Page 15 of Mr. Merry Ex-Mas
She doesn’t blink. “Then, what are you doing? You’re either in or out. She doesn’t do well with this in-between stuff. The stuff that isn’t planned or–”
“That's where you’re wrong. It’s where she thrives! The moments that just happen are when she's the most alive. I see it. She loves to correct me and make me walk the line, but when I push her out of her comfort zone, she's loving and soft. She melts into me, letting me guide her. She’s trusting. And she doesn’t look at me like I’m such a fuck up.”
That gets her attention. “You’re not a fuck up. What are you talking about?”
I shake my head and sag against the truck. “I’m happy here, Ky. I love this small town, I love to teach, and I love to go to Big Chowder for drinks.” I let out a breath. “And I loved coming home to Sadie in my bed. Wash, rinse, repeat. Simple and easy.”
“Then what are you doing?” she asks, her voice sharp but not cruel. “You poke at her, tease her, and then drop these little breadcrumbs. Like you want her to remember what it felt like to love you. Is that what this is?”
I shake my head, my voice quieter now. “It’s not aboutmeremembering. It’s about her remembering.” I start talking, letting it all out. “She plans every minute of the day, down to the very second. I can’t do that, but she was helping me. I was better with my teaching plans because she helped me get on a schedule with them. But I was helping her, too. She used to laugh at my dumb jokes instead of rolling her eyes. She was wild, even if it was just for five seconds at a time. She used to say yes to me without needing a spreadsheet.”
Kylie looks at me. “And you think that has something to do with you being a fuck up?”
“With her, I wasn’t such a fuck up because it felt like I was actually helping! She wasliving, Ky. I just want her to remember that version of herself. Even if she doesn’t want me anymore.”
She watches me before asking, “You’re doing all this just so she can find herself again?”
I nod. “I’m doing this because I still love her. I never stopped, actually. And I’m okay if she never says it back as long as she’s happy. Not just checklist-happy.”
Kylie holds her breath, no doubt replaying my admission in her head, before letting out a long sigh. “You’re an idiot.”
“Fair.”
“But maybe not the worst kind.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Are you giving me your blessing?”
“Don’t push her too hard,” she says, turning to go. “She wants to trust you, and I think she still does.”
I nod. “Noted.”
She takes a few steps, then pauses and glances over her shoulder. “Also, for the record? If something goes awry again, clipboardshurtwhen they’re airborne.”
A laugh escapes me. “Noted twice.”
But even after she walks off, I stay, leaning against the truck. Because for all the things I said out loud, there’s one I didn’t. I want her to be happy. But deep down? I want her to be happy with me.
11
SADIE
The bar is loud enough to drown out all the thoughts from the week. Being here was definitely not planned and when I texted my sister and told her to meet me here, she sent back laughing emojis and a gif of a pregnant woman. But then a follow-up text.
Kylie: Glad to see you deviating from the track.
Sitting here alone wasn't on my list of things to do today, but I needed a breather.
We had another rehearsal for the Christmas gala, but halfway through, I noticed one of the kids and Danny were both missing from the lineup. I scanned the room, then walked out into the hallway, looking for them. I spotted Danny crouched down, talking to a figure crumpled against the lockers, his body hiccupping with a few sobs. I looked at the ground and saw two of the mistletoe balls broken at the boy’s feet.
"Hey, buddy. It’s fine, you're not in trouble," Danny said, his voice low and even-toned for only the two of them to hear. He was kneeling, so they were on the same level, keepingsome distance between them. The boy, whom I recognized as beingin Danny’s class, slowly let his breath even out as he stopped crying. “It’s okay to feel big feelings. I’m right here with you.”
I froze mid-step and watched the interaction. The safe space Danny gave the boy was different from his usual fun, loud “I’m everyone's friend” vibe he usually gave off. He stayed with the boy, waiting until he calmed down, picking up the pieces of the broken ornaments.
Something shifted inside me because I've seen this same interaction with me. The calm breathing tactics that I didn't realize he was doing until after I had gotten over the anxiety that crept in. I’ve seen others try this, but they always rushed in too fast. Danny didn’t rush in and fix; he stayed patient, and that was everything.
The bartender refills my drink, and I sit back, glancing around the place, which is decorated for Christmas. The lights are strung, stockings dangle, and red and green plastic flowers decorate the tables. I think about how much I love it here in Starlight Bay, especially during Christmas, when the front door opens. I feel him before I even see him.
Danny walks in, and he takes up all the air in the place. He has such an easy way about him, and people gravitate toward him. He’s a likable, fun guy. He says hello to a couple, then scans the room, and our eyes meet. I can’t even pull out my phone fast enough to text my sister. I’m wondering if she told him I was here alone.
