After losing her job and her girlfriend, it's time for Annie Abraham to admit defeat and move back in with her parents. She has hardly been back to her tiny Montana hometown since the unforgettable summer before her senior year of college, when she...
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There's a live band playing at Deer & Pine on Friday evening, a local four-piece of a pianist, a saxophonist, a double bassist and a drummer playing smooth jazz renditions of classic Christmas songs. I don't usually like live music, too loud and unpredictable and overstimulating, but this is the opposite. It's romantic and relaxing and unobtrusive, the perfect background to my date with Annie.
I haven't seen her since I left for work yesterday morning, after we spent the entire night before wearing each other out the way we used to. She spent last night with her parents and I spent it with Ava, the way so many of my nights are spent, and yet I felt so much lonelier than I used to. I couldn't decide what to do once I finished wrapping the kids' presents, whether to read or watch TV, so I ended up doing neither and wasted the evening wafting around because what I really wanted was Annie.
She has wormed her way under my skin like a splinter that's too deep to remove, a tiny sliver of glass that my body will have to absorb. It scares me, how much I care. How much I yearn for her. How much of my heart I have placed in her hands, how big a space I've made for her in mine.
"Three more days til Christmas," Annie says when she returns from the bar with a couple of glasses of wine. We have the cozy table by the fireplace again, tucked away out of sight of the band, our own private corner of the bar.
"Which means one more day until dinner with your family," I say, clinking my glass against hers and taking a sip of ice cold wine. When I took my anxiety medication today, I made sure I have enough for a double dose tomorrow. I know my nerves will get the better of me when it comes to meeting Annie's brothers and her brother's girlfriend and sitting down at the table with all of them. It's bound to be overwhelming, though it'll be better than another night of aimlessly wafting around the house.
"It'll be fine," Annie says, scooting her chair in. "You already know my mom and dad, and my brothers are totally harmless."
"So they don't share your sense of humor?"
She beams, showing her teeth. "Unfortunately, no. The funny gene skipped the boys. I must've gotten a triple dose."
"Lucky for me," I say drily. "Tell me about them. Your unfunny brothers. Anything I need to know?"
"Hmm." She taps her bottom lip, drawing my attention to its pink plumpness. Even in the dim lighting in here, she's radiant. She's the moon, reflecting the light of the fire that flickers next to us. "There's nothing to, like, warn you about. They're normal people. They won't try to steal a baby out of your arms or anything."
I laugh, but I have to say, "Hey, we have to give my mother some credit. I don't know what her true motive is, but she's trying."
"I know. Just you wait, your mom and I will be besties before you know it."
"Let's not go that far."
"She won't be able to help it. I'm just too damn likable," Annie says with a long-suffering sigh as she swirls her glass of wine and gazes into my eyes.
