, just work stuff," I said, rubbing my hands together to invite warmth. "Can we turn the heat up?"

"I'm so glad to be out of here and on with our lives, don't you think?" her voice held no mirth, no spark.

"Yeah," I agreed, blowing into my freezing gloved hands.

"I have some good news for you," she said, eyes on the road.

"Really?" Stop talking. "And where's that heat?"

"I signed those papers for the condo on the coast we looked at on the net."

The one with a price tag equal to our income? "What?" I exclaimed. I turned the heat up, deciding she was ignoring me.

"Yeah, with the private hot tub and full pool access..." She turned the heat off.

I looked out the window, my hands turning to icicles. "We hadn't decided on anything, Alicia," I was very angry. "And we can't afford that place."

"Oh, we can, I mean, as soon as you get a job it will be fine."

"I thought I was going to work on my novel for a while." The cloudy circles of my breath crowded the window.

"Well, I mean, you're not getting paid for it yet so you might as well look for work until it gets off the ground."

"Maybe," my teeth were clenched.

"And besides, we both know it's never going to go anywhere. Medicine, science, logic. That's where the big money in writing is, after all." She hummed along with the radio's tunes of the Christmas trees.

That hum had never irritated me so much in my life. Despite the fact we were speeded down the highway, I just wanted to punch out the window, leap from the car, and hike all the way home.

"Turn up the heat." I said quietly.

"It's not even cold in here." Her eyes fixated on the blurring pavement, as we careened around a corner.

"It's freezing, it could snow any moment."

"Some people have all the heat they want, and they still can't be satisfied with what they have."

"Well, maybe the heat makes them feel warm and comforted, like no other heat can."

"Maybe the heat isn't what they need and it's not what makes them happy!" The small car was no match for her rising voice.

"Maybe the heat is exactly what I need and you aren't!" I'd never yelled at her. Not in 3 years. In a quieter tone, I said, "I'm cold, turn up the heat."

"No."

I sighed, and gave up. It was Christmas, and I could only imagine what the visit to her parents would be like if I continued this conversation.

Fuming, I slid my phone out of my pocket for something to deter my attention. Maybe she'd said Merry Christmas. Something, to open the channels of communication – the silence was killing me. I browsed my messages absently, looking for one from her. Mom, Marion, Alex. A friend from high school. Alicia. And this one? The sender was "unknown."

So, our lives take us in different paths. And so it's meant to be, because I cared about you more than either of us would even admit. I miss our friendship; my hurt hurts that I can't fix this. You know me, I want to fix everything. My life without you is bleak. You were my friend during a dark time when I needed someone the most, and you inspired me to start writing. You were there the first day our business opened. You taught me not to care what others thought, and showed me chivalry I thought died long ago. I'll never forget you, and it's been an honor to call you my friend. No matter where life takes you, never forget to inspire others, live, learn, laugh, and love.

I knew from the tone it was Rochelle. But why "unknown"? I typed a response, my phone turned towards to window to avoid Alicia's peering eyes.

Rochelle, this sounds like goodbye? It doesn't have to be. You are my best friend, I don't say that lightly. Life will never take me away from you, because we always end up coming back. We can fix this, we just have to give this time...

My clumsy cold fingers slipped off the "e" on the fragile touch screen and hit send. Almost immediately, a ding alerted me that the message was not sent.

Now I was seething.

"Alicia." My teeth ground so loudly I thought my head would explode.

She glanced at me, then back at the road.

"Alicia, turn... the... heat... UP."

"I said no."

"Alicia, I mean it."

"You need to learn to live with it, because it's better for you."

"Alicia, did you block Rochelle from my phone?"

She was silent.

"I swear to God, Alicia, turn up the heat!"

"NO!" she yelled. "You need to learn that your little whore isn't what you really want!" She slowed to a crawl around a sharp corner, thankfully actually following the recommended 25 mile per hour speed for once.

I grabbed the wheel and yanked it from her hands, spinning the car out of the control. The front tires caught the edge of the highway and sent the car rolling. Three times my head smashed against the window until it finally shattered, spraying pointed glass into my cheek and all over my lap, before everything went dark.

All I wanted was heat.

Rochelle

Thwump!

I jumped as the basketball bounced harmlessly off my windshield, and rolled onto the grass in the front yard.

"Ma! Aunt Rochelle is here!" Levi, Marion's 11 year old son, yelled at the front door, picking up his ball. "Sorry."

Well, the jig was up, and I'd have to go in after all. I got out of my car and hoisted my box of gifts from back seat. The sport store had made a killing on my credit card yesterday.

As I walked up to Marion's brightly lit 2 story house, Liam popped his head out an upstairs window. "Aunty Chelle, did you bring cookies?"

I looked up that tall, gangly 14 year old. "Sorry bud, no, but I have fudge!"

"I'll be right down, gotta get pants on!"

Marion flung open the door, dresses in a shimmering crimson skirt, a black blouse, and a neon green and red apron tucked over it. She hugged me. "I'm so glad you could come!"

She leaned me to the side as a football went barreling past, narrowly missing my ear. "Luke! You better not be playing in the house!" she screamed, and I swear it was directly at me, and not into the recesses of the house.

I found myself wondering why in the world I had agreed to this chaos.

Oh yeah, because spending Christmas alone again was the worst feeling in the world.

I remembered last year, curled up with A Christmas Carol and drinking hot chocolate, spiked with coffee. Okay, it was mostly coffee. I still didn't know why I needed a six-foot tree, but Christmas had been such a big deal in my family as a kid, it seemed wrong not to have the biggest and the best. Elijah had begged me to go with them to Alicia's parents, but I had declined to serve as third wheel, especially on the holidays. I had went shopping on Christmas, when the stores were blessedly empty and stress-free, and treated myself to a prime rib dinner at a local diner, where I was one of three customers that the tired waitress served. At the end of the day, I was still alone, curled up under my blankets, and grateful the day was finally over.

It was a far change from four years ago, when Alex had cleaned obsessively for 3 days, just to have Alicia and Elijah over, who had just started dating. My relationship was Alex was fading by then, and even though he'd been distant and unaffectionate, he'd gone to great lengths to feign his physical attraction for me still existed. I never knew why, but it had made Elijah especially uncomfortable – I could see it in his eyes, the way he sifted in his seat, and his constant pacing in the living room. I had thought it was because he was in a new relationship, and Alex and I had been together for a little over a year, and the differences were too great. Now I always wondered if it had been something else.

Three years ago had been a little better, when it had just been Dominic and I, his parents being two states away and our college checking accounts on the negative side. Our tree was filled with crowds of tiny boxes containing memory sticks, jump drives, and CD's, the only thing he knew how to shop for. He hated Christmas movies and was a vegetarian, so our dinner had been tofurkey on top of gluten free rolls. I'd fallen asleep alone that night, as I did most nights, to the sounds of him hacking and slashing away on his video games.

So the next year, when Alicia had started her job at the hospital, and picked up double overtime on Christmas, it was just Elijah and I for the holidays. We had baked cookies and a turkey, danced around the Christmas tree, and laughed to the Muppets. It was one of the best Christmas memories I had, and I held it close to my heart. It was almost enough to make up for my loneliness the year before, and the year after.

Christmas and I just didn't get along these days.

Seventeen year old Luke came barreling in from the back yard, muddy cleats leaving icy brown remnants on the clean kitchen floor. Marion held her hands out to indicate the marks, then held them up. "Really, son?"

Luke looked behind him, tossed his long red curls, so close to his mothers, out of his face. "Whoops, sorry, Ma." Then to me, "Hi, Aunt 'Chelle."

"Take them off, and come get this box from Aunty."

He did, and went about putting them under the already crowded tree. "It's just some football gear and gift cards in really big boxes," I whispered to Marion.

"They'll love it."

"Weren't they just toddlers yesterday?" I sighed. Luke frowned at me.

"Yeah, they were. I remember when Liam was still trying to climb on the table for fudge that one year, and we caught him.

"I still like fudge!" the teenager called from the stairs. He barreled down them, two at a time, and flew at me in a hug. The boy was taller than I was!

"Geez, M, what do you feed them?" I laughed, clapping Liam on the back. We moved towards the kitchen, where a timer was shrilling.