Page 84 of Tacos & Toboggans
Tomorrow night was Christmas Eve, which meant Major was off for the night and all day on Christmas. I was looking forward to introducing him to the traditions of Bells Pass, including the event in the park tomorrow night and the community center dinner on Christmas Day. Yesterday, we wrapped up the final Saturday family day at the farm. Although it was still open for people to pick up trees until noon tomorrow, the school-to-work kids were on hiatus until the school year starts again in January. I finally had a few days off, which gave me time to finish Major’s present. The trick was doing it when he wasn’t around, so I had taken everything to Ivy’s house. I was headed there now to finish it.
Walking down the hallway, I straightened a picture that we’d hung a few days ago. It was of me and Yaya Riba when I was about twelve. I don’t know what we were baking, but there was flour everywhere, including on us, but the smiles we aimed at the camera said we’d never been happier. That was just one of the pictures Major had found when we emptied the storage unit. That had been a day-long ordeal, and I was gladit was over; however, it was nice to have all my personal items here now, instead of just a few outfits. I even had a dress picked out to wear for Christmas Day, and when Major saw it hanging in the closet, well, let’s just say he gave me a sneak peek of what we’d be doing after the community Christmas dinner.
Before I could leave, I had to grab one more thing from the office. Major was headed to the hospital to complete some paperwork, as I’d lied and said I had a meeting with Ivy for a few hours this morning. Little white lies don’t hurt when they make the other person happy, but I can’t get behind the big lies that hurt people. Besides, I’d come clean about this one on Christmas morning.
I flipped the light on in the office and grabbed my satchel from the desk, swinging it down and accidentally knocking papers off Major’s desk. “Nice work, clumsy,” I muttered, bending and picking up the papers to set them back on his desk. I noticed one had fallen behind it. After contorting myself into an ungodly position, I finally managed to grab it and pull it out. Two words caught my attention.
“Hey, you’re going to be late.”
I glanced up to see Major in the doorway. “You have a kid?”
He stalked into the room and snatched the paper from my hand. “Why are you snooping in my things?”
“I wasn’t,” I said, defensiveness clear in my tone. “My satchel knocked some papers off your desk. I was picking them up.”
“Stay out of my things. I didn’t give you permission to mess with my stuff. I thought you’d be considerate of my privacy.”
“I wasn’t snooping around in your things!” I exclaimed, ice filling my veins at his accusations. “What I hear you saying is I can live here, but you’re not going to be open about your life. Well, guess what? I’m not okay with that.”
“Too damn bad,” he ground out. “My past doesn’t pertain to you. It stays in the past!”
“Wow,” I said on a breath. “That’s…wow. Okay, noted.”
I darted around him and walked out of the office. He didn’t call me back. He didn’t chase me down. I walked out the back door, climbed into my car, and with tears threatening to fall, drove away. I couldn’t go to Ivy’s now with tears on my cheeks and the end of my relationship in sight. Not when the whole point of going there was to finish his Christmas gift. I drove aimlessly, the words on that piece of paper bold in my mind’s eye.
PATERNITY CASE.
CHILD SUPPORT.
DAUGHTER.
He had a daughter and was paying child support, yet he never mentioned it. How had I been so wrong about him? He was the one who insisted on honesty and openness about our lives and struggles. Then I remembered how he kept the fact that he was an amputee from me for over a month. He said it was because he was afraid of losing me when I found out, but now I had to wonder. What if he was nothing more than a habitual liar who exploited his good looks and intelligence to manipulate others for his benefit? It wouldn’t be the first time someone did that, but to lie about your kid? That’s low, especially when you’re talking forever with someone. I was going to find out eventually.
Realizing I was only a few miles from Evergreen Acres, I turned and followed the road to the parking area. I wasn’t prepared for the weather, but a short walk in the trees wouldn’t hurt anything. Hopefully, it would clear my head so I could go back and pick up my things. At least enough to get me by until I could load up the rest and find another storage unit. Dumping my head back on the seat, I sighed while fighting back tears. I’d already told Hazel I wouldn’t need the apartment. Maybe it wasn’t too late. I’d text her once my head was clearer and tell her I wanted to put down a security deposit on it immediately. In the meantime, I’d stay with Ivy.
Grabbing my phone, I texted Ivy that I was running late and would stop over later to explain. Her reply was simple,'okay…'but the ellipses at the end told me she suspected something was amiss. Rather than being tempted to respond, I put the phone in my pocket and grabbed my spare hat andgloves from the back seat, before I climbed out and headed for the path. The farm was busy, which meant no one would notice me if I didn’t run into Cameron helping people with trees. I smiled and waved at people as though it were any other day, when really, I was dying inside. My life had come crashing down around my ears again because I trusted someone. How could I be so naive?
The sleigh had packed down a path through the snow to the big tree at the back of the property. My watch said they wouldn’t start the rides for another hour, so I followed the trail to the clearing. Once there, the true scope of the storm was evident when the snow brushed the bottom of the branches of the big tree. I gazed upward as tears streamed down my cheeks at the unfairness of it all. Just when I thought I’d found happiness, it was ripped away in the blink of an eye. I should have known better!
My phone beeped, and assuming it was Ivy, I pulled it out, only to see a text from Major.
Baby doll, I’m sorry. Please come home so we can talk. Ivy said you aren’t with her. Now I’m scared. My PTSD reared its ugly head. That sounds like an excuse for bad behavior, but all I remember is noise in my head, and then you were gone. I don’t have a daughter. Please, come home. I’ll explain everything.
I dropped my hand to my side, forcing myself to stay angry. He was using PTSD to excuse bad behavior, no matter how he spun it. I hated that my brain tacked on ‘right?’ to that sentence. Admittedly, I didn’t understand all the intricacies of PTSD, but I had some experience with it, being friends with Becca. Once, when someone took their phone out to take a picture of their food, Becca ran two blocks down the street to get away from it. By the time I’d reached her, she didn’t remember how she’d gotten there or why she wasn’t at the diner.
With a groan, I tipped my head back to the sky, hoping for divine intervention, but all I got was a sharp pain in my side and then blackness.
I pounded on the door of Ivy’s house. “Ivy!”
The door flew open, and she stood there with one brow up. “Can I help you, Dr. Warren?”
Something told me my girl had already filled her boss in on the situation. “Is Jaelyn here? I don’t see her car, but I need to talk to her.”
“She’s not. She texted me about thirty minutes ago that she was running late and would explain later.”
“We have to find her,” I moaned, running a hand through my hair in frustration.
“Come in,” she said, holding the door while I stepped inside. When she closed the door, I leaned against it and banged my head in frustration. “You fought.”
