Chapter Ten
Without You
Wednesday, December 19th, 2029 4:15pm
Six days before Christmas, I was sitting in the waiting area of the local physical therapy place, waiting to meet my new physical therapist. Here I was again, back at physical therapy after years of leaving it behind. To say that I was less than thrilled was an understatement. PT followed me like a shadow.
"Ella?"
I looked up from my phone to see a tall, fit gentleman in light green scrubs. I stood up by pushing on my walker. "Hi."
The man held out his hand for me to shake, and I did. He had super short hair and dark brown eyes. "I'm Joshua." He motioned past his shoulder with his hand. "Come on back." I followed Joshua back towards the exam tables surrounded by curtains for privacy. There were several pieces of exercise equipment: three treadmills, two ellipticals, and two recumbent bikes. "Have a seat here." Joshua patted the exam table and I hopped right on it. We began by having a conversation.
"You know I have CP, right?"
A slight smirk tugged on Joshua's lips. "Yes."
"Just checking."
"I have the prescription from Dr. Farrell here," he said, holding it between his fingers. "Strengthening, desensitization…" he nodded, more to himself. "Let's talk about goals."
"OK," I replied.
Joshua shrugged in an airy way. "What're some of your goals after this surgery?"
I laughed, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Well...I'd really like to walk without crutches some day." Saying it aloud was both a relief and a terror all at once.
Joshua nodded, but his face revealed nothing, really. "Alright. We can work on that. What else?"
I cleared my throat. "I think it'd be cool if I was able to walk across the stage without crutches to get my diploma at graduation in June."
This time Joshua's lips curled into a smile. "That's a great goal. I like that." He patted the exam table with his hand and instructed me to lay down. "Why don't we start today with some stretching?" As he stretched me and I breathed through the pain, Joshua looked down at me and spoke. "Now, if you want to accomplish your goals, it's imperative that you do work on your own, too. Stretching, exercising. I'm going to give you a regimen to follow. Coming to PT twice a week for an hour each session is not gonna cut it. I'm no miracle worker."
"OK." I flinched as my legs began to burn. Joshua shook my left leg to relieve the tension, being sure not to press his hand on the new scar on my left ankle–the one Mom said made me look like Frankenstein.
After stretching and ten minutes on the recumbent bike (during which I felt like I was going to pass out), Joshua grabbed the crutches he instructed me to bring from home before our first meeting. I looked at him, raised my eyebrows and nearly laughed in disbelief. "You want me to use the crutches now?" I hadn't used the crutches or even so much as looked at them since before the surgery back in August.
"Yes," Joshua answered, his reply short and curt. "The walker has got to go."
I motioned to my pair of black forearm crutches. "I was kinda hoping we could skip those."
Joshua stared at me and began to smirk again. "You want to go from using the walker to using nothing?"
"Yes," I said, suddenly small.
Joshua laughed lightly. "Ella." He patted his chest with his palm. "I'm good, but I'm not that good." He handed me the crutches, and I had no choice but to take them. I eased one arm through each crutch, grabbed the handles, and pushed to stand. "Good. Now try to walk across that blue tape." He pointed to the blue tape he had placed strategically on the ground minutes before. In reality the tape was only about five to seven feet from where I stood, but it seemed like miles and miles.
"How?" I asked, panic rising on my voice at all the open space in front of me.
Joshua stood next to me with his arms out, protecting me. "Same way as always. You can do it. Trust yourself."
I moved my right leg simultaneously with the left crutch just like I was taught to do way back when I was eight years old. Right away I felt unsteady and unbalanced. I began to tremble, and Joshua noticed.
"Keep going."
I shut my eyes, moved my left leg with my right crutch, my legs shaking like mad. I whimpered and knew that nobody, including Joshua, was going to help me. As much as I hated it, I knew that was the way it had to be.
"Come on," Joshua said, his voice stern and void of any sympathy. "Push through the fear, Ella, and trust yourself. Come on, push!"
"I can't," I said, and tears stung my eyes. I felt like I was going to fall, my hands beginning to shake. "Can we stop? I'm not strong enough."
"You are strong enough. It's all in your head. You gotta push through." He pointed to the floor. "Across the blue tape, let's go."
I gritted my teeth and felt like punching my new physical therapist in the face. But I wasn't going to. Instead I willed my legs to move, with my feet dragging across the floor.
Of course, Joshua caught it. "Don't drag." He watched me intently, and I was driven by the desire to not disappoint him, even though I was upset. Several steps and deep breaths later, and I had used my crutches to walk across the blue tape. I exhaled and slouched, and Joshua put his large hand on my arm. "Good job. Have a seat there; I'll get you some water."
I sank into the chair in complete relief. I practically threw the crutches onto the floor in distaste. Those goddamn bastards. Here I naively thought I could get rid of them so fast. Nope.
Joshua merely side stepped the crutches and handed me a paper cup filled in water. "I hate to be a cliché, but anger is motivation." I drained the water down my throat in two gulps. Joshua sat down on a rolling stool in front of me. "I want you using the crutches from now on, OK?"
I took a deep breath and nodded. "Whatever you say."
"Your body's just not used to them right now. You'll adjust the more you use them. But no more walker. Actually, I'm gonna keep it here."
"You are?"
"I am." He stood up. "Come on, let's walk to the leg press," he motioned to the machine in the corner. "That's one of the machines I want you using on your own. Are you a member of any gym?"
"No. I mostly just go to the gym at my uncle's house."
Joshua stared at me. "Your uncle has a gym in his house?"
"Yes," I answered, quite stiff. Uncle Nathan and my parents weren't too keen on everybody knowing I was directly related to a rich basketball legend. Not that Uncle Nathan was ashamed of me or anything like that. I think they just wanted to protect me from the evils of fame, that's all. Gaining friends for the wrong reasons, that type of thing. Anyway, I was sure to keep the fact that Uncle Nathan was impossibly rich on the down low.
"Alright then. Are you close to your uncle?"
"Very."
"Perfect."
I sat on the leg press and under Joshua's supervision pushed about 40 pounds of weight. Afterwards, we outlined my stretching and exercise regimen, and I was left to wait for my mom to pick me up in the waiting area. Once I sat in the passenger's seat of the Comet, aches rose up from everywhere. "How do you feel, baby?" Mom asked.
"I'm exhausted," I said, leaned my head back on the seat.
"Was it a good distraction?"
I gave her a look. " I really don't wanna talk about that right now. I stopped crying just enough to suffer through physical therapy."
"OK," Mom said, keeping it simple. She glanced at me after starting her engine and putting on some mellow music. "Your new physical therapist is hot."
Despite my innate sadness and exhaustion, I cracked a smile. "Oh my God. I knew you were gonna say that!"
"Well he is!" Mom chuckled, and we drove on home. "What's his name?"
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Friday, December 21st, 2029 2:45pm
Four days until Christmas in Tree Hill. My parents had put up a beautiful tree, and almost all the presents were already under it. Stockings hung on the mantel, the house often smelt of eggnog (spiked or otherwise) and freshly baked cookies. We got out early from school as we often do the day right before a holiday vacation. Despite all the Christmas spirit my parents tried so hard to inject and keep alive within the walls of our home, I didn't feel a damn thing.
A cup of chai tea was placed in front of me in a lovely cup of cheer mug that I got for five bucks at Target. It was a rare moment of quiet in our house. Dad was upstairs spending some quality time with the boys, and to relieve Grandma Karen. Mom still was at work. Roslyn had just returned from picking up Grandpa Larry at the senior center, and he had retreated to his room to watch reruns of Judge Judy followed by the live news. So it was just Roslyn and me.
"So," she said. She sat down next to me with her own mug of tea and a few slices of toasted bread. "How are you doing?"
"I'm OK," I answered. I placed my palm on my mug and it was steaming hot.
Roslyn watched me. "You're sad, I've noticed."
I looked at her and nodded my head to avoid crying, though tears filled my eyes. "Mhm."
Roslyn swallowed and removed her glasses. "I remember my first love," she said. She smiled in very much a wistful way. "Those were some beautiful times. And I remember when he broke my heart, all I could do was cry. I couldn't work. Couldn't sleep, or eat. I was so depressed I lost 15 pounds. It was not easy."
The lump in my throat throbbed with the continued threat of tears. "This is my first Christmas without him."
"I know it's really hard, but you still have your family. Your mom, your dad, your brothers, Grandpa Larry! They all love you so much."
I nodded, a few tears slipped down my face. "It's not the same."
"No, it's not," Roslyn agreed. "I understand completely." She got up, and that afternoon was the first time we ever shared a hug.
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By the time Peyton got home, Ella was upstairs listening to music in her room, and Roslyn was on her way out the door. "Have a beautiful holiday," she said, squeezed her arm warmly. "Larry's in his room. Lucas is with the boys upstairs."
"Thank you so much." Peyton gestured to the box of cookies she carried in her hand from the local bakery, with a card taped to the top with Roslyn's name on it. She'd made such a positive impact in such short time, it was the least Peyton could do to give her a little something along with a Christmas card. "These are for you. Merry Christmas!"
Roslyn patted Peyton's arm. "Oh, you didn't have to!" she said, laughed. "Me and my sweet tooth. I guess word got around!"
"Sure did."
"Thank you for this. I'll see you in the new year!"
"Enjoy, drive safe," Peyton said, waved as Roslyn stepped through the door, walked down the driveway, and got in her car. Peyton shut the door, kicked off her heels by the coat rack and sprinted upstairs, happy to be home with her loves.
After saying hello to her father, and after hearing the tunes bleeding through Ella's bedroom door, Peyton headed towards Riley and Miles' bedroom. She stopped in the doorway to see her two sons and her husband sitting on the center rug, books sprawled by their feet. Riley was sitting behind Miles, letting the baby rest on his chest as they flipped through the book.
"Riley, where is the cat?" Lucas asked, as they were looking at The Cat in the Hat.
"There," Riley said, as he pointed to the main character. Miles grabbed onto Riley's little finger, and he giggled.
"Good job, buddy," Lucas said, as he smiled–dimples and all. He looked up and saw Peyton standing there, and his smile only grew. "Hey!"
"MAMA!" Riley hollered, and Miles began to squeal and babble galore.
Peyton gasped, opened her arms and knelt to the floor, still in work attire. She showered her sons in hugs and kisses, saved Lucas for last. "Hi," she breathed, after he kissed her for a good few seconds.
"Did Roslyn like the cookies?"
Peyton laughed lightly. "She did." She inhaled her husband's comforting scent, and then said, "Ella's in her room blasting music again, huh?"
Lucas nodded, exhaled. "Has been for a while. I got her to lower it, and Larry to finally stop hollering about how loud it was–with Roslyn's help. I couldn't wait for you to come home," he admitted. "Not to sound like a failure."
"You're not a failure," Peyton said, her tone serious, caring, sympathetic.
Lucas hung his head back, closed his eyes for a second as she fondled his hair. "I just figured since… you blasted a lot of music in your room at her age, you'd know what to do." He watched her intently. "Then again, you always know what to do," he whispered.
Peyton leaned in and kissed him. "Well, those days are behind me now," she said. Gone were the days where she lost herself in music and her sadness, where she isolated herself, her feelings and her heart. Yet even though she'd been through it, watching Ella go through it hurt her beyond belief–which is why she needed to help her. "I'll be right back."
After changing into comfy clothes, Peyton headed to her daughter's room and knocked on the door.
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Even though I didn't say come on in, my mom came in to the room anyway, saw me laying in bed staring at the ceiling. "Hey you."
"Hi," I said, curled away from the door. Mom came and sat on the bed, lay down next to me.
"Band of Horses," she said, after only listening to the song for a few seconds. She tucked a strand of my wavy hair away from my ear, and bent down to kiss my temple. "Daddy tells me you've been listening to music for a while. How come?"
I swallowed and heard it travel down my throat. "Feel like it."
"You wanna talk?"
I exhaled and sat up with much trouble, faced my mother. "It just...it hurts so bad, Mom. I feel this ache in my chest, and I don't know how to make it go away. When I'm in school, every time I turn a corner I half expect and half dread that he'll run into me. It's like I'm dragging myself through mud when I walk through the hallways. I can't focus. And I think...worst of all...I don't care–about tutoring, about homework, about friends–about any of it. I'm completely numb. I know you might think I'm being dramatic, but I'm not trying to be."
"I know," Mom said, and I saw the tears in her eyes, too. She grabbed my hand, and I held onto it.
"I'm just trying to be honest, because if I can't be honest with you, without being called lame or dramatic or hell, even a goddamn brat... then there's...there's no point." I paused, took a shuddering breath. "When I first met Adrian, I thought he was just some...guy," I chuckled to myself despite my tears. "I never thought he'd have such a big impact on me, my life, my heart. Never."
"Mm," Mom said. I could tell she wasn't saying much so I could go on.
I shook my head. "But he did! And now….now he wants time away from me."
"Baby, what's Dr. Rosado saying?"
I leaned into Mom's embrace, thought of my recent sessions with my therapist. "All I've done with Dr. R so far is cry. She just lets me cry." I leaned against Mom's chest, heard her heartbeat in my ear. "When did I become this person? Who sobs so much over a boy?"
"Oh baby," Mom said. "Don't delegitimize your heartache. Adrian was...your first love." Mom's words made me cry harder. "It's normal to feel like this after your first."
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Saturday, December 22nd, 2029 2pm
Lucas was writing in his library when he heard a knock on the door. "Hey! What's up?"
"How's it going in here?" Peyton asked, circling around and putting her arms around Lucas' shoulders and watched as he lowered his laptop screen. She kissed his temple twice, chuckled to herself. He was always super private about his writing, even now–which is why she cherished the moments he decided to share his writing with her.
"It's alright," Lucas answered, turned around in his chair and pulled his wife to sit on his lap. "How's it going with you?"
"It's alright," she echoed, looked at him for a minute. "...Are you bored?"
She asked the question much like a young person would. Lucas chuckled. "What?"
"Like without grad school and papers and readings. Are you bored?"
Lucas hung his head back. "With you, Ella, the boys, and Larry? No."
Peyton lightly hit his good shoulder. "I'm serious."
"So am I. Even without everything going on, I wouldn't be bored. How could I be bored?" Lucas ran his left hand up and down Peyton's arm in soothing motions. His blue eyes seemed to soften. "Every day is an adventure with you, baby. I promise."
Peyton pouted and their noses rubbed together. "Maybe bored was the wrong word. I meant fulfilled. Maybe even stimulated. I know going back to school was really important to you, Luke–"
"Yeah, it is, but it's not nearly as important as being your husband and being a good father to our children. It doesn't even compare." He squeezed her tightly to him. "Don't worry, Peyt. School will always be there, but our Riley won't always be two years old. You know?"
"Yeah," Peyton said, and they kissed. "You're the best."
He winked at her, and she reluctantly left so he could go back to his writing.
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Sunday, December 23rd, 2029 10:00am
That Sunday morning, my parents decided they wanted to do something different and go out to breakfast together as a family. Karen's Cafe was the first choice. We invited Grandma, Andy and Lily along. I could tell everyone was having a good time just being together, and honest to God I tried to join in the fun. I really did. But I kept fucking spacing and zoning out, staring into space. When my waffles came, I concentrated on eating them.
"You alright, girlie?" Lily asked, in a subtle whisper.
I took just a small sip of my orange juice. "No," I said back. "I can't.." my eyes teared up, and Lily's brows knitted. "I'm having a really hard time swallowing…."
Lily watched me. "Why?"
"I don't know," I said back.
"Are you anxious?"
I nodded, not wanting to draw attention to myself. The rest of my family were engaged in conversation.
"Anxious about what?" Lily asked. She put a supportive hand on my back and guessed rather astutely, "About running into Adrian?"
I nodded, my lips trembling. "He lives here, too."
Lily nodded. "I know he does...but look around you," she suggested. "He's nowhere to be found."
"But he used to work here."
"OK, does he still work here, though?" Lily challenged. "Or was that just a summer thing?"
"I don't know!" I cried, and quickly dabbed at my eyes as Lily rubbed my back.
"Shh," she said, implored me to stop before everyone noticed I was upset. "Ella, it's OK."
I shook my head. Things were so, so very far from being OK. "I don't think I can finish eating. I can't swallow!"
"OK, ok you don't have to finish," Lily said, and she pushed my plate away. When my mother looked our way, concern on her face, Lily said, "She's fine. Just full."
"Baby, you barely ate," Mom said, and Dad looked away from his conversation with Andy.
"I don't want anymore."
Dad cleared his throat. "Ella, I was thinking of taking Riley to the RiverCourt. Why don't you come too?" The hope in his brilliant blue eyes was hard to ignore.
I didn't want to go. I wanted to go back to my room, crawl under the covers and cry until it knocked me out. Then I looked out and saw my family, and I couldn't help but think that this moment–bonding with my father and little brother–was bigger than me. So, I whispered, "OK."
"We can get a head start," Lily offered, as she wore a small smile. "I'll drive you."
As Lily and I bid goodbye to the table and headed outside to the sidewalk and Grandma Karen's car, I thought I saw a familiar face heading towards us. "Shit," I said, looked at Lily.
"What?" she asked, looked to the person approaching us. "...Who's that?"
"Ella?" Debbie Ruiz, an old friend that Adrian and I shared from Tree Hill High, who was now a first year student at the University of North Carolina at Asheville, stood with her hair dyed black, short and blown out right in front of me. "Oh my God!" she reached to hug me, and I had no choice but to awkwardly hug back. "It's so good to see you! How are you?"
"Doing well," I answered, a straight ass lie. "How are you doing? Back in town for break?"
"Yeah! Five weeks!" She patted my arm with an excited air. "I was going to text you! Every year I throw a New Years Eve party. You and Adrian should come! Please come, it'll be so fun."
"Oh, I don't–"
"I've been texting Adrian, but we haven't figured out a time to hang out yet. He must be distracted and consumed by you still," she said, a smile on her face. She meant well, I know that, but I still felt sick. "Well, anyway. You let me know, OK? Oh, and Merry Christmas, Chica!"
"Merry Christmas," I said, suddenly feeling out of breath. I watched her walk away and didn't say a thing until I was safely in the passenger seat of my grandmother's car, Lily behind the wheel. I looked at Lily, and she looked at me. "Yeah...there's no way I'm going to that party."
"That was quick."
"Well! She has no idea about Adrian and me and this stupid break. If she knew, she probably wouldn't have invited me." I watched her. "OK. Say what you want to say."
Lily shrugged. "Nothing. It just...I don't know. It might be fun to show up there classy and over it."
"But I'm not over it. I'm not even close." Lily pulled away from the curb and began driving down the road, beginning our journey to the RiverCourt. "Screw dating politics. He hurt me. Don't I have a goddamn right to feel bad?"
"Yeah...but–"
"I don't want to play these stupid games. If he wants space from me, he's gonna get it."
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At this time of year, the RiverCourt was desolate, save from frequent visits from members of my family–especially my dad. Since he practically grew up on this court, there was no way he was going to leave it behind, even if others preferred to flock to other flashier parks in the neighborhood. Dad thought the RiverCourt's age was part of its charm.
Dad had brought along a small plastic hoop for Riley that he stowed away in the trunk of his black Ford Escape. He set it on one side of the court, Riley holding onto his hand.
Mom and I watched on the bleachers, Miles sitting on Mom's lap. Miles continued with his adorable, yet nonsensical, babbling, smiling big at his mommy. When he noticed his aunt Lily, Miles' smile only grew, and together they played a game where Lily made a sound and Miles tried to replicate it.
"OK, Riley," Dad said, bending down low on his haunches. "Here's the ball." The blue ball had images of Bugs Bunny on it. Lucas bounced it twice on the tarmac. "It's bouncy!"
Riley began to laugh at his dad's expression. "Bouncy ball!"
Dad laughed, too. He caught the ball in his hands and pointed to the drawing of Bugs Bunny. "Who's that? Who is that, buddy?"
"Bugs Bunny, Daddy," Riley smirked, his blue eyes lighting up.
"Good job!" Dad bounced the ball again. "Come here," he said, motioning with his hands towards the plastic hoop. "See that? That's called a hoop. Daddy wants you to try and put the ball in the hoop! Here, watch." Still sitting on his haunches, Dad easily threw the ball through the small hoop. He watched Riley smile wide, and he laughed. He collected the ball and gave it to his oldest son. "OK, now you try!" He let Riley bounce the ball a few times. He got behind him, put his massive hands over his son's little ones. We anticipated that Riley would begin to fidget or whine, but instead he just watched and listened.
Mom began to pat my leg. "Ella, are you getting this!? Film this!"
I quickly reached into the pouch of my UPENN hoodie for my phone, and put it on video. I aimed it at my dad and little brother and hit record. In a flurry, the weight of this moment began to sink in. I was about to witness Riley make his first basket.
"Raise the ball up like this," Dad said, his soothing voice flowing into Riley's little ear. Together they raised the ball up into the air, their united grip firm. "There you go. Now…." Dad guided Riley to aim the ball, pushing it back. I could tell it was mostly Dad doing the work, but it was still wonderful to see. Dad let go and said, "Ok, try and shoot, Ri!"
Riley raised the ball over his head and lunged it towards the hoop. We were all expecting him to miss, to be honest.
Except he didn't.
My jaw legit dropped onto the floor, and Dad's arms raised into the air.
Lily began clapping, Miles began giggling, and knowing my mom, she was probably crying.
"His first basket!" Dad called over to us. He looked so damn proud. Riley was hugging him hard, his short arms wrapped around Dad's neck.
"Wait, don't move!" Lily said, and she got up from the bleachers and snapped a photograph of Dad and Riley with their huge, endearing smiles.
"Yay," Mom said, "You got that on video, right?!"
"I got it," I said, hitting end record. "I got it."
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"And I missed it?!" Uncle Nathan exclaimed, as we sat in his living room.
Shortly after Riley made the basket, Mom got a call from Aunt Haley, who invited us over to drink eggnog and watch all our favorite Christmas movies together, and just catch up. Naturally we told them all about Riley's exciting accomplishment at the RiverCourt with Dad at his side.
"Way to go, Riley!" Uncle Nathan's smile was adorable as he ruffled his nephew's hair.
"We have it on video, Uncle Nathan," I said, taking a sip of my eggnog.
"Yeah, Ella got it," Lily said.
"Well, let's see it then! Hold on, I'll hook up the phone to the TV."
"I'll help you, Dad!" Mattie said, getting up from the love seat. "Ella, you have an I-Phone, right?"
"Yes." I reached for my phone, unlocked it and handed it to my cousin.
Once the video was uploaded to my uncle's laptop, and the laptop hooked up to the television, the family gathered around to watch what we witnessed first hand earlier. They cheered as the ball went into the basket.
"Aw," Uncle Nathan said, as he sat next to Aunt Haley. "That is awesome. Riley! That's you, nephew!"
Riley was drinking just a bit of eggnog from his sippy cup from where he sat on Lily's lap. He began laughing seeing himself on screen, and we started laughing, too.
"Ella!" I turned to see my aunt Haley. Luckily I heard her, which doesn't usually happen when I stare off into space. "Wanna help me make the popcorn?"
"Sure," I said. Mom handed me my crutches, and I pushed up. I have to admit, even though Joshua threw me to the wolves and made me walk with crutches my first day of PT, I got accustomed to them. It was still slightly uncomfortable, and I had to walk slow, but I was walking.
"You're looking great, sweetie," Aunt Haley said. I could see the sincerity in her eyes. "I'm really proud of you."
I shifted on my toes. "Thanks."
"So, how's school?" Despite the fact that Aunt Haley was a teacher at Tree Hill High and I was a senior there, we didn't see each other much on the daily, and obviously the powers that be weren't going to put me in Aunt Haley's class.
"It's alright," I answered. "Keeps me busy I guess."
"Yeah," she said, her voice soft and velvet like. "How are you doing otherwise?"
"I'm fine," I lied.
Aunt Haley sensed she wasn't going to get much outta me today, and nodded. "Well, I'm here if you ever wanna talk, OK?"
"OK." I added in a fake smile for good measure. "Thanks."
"Always." She opened the pantry door and grabbed the popcorn. "Go ahead and choose the drinks!"
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We all gathered by the television in the living room, spread out either on the floor with blankets, or on the love seat, or massive couch. For our film, the kids chose the original Miracle on 34th Street, much to my mom's delight.
"I used to watch this with Grandma Anna during Christmastime," Mom said, as she sat snuggled on the couch next to my dad and myself on the other side. The baby monitor she'd brought along from home blinked, just in case we needed to hear Miles who was napping in the other room. "Remember, Dad?"
"I remember," Grandpa answered. Uncle Nathan had encouraged Grandpa to put his feet up and 'get comfortable.' So he did, his feet propped on the ottoman, a glass of eggnog in his hand. "Your mother loved this movie. Aw… I miss that woman so much."
A profound quiet washed over the room. I looked over and saw Mom's lips twist in a slight frown, sadness enter her eyes. Dad leaned over and kissed Mom on her temple–any moron could see that she needed consoling.
"She's always with you, Larry," Aunt Haley said, from where she sat next to Uncle Nathan. 25 years of marriage and my aunt and uncle still cuddled and held hands.
"Yeah," Mattie spoke up, holding Olivia in his lap. "She's in your heart."
I let out a breath, tears in my eyes. I often think of how I never got to meet Grandma Anna, and how I never got to meet Ellie, either. I wonder what they would say to me now, with this constant pain pressing up against my chest; this need to fucking cry every few minutes; this floating sensation that carried me as though my feet are no longer on solid ground.
I reached over and grabbed my mom's hand, and she held on tight as the film commenced.
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Christmas Day, 2029
One of the things Lucas absolutely loved, since he was a child, was Christmas morning. Karen went out of her way to make it extra special for the two of them, and then there was the visit from Keith in a Santa hat.
Since Lucas married Peyton and they had children, it gave Christmas a whole new wonderful, magnificent meaning. There was nothing like waking up his wife, whispering Merry Christmas, baby, in her ear and kissing her there until her eyes fluttered open. Nothing like hearing Ella's lopsided pitter patter down the hallway at the crack of dawn to bring them downstairs to open gifts, her eyes beautifully green and full of magic. With the addition of Riley, it only got better. They sit cuddled up by the fireplace, reading a brand new book together. They'd spend the morning being lazy, until Peyton had to migrate to the kitchen to prepare for company and Christmas dinner.
It was with those thoughts that Lucas rolled over in bed, wrapped one arm around his wife and pulled her close. He reached over and kissed the back of her ear. "Merry Christmas, baby…."
Peyton let out a breath, opened her eyes to the feel of Lucas' muscular chest pressed against her back, his strong arm around her belly. She let him brush hair from her neck as he kissed her there in a spot that always had her gasping out loud. She turned in bed only to kiss him on the mouth several times. "Merry Christmas, Luke," she whispered back, and their eyes met. She reached up to run her hand down his cheek. "It's Miles' first Christmas!"
"Yeah it is," Lucas smiled at his wife's enthusiasm, which led to more kisses.
Peyton looked over Lucas' shoulder at the clock on the night table. "8am, not as early this year, babe."
"I know! Crazy, huh? I kinda like it." Lucas pressed his fingers into the fabric of Peyton's red holiday nightie, kissed her deeply. He heard her moan only slightly and he rubbed his body against hers the same time his tongue slipped into her mouth. Her long fingers threaded his hair, as his crept up the hem of her nightie and grazed the bare skin of her thigh. He grinned at her when they pulled away for only a second, and she him. "You're still so beautiful, sweetheart," he whispered to her.
She rolled her eyes, her cheeks colored at the compliment. He kissed her cheekbones, and then her lips. There they stayed, wrapped in each other and hidden from the whole world, until Lucas heard the distinct sounds footsteps.
He exhaled and pulled away, being sure to put the covers over his waist. "Well, that's them."
"How do you know?" Peyton asked, her lips slightly swollen, her hair disheveled, and the left strap of her nightie off her shoulder. She had one hand on his chest. Fuck, she was stunning.
"Honey, who else would it be?" Just as Peyton was about to call out to them, he adjusted so he was fully under the duvet cover. "Just a second." He pressed her hand over his erection and her eyebrows shot up as she smirked. "Wait a second, please. They'll knock."
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With the crutches, my pace to my parent's bedroom was too slow for little Riley, who had run up the hallway barefoot in his Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer pajamas. "Riley!" I hissed after him. "Wait."
"Ella," he said, watched me walk.
"I'm coming, my baby." I chuckled to myself as Riley wrapped his right hand around my black crutch once I made it to the closed bedroom door. I remembered that Riley was too short to reach the handle. "OK, remember the rule? We have to knock first. Knock." Together, we knocked on the door a couple times.
"Mama! Daddy!"
"Tell them it's Christmas, Ri! Say that Santa came."
"Santa came!"
"Come in!" Came Dad's voice, and I reached to turn the door handle. I found my parents sitting up in their bed, huge smiles on their faces at seeing us. "Merry Christmas!" they chorused. Mom looked so happy.
She opened her arms, and Dad reached down to put Riley on the bed, since it was too high for him to climb up. "Merry Christmas, my sweetheart!" she said, covering Riley's face in kisses. "Santa came, didn't he?"
"Ya! Santa's here."
"Yay," Mom cheered, and she laughed as Ri settled on her lap. Meanwhile I had taken the empty seat next to Dad, who'd just kissed my temple.
"Merry Christmas, pumpkin pie."
"Merry Christmas, Dad," I said. It was hard not to smile at the look on Ri's face, the utter glee in Mom's eyes, and the calmness of this morning. Dad brushed his thumb against my cheek and winked at me. Soon after, my parents got out of bed, Dad wearing a white and red striped shirt and Mom wearing her red nightie. Dad went to get Miles from his crib, and together we made our way downstairs.
Grandpa Larry was already up with Grandma Karen. The only one still sleeping was Lily.
Grandpa opened his arms and Riley ran into them. "Merry Christmas!" he boomed, laughing freely and kissing Riley on his head. "Look what Santa brought you!" Together, grandfather and grandson moved to the Christmas tree, which was brilliant and glowing in all its glory, presents stacked underneath in a neat display.
After Lily woke up and the adults had at least one cup of coffee, we all gathered around the tree to open presents. I was determined not to think about Adrian, and instead spend the day emotionally present. To be honest, it was really fucking hard, waking up this morning without one of his amazing holiday text messages.
"OK, Ella, this is for you," Mom said, holding a wrapped present in my direction. "From Mom and Dad."
The gift was a music book full of piano sheet music from all the jazz greats. "Wow, thanks so much," I said. "Awesome." I blew my parents a kiss from where I sat. "Have Grandpa open a gift now!"
Dad motioned to a gift covered by a garbage bag (it was too big to wrap). He got up and moved it from the wall and told Grandpa, "Uncover it, Larry."
Larry reached over and took off the garbage bag with a helping hand from Dad, and when he realized the gift was a brand new Samsung Smart television for his bedroom, his eyebrows shot up and he sat up straight, stared at Mom. "Are you crazy?" he demanded, though it was obvious he was happy about it. We all began to laugh, and luckily Lily was filming this on our video camera.
"You're welcome, Dad," Mom said, chuckling. She made her way over the mess of torn paper and ribbon to give embrace her father, with Miles in her arms.
"You're crazy," he said, wrapped his arms around her.
"Grandpa, say thank you."
"Thank you!"
"Now you can watch Judge Judy in HD!" I said, and Grandpa started laughing, his shoulders jiggling in his signature dance move since the stroke.
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The hours melted into the late afternoon/early evening, and everyone was all dressed up as company arrived. This year, Uncle Nathan and Aunt Haley were spending the holiday with Lydia James, Aunt Haley's mom at her house with the James' sisters. So Uncle Julian and Aunt Brooke showed up, along with the kids and Victoria Davis, who didn't like to spend Christmas away from her grandchildren. I really didn't think she was as much of a bitch as everyone said she was, but apparently she cooled down a lot over the years since Natalie was born.
Uncle Derek and Aunt Lisa were also invited with my cousin Aaron. Also on the list was Lisa's mother Dolores Harland (she was in town for the holiday from Chicago), who we'd met several times before and really gelled well with our family. Dolores was fun-loving, gracious, and unbelievably generous. She was really, really close to Lisa, since Lisa's dad left when she was young. She absolutely adored my uncle Derek and was over the moon when she found out they were engaged from what I remember. Her joy only doubled when she found out she was to be a grandmother.
Dinner consisted of a beautiful Christmas ham as its star. We ate, laughed, drank and reminisced. Grandpa Larry and Dolores were getting along splendidly, and were often involved in conversation. With my belly full, and feeling kinda sleepy, I migrated to the front of the tree and admired its twinkly lights.
Lily plopped down next to me. "Sleepy?"
I chuckled, playing with my phone on my lap. "You know me so well."
Just then, my phone went off in my lap with a new message. When my eyes glanced upon its sender, my stomach plummeted and my heart rate spiked. "Fuck," I breathed.
"What?"
"Adrian texted me."
Lily shifted to face me on the couch. "What's it say?"
I read it over to myself three times.
Hey.. I know I said we were on a break and we shouldn't talk, but...I don't know. I've been thinking about you all day. How we used to send each other messages at midnight. Give each other gifts. Just be with each other. Your smile. I do miss that. I hope you're having a nice Christmas, Ella.
I looked up at Lily after she read it to herself. "Wow."
I took the phone and after a minute discretely typed the only reply I could think of.
Are you drunk?
"What's going on?" Andre asked, a bottle of beer in his hand. He took a seat next to Lily and put his arm around her.
Yeah, a little bit.
Lily showed Andre the thread of texts, and he made an annoyed sucking sound with his teeth. "Please," he said. "So typical to send the drunk sappy I miss you type of text over the holidays. He's just emotional and using it as an excuse to mess with your head, Ella. Don't let him."
"Yeah," Lily agreed. "Don't respond. Do not. You'll just get sucked in."
"OK," I said. Logically, I knew Lily and Andre were absolutely right. Yet emotionally, I wanted to talk to Adrian. Badly. To tell him how much he was fucking hurting me, for one. "OK."
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New Years Eve, 2029 4:00pm
I walked into the parlor by the foyer, crutches and all, to see my parents sitting and admiring the tree, Riley and Miles sitting between them. Grandpa Larry was sitting in the hickory chair, drinking from one of his frozen bottles of water.
"Dad," Mom said, before noticing I was in the doorway. "Why don't you change out of your pajamas?"
Ever since Grandpa's stroke, he lumbered around in any and all pajamas he owned (not all at once), instead of getting dressed. I'd overheard my dad telling my mom that they should talk Larry into getting dressed every day, to help with his spirits. Like this, Grandpa looked unkempt and frankly, sloppy.
"For what?" Grandpa snapped, a frown on his unshaved face.
"You have such nice clothes," Mom continued, ignoring Grandpa's attitude. She pointed at him. "When we go to Brooke's tonight, you better believe your putting something nice on and leaving those rags behind."
Grandpa harshly waved off Mom's comment. "Whatever. I'm not going."
"What do you mean 'you're not going?' You have to go where I go."
"Mark will come get me," Grandpa said, leaning on his cane.
I couldn't help myself; I snickered and the whole room turned to me. I hobbled over to sit on Mom's other side in the empty seat.
"What're you laughing at?" he demanded.
"Grandpa. Uncle Mark is not going to come get you."
"Oh what do you know? You know everything now?"
"About Uncle Mark? I don't know about everything, but I know more than you, apparently." Mom squeezed my thigh, a signal for me to stop. I turned to Mom and changed the subject. "So...I think I'd like to go to that party after all."
"The one that Debbie invited you to?"
"Mhm." I lowered my voice, aware that Grandpa Larry was listening. "If he can go to a party and ring in the new year, I can too. Why should I be the one always wallowing?"
"OK," Mom said, smiled at me. "That's my girl."
"Lily's gonna be proud of me," I said. My stomach began twisting in discomfort and anxiety, but I ignored it. "Debbie said I can bring people if I want, I think I'm gonna call Isa."
"Good idea. That'll be fun!"
"I mean, there's like a 99.9% chance I'll see Adrian, but..."
"If you see him, so what?" Grandpa chimed in. I turned to him, slightly shocked. "You walk right into that party."
"That's right," Dad said, after he sent a smile Grandpa's way. "Your grandfather's absolutely right."
"You don't think I'm playing games?"
Mom scoffed. "Not after he drunk texted you."
"OK," I said, though I still felt uneasy. "OK." I checked my phone for the time. "Geez, I have to figure out what I'm gonna wear!"
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Luckily, Isa was on board with the plan. "Can I bring Hector?" she asked over the phone.
Hector was Isa's boyfriend since last year. They met at one of Isa's mom's art exhibits, and it just so happened that Hector also went to Tree Hill High, we'd just never met him before–and yes, the campus was big enough where stuff like that happened.
Inwardly I cringed. I wasn't exactly planning on being a third wheel. "Sure! Wanna come over and we can get ready together? I need help picking out an outfit."
"Sure, gimme like an hour. Then Hec can pick us up and drive us later."
"Ok, cool. See you soon."
By the time Isa arrived, it was nearing 5:30. My parents were busy getting everyone ready to head over to Aunt Brooke and Uncle Julian's house. The two of us retreated to my room to pick out an outfit. I chose a simple, classic black dress that hugged my curves. As Isa helped me with my makeup, she asked, "So what made you change your mind about going to this party?"
"It wasn't to show him up or anything like that...I don't know, I just… I don't want to spend all my days hiding and in pain. It's New Years Eve...and besides, this isn't about Adrian. This is about seeing an old friend, and ringing in 2030 with my new ones."
Isa smiled. "Sounds good to me."
"And maybe..." I sighed. "Maybe if I confront my fears instead of running from them, it'll help me move forward. Do you know what I'm saying?"
"Yeah, I know what you're sayin'!" Isa laughed at our inside joke. "Even if it isn't about Adrian, I just have to say–you're gonna look so good, he's bound to have some regrets. Don't move!" she yelped when I shook my head in laughter.
"Sorry, sorry!"
With Isa's hand, I made my way downstairs–albeit slowly. The sounds of my Keds and her heels hitting the stairwell alerted my grandfather.
"Wow!" he said, once I hit the landing, holding onto desperately to Isa.
Mom peeked around the corner, and she smiled upon seeing me.
"She's hot, right?" Isa laughed, and Mom nodded.
"Isa did my makeup," I announced.
"I love it! Can you do mine?" Mom joked.
"You look beautiful, kiddo," Dad said, hands in his pockets. He reached over and kissed my forehead. "Rock out and have fun tonight, and be careful. Always watch your drink."
The doorbell rang. It was bound to be Hector.
"Drink?!" Grandpa exclaimed.
Mom and I looked at each other. "OK, goodbye!" I chirped, pulling Isa by the hand and thus evading further questions. I blew kisses to my little brothers.
"We'll be at your aunt Brooke's if you need anything! Love you so much!"
"Love you too!"
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Several cars were piled in Debbie's driveway, and Spanish music blasted from inside the house. "You made it!" Debbie said, opening her arms. She was dressed beautifully in red. "Come on in!" She was so distracted as hostess she didn't even ask me where Adrian was.
I hugged Debbie and said, "These are my good friends Isa and Hector," I told her over the music.
"Welcome!" Debbie said. "Make yourselves at home, there's food and drinks...lots of drinks!" Just like that, Debbie disappeared, and we were left to fend for ourselves.
"Well, let's snag a spot," Hector said, and led Isa by the hand–while also keeping an eye on me in case I needed help. Hector was the tall, dark and handsome type. Sort of like a Hispanic Clark Kent.
"Preferably by the food," I chirped, and Hector laughed.
I sat down on the couch near the food spread, where Hector made me a rum and coke. "Strong, buddy," I said.
"Too strong?"
I sipped on the drink and let it wash down my throat. "Nope!"
Isa laughed at me. "Having fun?"
Just like that, that new Luis Fonsi song came on the stereo, and I looked at her. "You better go dance your song out."
Isa hung her head back, and I playfully pushed her. "Go, you guys. Go be cute." Hector took Isa by the hand and I watched as they joined the other people dancing. I cradled my drink and wasn't alone for too long–as I heard someone call my name. With a pounding heart I looked up, and to my relief, it wasn't him. "Jon!"
Jon had a huge grin on his face. His hair was in a buzz cut now. He held out his hand. "No, no, you don't have to get up. I'll sit down." Jon took the seat next to mine, rested his arm on the back of the couch. We hugged and he said, "Wow, you look great!"
"Thanks! You too! It's so great to see you. How have you been?"
Jon began telling me all about West Point. After West Point, Jon was going to the military–something he said he was born to do. "How about you? How's everything?" We had to lean in close to hear each other over the music.
"Things are alright," I said. "I don't know if you know, but I had major leg surgery in August."
"Yeah, I think I saw something on Facebook. How are you feeling?"
"I'm OK...just take it one day at a time."
"That's all you can do." Jon tapped my arm. "Hey, so where's Adrian? I was looking forward to seeing him."
"Oh...um…" I cleared my throat and looked Jon right in his handsome, honest eyes. "Actually, Adrian and I are on a break right now."
Jon's face fell and I watched his mouth gape. "Oh, fuck," he breathed. "I'm sorry. Does Debbie even know that?"
I shook my head no. "It's really OK."
"...Are you sure? Because I think she's expecting to see him, too."
"It's fine. Tonight's not about him."
"Feel like talking about it?"
"Not really." I patted Jon's leg. "Thanks for asking, though."
Jon put his hand over my manicured one. "Of course."
Yo, Jon! Came a shout from across the room.
"I'll be right back," he said. "But hey, enjoy yourself. Let loose."
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After another drink, I slowly began to make my way to the restroom. I insisted I was OK, the drinks only beginning to hit me. At the restroom, inevitably there was a line, and I was forced to wait on it.
"Ella," Debbie called. Concern was all over her face. "I am so sorry!"
"Don't worry about it," I said, held out my hand. "Jon told you?" Debbie nodded. "...He's coming, isn't he?"
"I don't know!" Debbie answered, frazzled. "I text him before I knew, and he hasn't answered yet." She looked at me. "What do you want me to do, here?"
I thought about it. "Nothing," I decided. "Do nothing. Tonight's not about him and me. Seriously. I didn't mean to drag you into this."
"No, no. It's fine. I just don't want you or him to be uncomfortable..."
"If we run into each other, we probably will be," I told her honestly. "But it will be alright. I think." I think that was the rum talking.
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The hours passed, and soon it was nearing 9:30pm. After lots of catching up, picture-taking, people watching, I sat in the same spot, cradling my third rum and coke (which I sipped slowly). I insisted it was alright that Isa and Hector go mingle, possibly disappear for a bit. I could hold my own. Carefully, I got up, and decided to switch spots. I crossed the room into the next one, when a rough force knocked into me.
"My fault!" came the slurred voice. I began to trip, sway. I was falling.
A strong pair of arms grabbed me. I knew that grip from anywhere. I turned. It was him.
"Dude, watch where you're going!" he said, glared the guy down. My fault, he said again. "...Are you OK?"
I ripped away from his hold. I didn't want to feel anything with his arms around me. "I'm fine."
Adrian watched me, dressed in a blue and gray button down and dark wash jeans with Clarks. I noted he wasn't wearing any cologne. He swallowed. "You look nice."
I shook my head, and began walking away from him. He didn't follow me. I made my way across the house to Debbie's back porch, sat down in the wicker chair, and let the slight breeze sober me up. I'm not sure how much time went by that I spent sitting there–but eventually I was no longer alone.
"Ella?"
I looked up to see Adrian standing there. I swallowed hard to calm my pounding heart, my shaky hands. "What?" I whispered, and my whisper was pained.
He sighed. "Look, I….I just wanted to apologize. I never should have sent you that text. I was drunk."
"That's not an excuse."
"I know."
"Do you?" I challenged, then shook my head. "God, Adrian, why the fuck are you making this so hard?" I stared at him, and I realized that all I'd been wanting to tell him began to bubble to the surface. "You're making me feel like...feel like I'm not worth it." I held my hand so he wouldn't interrupt me. "Making me feel like I wasn't worth fighting through it for, like I was somebody you could just cast aside. After everything we've been through, after all I've done for you, how much I love you. I don't understand how you could do this...how could you–how could you have screwed me when you knew the entire time that you were going to initiate this break?!"
Adrian sighed a heavy sigh. "OK...I should not have done that. I fucked up."
I shook my head. "You just wanted sex!"
"No. No. That's not true. I wanted to be with you."
"What, one last time?" I asked him, quite harshly.
"I fucked up. Ella, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to mess with your head."
"That was so selfish," I said, tears in my eyes. "This whole break thing is selfish. Why would you just leave me hanging like this?"
"Because I love you too much to let you go completely," he said, shrugging. "Yes, it is selfish. But I'm OK with that."
I stared at him. "Do you realize how fucking painful it is to be in love with you, and not be able to be with you? Not to be dramatic, but I've never been in so much pain. Ever. Not even when I almost drowned in my uncle's pool."
He seemed stunned.
"Do you know what it takes to even get out of bed?" I asked him, being sure to enunciate every word. "But how could you know, right? You can't know, because you haven't been in my life–and whose fault is that?"
Tears were flowing freely down my face now, and I was shaking.
He let out a deep shattered breath. "I..."
"Don't say anything else," I begged him, my hand up. "Don't say anything else."
I tried to memorize every detail of his face, with the feeling that I wouldn't see it for a while. His dimples. The slight curve of his chin. The stubble on his cheeks. His long eyelashes. The birthmark under his right eye. When I was done, I whispered, "Please go."
"What?" he breathed.
"Go. Because I'm only four months post-op, drunk and emotional. I can't fucking walk. Just go, please!"
"Ella, I'm not going to–"
"GO!" I shouted, the first time I ever truly raised my voice at him in three years together. "Just go, get out, have the freedom you...you want."
"OK..." he raised both hands. "OK." He shook his head, turned his back and left me there.
Being the only person on the back porch, I began to sob, digging the heel of my palm into my eyelids. I sat hunched over, cried until I couldn't breathe. The alcohol flowed through me, time evaded me, and again–I wasn't sure how long it was until Isabel and Hector showed up. One got on either side, consoled me. Only when I finally calmed down did they take me to Hector's car and drive me to Aunt Brooke's house.
We got to Aunt Brooke's place, and everyone was laughing and having a good time. They turned to see me, my mother surprised, but also not surprised at all...and that's how my evening ended up: with a hug from Natalie, and being surrounded by my family–Isa and Hector included.
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