Take Me Home for Christmas

28

Before he’d started sleeping with Eve.

Ted understood what she meant. Essentially, he’d cost Sophia her only friend. Although he hadn’t recognized that until tonight—hadn’t even thought about it that way—she was right. Before Halloween, Eve had been all about helping Sophia. After he took Eve to bed, that changed. Eve hadn’t been unfriendly. She hadn’t even said anything bad about Sophia. But she’d stopped reaching out to her.

“Damn,” he said with a sigh. As much as Eve and his other friends teased him for being ambitious and organized and having his shit together, he’d taken a wrong turn last month. The only thing he’d succeeded in doing was making life harder, for himself and both women. He still had to face his feelings for Sophia. The past four weeks with Eve had done nothing to change that.

And getting together with Eve hadn’t been his only mistake. He remembered saying, when Skip’s body washed up on the shores of Brazil, that Sophia would solve her problems by hooking up with another guy who had the money to bail her out of the mess she was in. But he’d seen no evidence of that. She hadn’t been out partying. She hadn’t brought anyone home. She didn’t have access to the internet in the guesthouse, so she wasn’t cruising the dating sites.

He liked what he saw in her, despite her problems. She’d proven herself to be a loving mother. She did her best to earn what he paid her, even if it meant staying late. And she never took advantage of what he was willing to do for her. He was impressed whenever he found a receipt with $3.58 on the counter or some other odd amount that showed him how hard she was trying to be honest. Those were traits anyone should be able to admire.

Ted didn’t tell her he and Eve had broken up, but Sophia soon figured it out. It was sort of obvious when Eve didn’t come over for the next three weeks. It became even more obvious when he had Sophia and Alexa decorate his Christmas tree, do the Christmas shopping for his business contacts and eat dinner with him instead of carrying their meals out to the guesthouse.

Even if all of that hadn’t given it away, she would’ve realized they were no longer seeing each other on the eighteenth, when she overheard him arguing with his mother. Mrs. Dixon must’ve told him he was making a big mistake letting Eve go because he responded with comments like, “I love her, too. Just not in that way.” And, “It’s my life. I have to trust my own judgment.”

As conspicuous as Eve’s sudden absence was, Sophia never mentioned it, and she told Alexa not to say anything, either. She thought that if he wanted to talk about his love life, he’d bring it up—but he didn’t, so she focused on her job, taking care of her daughter, practicing her typing and handling as many errands as possible so Ted could finish his book.

He was working hard, spending long days at the computer, but he found time to drive her to an AA meeting every other night. He also helped her negotiate with a bankruptcy attorney, whom she put on retainer with the small amount she managed to save so far, which stopped Skip’s creditors from hounding her. And because she hadn’t been able to find a car, the weekend before Christmas he took her to Sacramento to shop for one. Alexa had been planning to come with them but she’d made friends with a whole new group of girls and stayed behind when she got the opportunity to go on a two-day snowmobile trip.

“How come you haven’t asked me about Eve?” Ted wanted to know as they drove.

Sophia shifted in the confines of her seat belt. “I figured it wasn’t my place.”

“I see.”

“Is she okay, though? With how things turned out?” She’d considered calling but was afraid Eve would misinterpret the gesture. Sophia didn’t want her to think she was secretly celebrating—or had been rooting against her from the beginning.

Sophia did, however, feel a certain amount of relief....

“Eve’s a great person,” he said. “She’ll be fine.”

“And the rest of the gang? What do they have to say about it?”

“Fortunately, not too much. It’s a bit...uncomfortable when we go to coffee. She’s not really speaking to me yet, which is hard. But we’re trying not to let what happened ruin our friendship or the chemistry of the group.”

“Are you sure you won’t regret breaking up with her? I mean...who wouldn’t want a girlfriend like Eve?” As far as Sophia was concerned, Eve had it all—looks, personality and character.

“What makes you think I broke it off?”

She was territorial enough to have kept a close watch. But she couldn’t admit that. “I saw the way she looked at you.”

He glanced over at her. “I feel bad enough, okay?”

She pulled her own gaze back to the road before he could realize that she looked at him the same way. “Just being honest.”

“It was a mistake to try to make more of our relationship. I shouldn’t have started it to begin with.”

If Eve couldn’t win Ted’s heart, who could? Certainly she had no chance, which was why she’d been careful to keep their conversations and interaction so impersonal the past few weeks. She couldn’t afford to get her hopes up just because Eve was out of the picture. Who’d want the town pariah?

Her alcoholism would scare Ted away before he even had a chance to worry about the rest of her problems. How could someone who made so few mistakes ever sympathize with someone who made so many?

He turned down the volume on the radio. “Kyle said he gave you a call this week.”

She pretended to be absorbed in the scenery flying past her window. “He did.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“He said he invited you to his company Christmas party last Thursday. He thought it might be nice for you to get out and enjoy yourself, enjoy the season.”

“I couldn’t go,” she said. “Alexa had a math test the next day. I was helping her study.”

“Is that the one she aced?”

The memory of that fat red A at the top of her daughter’s paper brought Sophia a great deal of relief and pleasure. Alexa’s schoolwork required a lot more effort than it used to, probably because neither one of them had any emotional reserves. But the effort was paying off. Her daughter was doing much better. If she kept it up, there’d be no danger of her flunking seventh grade. “That’s the one.”

Ted had been so pleased when she showed it to him that he’d insisted on taking them out for ice cream and posting her test on his fridge.

“Okay, that explains why you refused Kyle,” he said. “What about Riley?”

“He told you he called me, too?”

“He mentioned it in passing.” He turned to glance at her. “He also mentioned that you said you had to work. He thought I was being an ogre.”

“He wanted to go to the Victorian Christmas Celebration tonight.”

“And you didn’t?”

“It’s not that, it’s just...it makes no sense to ask me to something so...public. Why would anyone want to be seen with me?”

“I’m sure he knew your situation before he asked, Sophia.”

“He only understands part of my situation.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He doesn’t know about my drinking problem. And I don’t want to tell him. I’d rather your friends think highly of me—well, as highly as they can, considering that most of my shortcomings are common knowledge.”

“You’re saying you’re not going to date anybody?”

“Not in Whiskey Creek.”

“Other alcoholics date and marry.”

“I wouldn’t risk letting someone fall in love with me if they didn’t know, and what’s the point of telling if I’ll be leaving soon?” Even if she wasn’t planning to leave, she wouldn’t date the guys Ted hung out with. She found Riley more handsome than Kyle, but she knew there were women who’d claim the opposite. Handsome didn’t matter. And it didn’t matter that they were nice. A relationship with either one wouldn’t end well, because she was in love with someone else. That was the mistake she’d made when she’d gone out with Skip—she’d gotten involved with a man who, in her mind and in her heart, couldn’t compare to Ted.

She’d been trapped for nearly fourteen years thanks to that poor choice.

“All you do is hang around the house when you’re off,” he said. “You might want to get out and have some fun once in a while.”

“It wouldn’t be fair to waste their time or money.” She’d been so engrossed in the conversation that she hadn’t been paying attention to where they were going. When Ted had exited the freeway, she assumed he was heading to Fulton Avenue and all the car dealerships along that street. But this didn’t look like...

Wait a minute! They were right by the hospital where her mother was institutionalized....

“Where are we going?” she asked.

At the alarm in her voice, he said, “It’s okay. I thought we could stop by and check on your mother, maybe drop off a little gift. And if you’re feeling up to it, we can visit her for a few minutes. But only if you’re feeling up to it.”

Sophia’s heart began to pound. It was difficult to come here, to see her mother in this setting. Elaine was so far from the woman she’d once been. To make matters worse, Sophia feared the same type of mental illness could overtake her and she’d be facing a similar future. The memories of how disjointed and upsetting their conversation on Thanksgiving had been made her anxiety that much more intense.

But when she looked at Ted, he said, “I’ll be right there beside you,” and somehow that gave her the courage to buy a poinsettia and some chocolates and carry them through those doors.

The visit with Sophia’s mother proved every bit as painful as Ted had feared. While they were there, she had almost no lucid moments. She didn’t seem to care that she had visitors, probably because she didn’t recognize them. She rambled incessantly about all kinds of things, including her underwear, which embarrassed Sophia and filled Ted’s mind with images he didn’t want to see. She tried to eat the poinsettia and ignored the chocolates, despite the fact that she was obsessed with the vending machine, specifically the candy bars it held. Sophia kept giving her dollar bills so she could slide them into the “magic slot,” as she called it. She ate four of the same kind of candy bar inside twenty minutes.

Before long, Ted was kicking himself for bringing Sophia to the hospital. When the idea first occurred to him, he’d been hoping for one special moment, one glimmer of reassurance or love from mother to daughter. He knew what it would mean to a woman who’d lost as much as Sophia. But now he thought they’d to have to leave without that—especially as Elaine’s behavior became increasingly erratic and the nurses checked in every few minutes, as if they were concerned about where it might lead.

“She can become violent,” one gently warned. “It doesn’t happen often, but you should be prepared.”

When Sophia had to use the restroom and left Ted alone with Elaine, he couldn’t quit squirming in his seat. He’d assumed he could handle this, that his calm would help Sophia cope. But he was pretty sure he found Elaine’s condition as upsetting as Sophia did. He tried to talk to her, to tell her what Skip had done and how badly her daughter needed some kind word, but she wasn’t paying attention. She kept rocking back and forth and babbling nonsense. Then she got up, returned to the vending machine and started shaking it.

She seemed to forget he was even there, but he cleared his throat, reminding her, and she came back to the table.

“Money!” she demanded.

Ted didn’t mind giving her a few bucks, but he worried about letting her eat so much candy at one time. He was afraid it would make her sick. What if she discovered that the chocolates they’d brought were just as delicious as the candy she was getting out of that machine? She’d eat the whole pound on top of what she’d already had.

“Tell you what,” he said. “If, when Sophia comes back, you’ll give her a hug and tell her you love her, I’ll leave enough money that you can buy a treat every day for a long time.”

“Money!” she demanded, as if he hadn’t just stated his terms.

“Did you hear me?” he said. “Will you do it? I know you can do it.” He actually didn’t know that, but he was hoping to encourage her. Of all the things he could give Sophia, for Christmas or otherwise, he thought this would mean the most.

Her dark eyes studied him as if he was a creature she’d never encountered before. “Who are you?”

“Ted Dixon.”

“Are you here to kill me?” she asked.

“Definitely not.”

“You look mean.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Why are you here?”

“I came with your daughter. We used to date. You don’t remember?”

“I don’t have a daughter,” she said as if she was tired of hearing otherwise and didn’t want one, regardless.

He had to wonder if she’d convinced herself that Sophia didn’t exist because it eased the pain of those moments when she came back to “herself” and remembered everything she’d lost. Or if she really believed, consistently, that she was childless. Maybe it would be just as difficult for Sophia, possibly more difficult, if Elaine remembered and begged to be released from the facility. He winced when he considered how helpless he’d feel if it was his mother in here.

“You do,” he insisted. “Her name is Sophia.”

“I like that name,” she said.

The door opened as Sophia returned, and he shoved the See’s Candies toward Elaine to distract her. He didn’t want her to say anything else about not having a daughter—or that she liked Sophia’s name as if she’d never heard it before. “Maybe you’d enjoy one of these.”

She knocked the box aside—almost onto the floor—and cast a longing glance at the vending machine. That was when Ted decided it was time to give up. He’d done what he could. This was heartbreaking to watch; he couldn’t imagine what it was doing to Sophia. He’d meant to help, but he was afraid he’d done the opposite. He hoped it wouldn’t send her back into a tailspin.

“We’d better get going or we’ll run out of time to find you a car,” he told her.

He was planning to take her to an AA meeting before they went home, but when he put a hand at her back to propel her from the room, her mother stood up and said, “Don’t go!”

The panic in her voice took them both by surprise.

“Mom?” Sophia’s eyes were wide and wary.

Nervous as to how Elaine might answer, Ted caught and held his breath. He held on to Sophia, too.

“I love you,” Elaine said, then she looked to him for approval. It wasn’t a perfect rendition of what he’d requested. There’d been less emotion in “I love you” than there’d been in “Don’t go,” and no hug, but Ted guessed Sophia hadn’t heard those three words from her mother in a long, long time.

“I love you, too,” she whispered.

Fortunately, the moment Sophia choked up, Elaine seemed to understand that the correct reaction to tears would be tenderness. Her expression softened and a vague smile claimed her lips. It was just normal-looking enough to encourage Sophia to step forward and embrace her.

Elaine didn’t do much to respond, but she didn’t try to break Sophia’s hold, either. She seemed confused.

Taking Sophia’s hand, Ted led her out of the room, and he was glad he had. As they left, he could hear Elaine yelling for money, but Sophia was so overcome with what’d just happened that she didn’t seem to put two and two together. He walked her to the car before saying he thought he’d dropped his keys and headed back.

Elaine was so upset, the nurses were having to restrain her, but the second he walked back in and held up the money he’d promised, she calmed down.

“Thank you,” he told her and put the hundred in her hand. “See that she gets a candy bar of her choosing every day for as long as this lasts, okay? And let her get it out of the vending machine herself.”

“It’ll rot her teeth,” one of the nurses said, but what else did she have to enjoy in life?

“She earned it,” he said. “Merry Christmas, Elaine. You did a wonderful thing a second ago. I appreciate it.”

“I love you,” she shouted after him as if that might bring more money, and he had to chuckle.