Page 15 of Christmas Eve Do-Over
Stay (I Missed You)- Lisa Loeb and Nine Stories
Endless Love- Luther Vandross and Mariah Carey
You're Still the One- Shania Twain
I Will Always Love You- Whitney Houston
One right after another, the songs played, showing the teenage progression of our relationship, our grown-up love, our breakup, and then his current feelings, all there for my ears to hear and my heart to feel. As the final note of Whitney Houston's song ended, I had tears streaming down my face. The ache in my chest had exploded out to every part of me, bringing up old emotions and making them sharp again. I grieved for the love experienced and tossed aside; the dreams shattered and long dead.
There I sat in the dark for quite a while, the silence only split by my occasional sobs and the blowing of my nose. I hadn't allowed myself to think about those tough years in a long time. Seeing Duke again had brought that all to the surface, the playlist tearing down the walls around my heart with each beat of the songs, each lyric pierced right through my defenses.
But I'd learned that tears were therapy, and as they fled down my cheeks, so too did my fears and grief. When I blew my nose for the last time, I felt twenty pounds lighter and one hundred percent clearer.
I opened my wine, poured a glass, sat on my couch, and listened to the playlist again. This time, the shadows of my past didn't cast their darkness over what I heard. This time I could listen to the lyrics and focus solely on Duke. Focus on this simple gift that spoke volumes.
The boy had made me a mixed tape, y’all.
* * *
I woke to a loud ringing and swollen eyes. Between crying and the wine, a girl was bound to wake up feeling like she'd been run over by a truck. I wasn't twenty anymore that was for sure.
I stumbled to my phone out on the couch where I'd left it last night after the music fest.
"Hello?" I rubbed my eyes and yawned.
"Shasta? You okay?" Esa's voice sounded concerned.
"Yeah, I'm fine. What's up?" The fog was quickly receding. Why was Esa calling so early? That was unlike her, which had me worried.
"A bunch of us are going down to the foster center today. Kinda last minute but they needed some volunteers and how can you say no to foster kids over Christmas break, right? Wanna come?"
I ran through my calendar in my head, coming up empty. "Sure, give me a bit to get ready and I'll meet you there."
"Awesome, okay, bye!" Esa hung up, and I stared at my phone.
That girl was getting weirder by the day. Her wedding was in exactly five days and she was off volunteering at the foster center. I shrugged, happy she at least wasn't a Bridezilla. Weird, I could deal with. Total diva? Oh, hell no.
After showering, dressing, putting Visine in my eyes to cover the crying, and grabbing an apple for breakfast, I made it to the foster center to find Esa, Brinley, Bailey, and Sage already helping with laundry, packing food, and playing games with the kids. I jumped in, all too glad to get my mind off Duke.
"Hey, isn't that a picture of Foxy?" Bailey was pointing to a picture over on the wall in the main lobby area, which we could see from the room we were in, helping to take down Christmas decorations. I was neck deep in tinsel, the tiny little ribbons tickling my nose and sticking to every surface. It was enough to make me wish California would outlaw that crap instead of straws.
The girls rushed over to take a peek while I tried to retrieve my stomach out of my shoes where it had dropped at the mention of his nickname. And speaking of which why were they still calling him Foxy? Sweet nicknames were strictly for men we were dating and I, sure as tinsel would never be on one of my Christmas trees, was not dating Duke.
"Look at this, Shasta!" Sage waved me over with more enthusiasm than if we were meeting Santa himself. I rolled my eyes, even though I had no audience to appreciate my attitude, and attempted to disentangle from the tinsel.
I made my way over right as a young man with the Orangewood logo on his polo came up to the girls and started sharing the history of the foster center.
"We opened in 1981 and have developed the center you see here today from generous donations from citizens concerned with the welfare of our foster kids. That picture is of Duke Reynolds, the benefactor and creator of The Lighthouse program. That particular program is to help sex-trafficking victims escape that life and create a new and brighter future for themselves."
My jaw dropped. Did I hear him correctly?
"Hold up. Did you say Duke Reynolds started the program?" I tried to speak over the ringing in my ears.
The kid's head bobbled up and down, his eyes lit with excitement. "Yes, Mr. Reynolds is a big celebrity around here. He's actually a lifeguard, and a highly decorated one at that, but he donated almost the full amount to start this program and then worked one-on-one with our staff to create the process, curriculum, and even opened the lines of communication with the police department to target at-risk teens."
I opened my mouth to ask more questions, but nothing came out.
Brinley elbowed me and I shut my mouth with an audible click of my teeth.
