Abandon

Chapter Nineteen

Our last five days of recording go smoothly. We wrap up the Friday before Christmas and return to my house to celebrate. I’m not surprised to find Senia and Claire already hanging out in the kitchen. As Chris, Claire, Jake, and Rachel discuss Jake and Rachel’s wedding in the kitchen, I invite Senia into the living room to watch some TV. The Science Channel is showing a special on black holes and Senia quietly takes a seat next to me on the sofa to watch.

I’m not really watching the show. I keep stealing glances at the smooth skin on her legs and the way she subconsciously lays her hand protectively over her belly. I want to move her hand so I can place my hand there, but I’m pretty sure she’s not far along enough for the baby to kick. But how awesome will it be to feel my little guy inside of her.

Once Jake and Rachel go through my last five beers as she attempts to beat him at a beer-guzzling contest, Chris and Claire offer to go and pick up some more.

“I’ve got more in the fridge in the guest house. Come on. I’ll show you,” I say to Chris and he shrugs as he follows me outside.

I don’t really need to show him where I keep the beer in the pool house and he knows that. I just need to talk to him.

After some small talk about whether our manager, Xander, is going to call us back to re-record something, I unlock the door to the guest house and turn on the lights. Chris heads straight for the refrigerator of the studio and I wait by the front door.

“I don’t know what to get Senia for Christmas.”

Chris glances at me over his shoulder as he grabs two six-packs of Sam Adams out of the fridge. “You haven’t done that yet?”

“Hey, I’m not Mr. Monogamy like you. I don’t know how to do this shit.”

“So you’re not fucking anyone else?” he asks as he makes his way out of the kitchenette.

He pushes a six-pack into my chest and I contemplate this question. I haven’t fucked anyone since Chrissy on Thanksgiving. Well, unless you count the girl who worked at the grocery store that I hooked up with a few days ago, whatever her name was. She ran out to give me one of the bottles of Gatorade I dropped in the store and, one thing led to another, but Senia and I haven’t had sex since Yogurtland last month. It’s a poor excuse for a terrible wrong, not at all made right by the fact that Senia and I aren’t actually a couple yet, or the sickening regret that kept me awake that night.

Fuck. I’m such an asshole.

“No. I’m not fucking anyone else.” From here on out.

Chris looks skeptical as we make our way past the pool toward the patio. “Then bare your fucking soul. Give her something that will only mean something to the two of you.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“You’ll figure it out.”

Senia and I arrive at Grandma’s house a little before noon on Christmas Day. Senia insists we need to arrive early so she can help Grandma cook. Since she had to lie to her family and say she was spending Christmas with Chris and Claire, I have to do as she says. Besides, it’s kind of cool to watch her and Grandma laughing as they chop onions while I imagine the beat of my baby’s heart as the background music.

When the food is simmering, Senia sends Grandma out of the kitchen to get some rest and calls me in to replace her. The sight of her in one of Grandma’s aprons is weird, but strangely sexy.

“Can you set the table? We need plates and silverware, and bowls for the pumpkin soup.”

“Pumpkin soup?” I say, coming up behind her as she stirs the soup on the stove. She pushes my left hand away, but I reach forward and slide my right hand over her abdomen. “You can’t stand in my grandmother’s kitchen, in that apron, barking orders at me, carrying my child, and not expect me to want to touch you. You can’t expect me to not feel like I have some … claim on you.”

She lets out a deep sigh as I press my chest against her back. “Tristan …” Her voice is breathy and full of longing. “Please don’t say stuff like that. It makes me want to either punch you or tear off your clothes. And I can’t tell which one I want to do more.”

I slide my hand down and she freezes, but I quickly pull my hand back. “I guess we’ll find out soon.”

Grandma Flo makes us give thanks before we eat, the way she always does before every Christmas and Thanksgiving dinner, and Senia seems to be a pro at it.

“Thank you for the food and for inviting me into your home.” She turns to Molly and they both smile. “Thank you for reminding me how much I never want to get drunk again. There are better ways to get wild. Trust me.” She winks at Molly and I shake my head. “Thank you, Mrs. Pollock, for giving me a place to celebrate Christmas – somewhere I can be myself.” Grandma smiles a crooked smile that seems to be masking whatever anguish, emotional or physical, she is feeling. “Tristan,” Senia begins as she turns to me. She opens her mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

“What?” I prompt her, but she closes her mouth and eyes and doesn’t speak.

When she opens her eyes, I expect her to be crying. She seems to cry at the drop of a hat these days with all those hormones coursing through her. “Excuse me,” she whispers as she rises from her chair and heads for the front door.

I follow after her and she stands on the porch steps where I just finished clearing the snow an hour ago, waiting for something. “What’s wrong?” She shakes her head and I step down onto the step below her so we’re almost eye-level. “Talk to me.”

“I’ve just never spent Christmas without my family.”

“I’ll take you there. You don’t have to stay here.”

“No, I have my car. If I wanted to leave, I’d go. You know that.”

“Is that why you brought your car?” I ask. “I thought you brought it so you could stop by your parents’ house and say hi to your family.”

“That is why I brought it … I …”

“I don’t understand. If you want to be here, why are you upset?”

She steps sideways so our faces aren’t so close and a thick cloud of steam escapes her mouth as she lets out a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter. I just need a minute. I’ll come back inside soon.”

I wait a moment for her to change her mind and tell me she’s coming inside, but she doesn’t. “It’s cold. Don’t stay out here too long.”

She closes her eyes and I take that as my cue to head back in. I leave the front door open and take a seat at the dining table, which, thankfully, still has a view of the front door.

“Where’s Senia?” Molly asks as she sips a glass of cranberry juice.

“She’s just missing her family a little. She’ll be back inside in a couple of minutes.”

But a couple of minutes turns into nearly fifteen minutes and I have to check on her. When I open the door, Senia’s car is gone. My first instinct is to hop into my car and go to her parents’ house, but they don’t know about me yet and I don’t want to cause her any more trouble then she may already be in for not showing up to their Christmas dinner.

I pull my phone out of my pocket. It’s a long-shot, but I have to at least try to call her. Not surprisingly, she doesn’t answer, but I’m not upset because I’ve been a bit of an asshole to her about using her phone while driving. I look up and down the street, foolishly hoping she may have just parked a few houses away to think in the warmth of the car heater, but her car is nowhere. I wait a few minutes, to give her some time to get wherever she’s going, then I begin typing a text message to her.

Me: Where are you?

I hesitate before I hit the send button. This text message sounds demanding. I swallow my pride and type two more words.

Me: Where are you? I’m worried.

I hit send and I get a response a few minutes later, just as Molly comes outside to see what’s going on.

Senia: I’m home. I’m in the study catching up on my homework.

I’m confused. She just said that she was upset because she wasn’t spending Christmas with her family and now she’s gone home – to our home – instead of to her family’s house. Why do women have to be so fucking complicated? I think as I reach into my pocket and grab my keys.

“Can I come with you?” Molly asks.

I smile. “Not this time. I think Senia and I have some stuff to talk about.”

Molly laughs. “You’re whipped.”

“What? I am not whipped.”

“Yeah, you are. But that’s okay. She’s worth it.”

I shake my head as I head for my car. “Tell Grandma she doesn’t need to clean up. I’ll send Lily over tomorrow morning.”

“Don’t be a pussy!” she shouts at me as I slide into the driver’s seat. “Tell her how you feel.”