The Years Had Been a Friend

He leaned forward in the seat to peer at the flashing lights ahead. "You think there's an accident?" he asked.

"Probably just blocking off the roads," she answered. She smiled as his eyes narrowed. "I told you, they take this sort of thing very serious. You'd be fresh out of luck if you were hoping to find any bread or milk today."

"It's the middle of the afternoon," he mused, still a bit stunned. "It's the night before Christmas Eve and the streets are basically empty. How in the world did they get everyone to stay home?"

"Everyone was out yesterday before the weather got worse. The local stations started predicting this days ago and then they really kicked into high gear yesterday. Luckily I was already only planning to work a half day yesterday so I was able to finish up everything I needed to do. I did get stuck in the middle of the masses, but that's the way it goes I guess."

She lifted her hand to wave at the officer as she passed. He held up the 'Drive Carefully' sign and smiled back at her. She slowed slightly and continued to drive by.

"Is your apartment in town?" he asked, suddenly realizing he'd gotten in the car without a clue as to where she was actually heading.

She paused for a moment as she turned the wheel towards the wrought iron gate. "Actually, it's just up here."

He was surprised to see the look of a neighborhood, the beautiful, clearly expensive houses that sat on perfectly manicured lawns. He'd expected they'd keep driving past them, probably moving on to a nice luxury condominium or cluster of townhomes, but instead he felt the car slow and head up the steep the driveway. His eyes widened as he turned in the seat. "This is yours?"

"You seem surprised," she said softly. "What were you expecting? Some sort of drab apartment building surrounded by concrete?"

"No. Of course not," he answered quickly. The truth was he didn't know exactly what he'd been expecting. He just knew he hadn't been expecting this. This wasn't a house for a single, career-minded woman. This was a house for a family and Phyllis wasn't … Unless …

He'd been following behind her without even realizing it and it was her voice as she greeted the young woman at the door that shook him from his thoughts.

"Thank you, Kimberly. That's perfect. I bet she did. No. You don't need to. It'll be fine. I'm sure."

His eyes studied the young woman for a moment. It was a face he didn't know, a name he didn't recognize. She was younger than either of them, pretty, and clearly a part of this life that Phyllis had created here – the life that so obviously didn't involve him.

They were in the midst of a conversation by this point and it would have been rude to interrupt. He slowly slipped off his coat and laid it across the chair by the bar. His eyes fell on the stack of mail neatly placed on the countertop. The breath caught in his throat as his eyes focused on the name printed across the label. Mr. Maxwell Parks. There was a man here. In her house … or was it their home. His stomach dropped and he fought the urge to react. Everything in him wanted to rush this woman, whoever she was, out of the door. He had questions that now seemed to go grow increasingly louder inside his head. He needed answers – answers he knew, in his rational, reasonable mind that he didn't deserve to request.

This was her life now. He had no right to intrude. He had no right to even have an opinion, not after the way he'd hurt her, not after what he'd done. It seemed like an eternity as he stood there and waited, but finally he heard what sounded like a farewell.

Only then did Phyllis finally turn to shed her own coat. He forced a friendly smile as he stared at her hands, waiting for her to shed the leather gloves she donned. The sight of her naked fingers gave him a surge of hope, but still he needed to ask. He had to know.

"What?" she asked as she felt his eyes heavy on hers.

The question formed in his mouth. His lips were poised to begin the words when he saw it. It had the perfect place of prominence on her stainless, steel refrigerator. The paper frame had the year 2021 in a fun, festive font at the bottom which proved it was recent. The smile on her face was one he knew well. It was real and genuine. He used to see it on her face when she looked at him. She was happy here – really happy. The little girl she snuggled against had a decidedly different expression on her face. Here eyes focused instead on the slightly dubious, heavy set, red suited man to their right.

"You have a …." He fought to control his breath and his expression as he finally relented and gave up on speech. His hand lifted weakly and pointed to the picture behind her.

She turned around, immediately understanding his reaction. "Oh," she breathed. "Yeah. Well …" It wasn't as if she'd expected to hide her. It wasn't even that she was planning to keep it a secret. It was just that these things weren't something you shared – not with the man you once lived with, planned a future with, loved, lied to, and then left once the pain and the damage became too much for either of you to take.

"And you're married or you're seeing someone." He gestured to the letter on the countertop. The flicker in her eyes confirmed his theory. There was so much in her life that he didn't know, so much he wasn't a part of. Too much time had passed now. He reached down for his recently discarded coat. "I should probably go," he whispered. "I'm sure I can find an Uber or something to just take me to the airport. I'm sorry if I caused you any …"

He froze and thought about the sentenced he'd planned to say. He wasn't just sorry for the trouble he'd caused her tonight. He was sorry for so much more. "I'm just sorry," he amended. "It was good to see you." He forced a smile as he moved towards the door. "Merry Christmas, Phyllis."

"Billy – wait."

"It's okay. Honestly. I don't want you to feel sorry for me. I'll be fine. This isn't even close to the worst way I've spent a holiday, so …"

"I want to explain what you saw. It's not what you think."

"It's not?" He narrowed his eyes as he waited for her continue. "I feel like we've both said those words to each other a few too many times." He swallowed hard. "This guy, this Max, he doesn't live here?"

She took her own deep breath this time. "Not anymore," she sighed. "It's … It's been a lot. A lot has happened. It's not as simple as all that. I guess it never really is with me."

"Me either," he shrugged. "And that baby? She's yours and his?"

"Not exactly." She couldn't help but laugh as she saw the confusion flash in his eyes. "I told you it wasn't simple." Her eyes glanced back towards the sofa in the living room. "Why don't we sit down? I can try to explain. We've got some time before she's up from her nap."

He nodded and followed her into the open room.

Her eyes betrayed her trepidation and he nearly gave into the impulse to reach out and touch her, the need to comfort her was as natural as his own breath.

"I don't even know where to start," she admitted.

The smile that has melted her so many times somehow gave her comfort even now and she found her body relaxing as she sat down beside him.

"The beginning works," he said softly. "I've got some time."