Page 25 of Under the Influence
“Come on Dodie. The kids are waiting.” Chryseis links arms with the wide-eyed librarian and guides her toward the community room engulfed with Elvis’s husky tenor rendition ofHere Comes Santa Claus. None of the kids seeming to care about the retro music. Already squealing and fingering the bottles of sprinkles and fat tubes of icing spread out on the cookie decoratingtable.
Both ladies beeline straight for two girls squabbling over a container overflowing with a rainbow of gum drops while I slide down into one of the chairs by the door. Joining the waiting section of parents, splitting their attention between their kids and their phonescreens.
While I laser focus on her. So fucking gorgeous with the huge smile glowing on her stunning face while she squats down to help one of the preschoolers sprinkle sparkly snowflakes across gaudy green frosting. His little forehead scrunched in deep concentration while his stubby fingers clump the candy in thick globs on the reindeer’sbelly.
I know I’m a dick for swearing in front of her friend, but god damn I hate fucking hearing that bastard’s name. Especially with the assumptionhe’sher fucking fiancé. And I’m nothing but a fucking fool for severing our connection so completely and not monitoring her better. Thinking I needed absolutely zero contact, including ending the surveillance from my guys to not tip off Savage or any other motherfucker who might be watching. Additional punishment to add to my own self-disgust to let their relationship get that far. That anyone, including Chryseis herself, would ever fucking think she’d actually be hiswife.
Trying to calm my furious ass down, I blow out a deep breath and twist in my chair to release some of the fury gripping the taut muscles in my back. Motherfucker. The punk ass, three seats over, watches Chryseis too. Ogling a taken woman with his own fucking wedding ring circling his finger. I know she’s fucking hot in her tight jeans and sexy thigh high boots, but at least have some fucking dignity. Another reminder of what I have and almost fuckinglost.
Her cheerful giggle draws my gaze away from the idiot and back to her. Laughter parting her sweet lips as she spreads her arms. Making room for as many kids as possible to cuddle on her lap and around her instead of inside their rolled out sleeping bags while Dodie reads about a bear trying to stay awake during preparations for Christmas Eve. The children follow along as if hypnotized. Occasionally yelling out some of the words before the librarian reads them. Annoying but kind of cute Iguess.
When Dodie announces it’s time for the sharing circle, they jump up, wiggling and twisting to get next to Books. Jockeying to stand closest to her as they form a circle. Each child taking a turn to proclaim what they want for Christmas. Puppy, Barbie dream house, and Lego Batman are some of the requests I can understand. Their words jumbled practically into mush with theirenthusiasm.
I guess this is what regular kids with normal childhoods do. Believe. Wish. Receive. Because all I ever knew was that Santa Claus doesn’t visit bastard kids with no dad and no money. No matter how good I tried to be. I never made the nicelist.
I hope she’spregnant.
The random thought bursts into my head like a motherfucking atomic bomb. Despite how stupid and twisted and ludicrous the idea is, I fucking hope I fucked my baby into her belly again. It was wrong to fuck her last night. Wrong to expect her to give herself to me. Wrong to fuck her without a condom. But I don’t give a damn about any of those failures. I know we’re both clean. Because I haven’t fucked anyone since her, and she doesn’t lie. If she said she didn’t fuck him, then shedidn’t.
None of that matters now though. I want this. With her. Right fucking now. Kids with sticky fingers and joyous faces and contented hearts. With no greater concern than singing the right words and picking their favorite colors to decorate their stockings and waking up before the sun rises to find their dreams have cometrue.
I don’t know jack shit about families and celebrations and memories. But Chryseis does. She knows all of this stuff. And she’ll show me. Just as surely as she glues cotton balls on fucking cheap ass red felt we’ll have a family and do the things parents are supposed to do to keep their kids safe andhappy.
I have to force myself to keep my ass planted on the cheap plastic. Because I’ve never been so certain of anything until now. I don’t like fucking sitting around. I’m an impatient bastard who’s survived this long by driving and dictating. And I'm just as damn sure as she patiently fluffs that fake snow I will fuck this up. Hopefully not so bad that she won’t forgive me and let me keep trying to be better. To be more than I am. To be what shedeserves.
My phone finally buzzes with the message I’ve been waitingfor.
All doneboss.
Perfect timing as cleanup efforts begin. Chryseis hands off bedrolls and knapsacks to parents while the kids gingerly grasp their crafts and cookies tighter than their most prized possessions. A few snuggling in for brief hugs with my girl before running past me and into the hallway. Marring her with crumbs and glitter but never dampening her simple beauty or her joyous expression. Which I hope my surprise makes her even moreecstatic.
Gio stares at me.An expression I’ve never seen before softens the mask of indifference he normally wears. Wistful. Almost nostalgic. I shake my head. That can’t be right. He has no feelings. Barely experiences emotions, especially not longing. He never yearns for anything. He just takes what hewants.
And then throws it away when he doesn’tanymore.
The familiar ache returns to my chest. Now the celebration is winding down, and I'm forced to face him again. The short reprieve over much toosoon.
Once the Bryson twins race into the corridor, Dodie’s arms wrap tight around me. A comforting touch I’ve missed. Although I love the challenge of the university research, the simple joy of this intimate library remains entwined around my heart. Too thick and deep to ever wither. “I’ll be back for the Valentine’s party, if that’sokay?”
“Of course it is honey. It wouldn’t be the same withoutyou.”
"ThanksDodie."
Relieved she doesn't mention anything about the earlier awkwardness with Gio, I wave a final good-bye before she pushes the craft cart toward the double closet in the back storage area. I dawdle retrieving my coat. My mind racing to figure out what to say to him. To remind him I need some space as well as time towork.
The smooth fabric glides out of my hands. Gio holds up the jacket for me. Patiently waiting for me to slide my arms in the sleeves. Flaming the argument between my head and my heart from his attentiveness and gentle manners. Just like he usedto.
"Looks like you had a goodtime."
"I did. It was fun to see the kids soexcited."
I fiddle with my gloves while we walk, trying to prevent him from taking my hand. Total fail with that ploy when his arm wraps around my waist and he tucks me against him. Just like he usedto.
At the car, his protective grip remains on my elbow as I climb inside the passenger seat. My pulse races in my veins when he caresses my cheek after I buckle my seat belt. Just like he usedto.
Disappointment darkens his expression when I shrink away from his touch. That was the past. I can't get hung up on what he used to do. I must focus on now. Our relationship, if I can even call the terse dance flinging us together and ripping us apart a relationship, is much too precarious to assume it will continue to exist. Even a few minutes fromnow.
Especially with the decision Imade.
