The setback, p.26
The Setback, page 26
They hop into action, and instead of hiding in my room like I usually do, I stay in the kitchen. At first they try to make me roll the balls David has made in sesame seeds, but after I mush three of four and wind up causing internal sesame seed intrusion, I’m fired.
“You’re even worse than Aunt Amanda, so you have to sit over there and watch.” Izzy points, looking so much like her mother I can barely stand it. A few minutes later, as they’re starting the gingerbread men, Abigail comes out and sits on a stool to help.
Gabe, Steve, and Ethan come out too, and the room is pretty full, but no one seems to mind. They just drag more chairs over, and they’re all laughing as they make some lovely and some impressively ugly gingerbread men. They’re right that they do spread out as they bake.
“Mine looked pretty good, but now look.” David’s peering into the lit oven, and his shoulders sag. “It looks like it’s been punched.”
“All over its body.” I’m laughing as I look over his shoulder.
“At least I got to make some.” He turns and purses his lips.
“Hey, I made one.”
“And then you ate too many red hots, and you got fired. Again.” David’s eyes are really cute when he’s smiling.
“They should have bought more red hots. It’s not my fault they didn’t know that you buy one to eat and one to use.”
“Red hots are gross,” Gabe says. “You only use them for the gingerbread men.”
“Their mom’s been in the hospital,” David says. “Cut them some slack. Geez.”
“She does like red hots,” Abby says. “I knew that.”
“But I didn’t,” Ethan says, “so if you want to blame someone.” He shrugs. “It’s my fault that those guys all look like that.” He points at the unbaked trays waiting for their turn. All the little doughmen have sprinkles for their eyes. After I ate all of the red hots, we had limited options.
“When these come out,” I say, “you can finally get your cookies and go.”
“But we’re about to play games,” Gabe says. “And you promised to play with me.” He looks up at David with painfully hopeful eyes.
“You did?” My eyes widen. “You’re a chump. Gabe’s the youngest, and he always overestimates what he can do. You’re going to lose.”
“He didn’t say he’d be my partner,” Gabe says. “He said he’d play with me. We’re playing Candyland.”
I slap my hand over my mouth. “Oh no, that’s worse. Have you ever played that game?”
“Gabe’s going to teach me,” David says. “But how bad can it be? It’s a game with candy.”
“There’s no actual candy,” Whitney says. “Just a weird gameboard.”
David’s actually a pretty good sport about Candyland, which is heartwarming. Or it would be, if I ever wanted to have kids, which I don’t.
Not that I’d want to have them with him even if I did.
I’m a mess. It must be the holidays messing with me.
A few moments later, David’s phone rings. Instead of checking it and putting it back on the counter like he has every other time, this time he picks up. “I have to take this,” he mouths.
Since he’s speaking in Korean, I assume it’s someone from his family. I’ve taken some basic conversational classes, but I don’t understand most of what he’s saying. It’s even harder to understand anything when I have to pretend not to be listening.
“No,” I snap when Izzy asks if I want to play Monopoly.
Her eyes are hurt, and I feel bad, but David just said no, and then he said something about not liking something.
Or someone?
Who’s he talking to?
Finally, he hangs up.
“That was a long call,” I say.
“Who was it?” Gabe asks.
He just earned himself a really nice gift. I wonder if they’ll overnight something on Christmas Eve. Probably not.
“It was my mother,” David says. “I can ignore most people at Christmas, but you should always answer if your mom calls.”
“You guys hear that?” Abby nods. “He’s right.”
They laugh.
“Did you wish her a Merry Christmas?” Izzy asks. “Or do they not do that in Korea?”
“My mom’s Christian,” he says. “So we definitely did wish one another a happy holiday. It’s already Christmas Day there, actually. They’re ahead of us.”
“Wow,” Gabe says. “Did Santa bring her stuff?”
David laughs. “I’m sure he’s already been by. It’s a long day for him.”
“Why did you talk so long?” Whitney asks. “Sounded like an important conversation. Are you in trouble?”
Bless her. I’ll just have to get them all presents. Who knew that the answer to prying without prying was just having kids around to do it for you?
“Well, my ex-girlfriend’s coming to the United States in two days, and Mom wants me to show her around and take her out.”
“But you have a girlfriend,” I blurt out.
David’s head snaps my direction. “A fake one.”
“Still, we don’t want people to know that.”
“Wait, you’re his fake girlfriend?” Whitney asks. “Why? That sounds stupid.”
Kids are always asking things and then answering them before you have a chance. It’s irritating. But she might also be right.
“Have you ever had a jerk say something and you just want to yell wrong in his face?” I ask.
Whitney frowns.
“No?”
“I’d just punch him,” Whitney says.
Abby laughs, but then she sobers. “Whitney Brooks, we do not punch people.”
Whitney sighs and rolls her eyes. “What I meant was that I would use my words to make him feel really dumb.”
“What if you could use one fake photo to do the same thing?” I ask.
“Ooh, I totally would do that,” Izzy says. Which is how the kids wind up finding out about David’s and my fake-dating.
“So how long are you going to pretend for?” Ethan asks.
I take back all my nice thoughts about kids. Now they’re asking things I don’t want to answer, and it sucks. I do wonder whether David has a response.
But he just looks at me questioningly.
“Oh, I don’t know.”
“If we’re breaking up soon, I can take her out,” David says. “Mom said she’ll be here for two or three weeks, so not a huge rush.”
Soon. That word makes me want to hurl.
Why?
I shouldn’t care.
I mean, I don’t care. It’s just annoying.
When his phone buzzes, I don’t even try to hide the way I peer at the screen. It’s a text from his mom.
“What’s it say?” Of course it’s in Korean, curse her. I only know it’s his mom because David saved the contact as Mom.
“She’s just sending me information about when she’s coming and her updated contact information.”
I snatch his phone out of his hand before I can think about what I’m doing. My fingers fly over the keys as I type a response for David. I TOLD YOU. I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND. SHE’S THE JEALOUS TYPE, SO I CAN’T TAKE HER OUT. NOT EVEN IF SHE WAS HERE FOR A YEAR.
Then I hit send.
“What was that?” His tone’s sharp, and now I’m nervous.
Abby, Steve, and all the kids are staring at us. What’s wrong with me? Why did I do that? Even if I really was his girlfriend, snatching his phone and typing out texts would be way over the line.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
“Helen.”
Like a small company whose stocks are being bought in a hostile takeover, I turn slowly toward him, my hackles up, my glare set to full blast. It’s totally my fault, but I always get defensive when I’m wrong. “What?”
Where his tone was sharp before, this time, it’s not. It’s calm and quiet. “Why did you just send that to my mother?”
I shrug.
Why is everyone just staring at us?
“Hey guys,” Abby says. “Pull those cookies out before they burn, and come help me put my stuff away in my room while they cool.”
“Right now?” Gabe asks. “But we have—”
Izzy slaps a hand around his mouth and drags him with her into Abby’s room. And then they’re all gone. Like a puff of smoke.
The smell of gingerbread fills the room. We’re basically standing in Santa’s workshop, and I’ve just done something totally insane. Nothing about this moment feels normal or rational.
“I did it because I was upset.”
“We’re not really dating. It’s fake.” David’s voice is still totally even. “So why are you upset?”
“What if we tried not being fake?” My voice is not even. It’s not calm at all. In fact, I sound a little insane.
David reaches for me then, the fingers of his right hand brushing along my jaw. Fire claws its way up my belly and lights up my entire body. I suck in a quick breath. David grabs my face, curling toward me, and when our lips meet, it’s like an explosion. I lean into him, and he practically consumes me.
I don’t want him to stop. “Don’t take out that stupid girl,” I rasp.
He shakes his head, and then he’s kissing me again. His arms wrap around my waist, tugging me closer, and I go. Happily.
A giggling sound from the hallway is probably the only thing that would have worked to stop us, so maybe it’s good that Izzy and Whitney and Gabe got curious.
“I think your entire family’s watching us,” David whispers against my ear.
“Well, since you’re my actual boyfriend now, and since I live here, you probably ought to get used to it.”
His smile against my mouth is one of the best feelings I’ve ever had.
23
Donna
My favorite author is this woman who, like Abigail, went to law school, and like Abigail used to, I think she lives in Houston. She has a ton of kids too. Four, five, six, maybe? Once you get up there, there’s probably not much difference. She writes all over the place like a rabid squirrel. Fantasy. End of the world. Romance.
My favorite series of hers is called the Finding Home series. It’s about all these people, real-life people, who have problems. They’ve had lousy parents, they’ve gone through bad breakups, or they’re dealing with issues at work. The commonality is that they’re broken, basically. But in the story, they fix themselves, and that’s why they’re able to find love.
I like the idea that it’s not an unfathomable mystery why people are alone. It’s something they can control, to an extent. It’s something that, with enough patience, and time, and work, they can repair, and then they’ll be capable of loving fully and deserving that same kind of love from someone else.
I referred the books to a friend of mine, and she read the first book and liked it, so then she picked up the second one. That one’s called Finding Faith, and it’s about a lady who was engaged, but when her fiancé discovered she didn’t want kids, he dumped her. The main story happens after all that, obviously. That guy’s not the hero.
But my friend Eve said she didn’t like it because of that backstory. She put the book down and walked away, because she “didn’t like reading books where the main character has already loved someone else.”
Because the character in that book had fallen in love and had her heart broken, my friend didn’t think the love the heroine would find in the book was as pure.
My friend Eve’s an idiot.
I thought I loved Charlie. That’s why I married him. By her logic, I’m now impure, unworthy of love.
When we’re kids, we think candy must be good for us. After all, how could something that tastes so good be bad!? We think that working out is a waste of time. Our heart health isn’t even on the radar. Kids don’t like doing anything that’s hard, but in life, everything good requires effort.
At first, I just rolled my eyes and let it go, but it has circled back to bug me several times since. My first love crashed and burned. Does it mean my love for Will is worth less? Does it mean we’re not special, because I’m dinged and dented and weathered?
As Abigail sits across from me, I can’t help mulling it over again. If loving Charlie and losing him was bad, if it spoils the love I have with Will, how much worse would it be for her? She loved Nate and it was a perfect love, from what I can tell.
“That dress is perfect for you,” Abigail says. “You’re lucky. There’s no way I could wear Amanda’s dress.” She sighs and pats her enormous belly.
“I should hope not,” I say. “You’re pregnant! You’ve created another life.”
“It’s still a little depressing, seeing the toll it takes on me.” She shakes her head. “I’m happy. But it’s also a little hard.”
“Does it really look nice?” I turn a little, trying to see my full profile in the cramped space of the dressing room.
“Oh, Donna.” Abigail shakes her head. “With that gold overlay, the full skirts, and the fitted bodice? You look like a queen.”
That makes me smile. “Can I ask you something?” I sit on the stool they provided, hoping it won’t crush anything or cause wrinkles.
“Sure. Go right ahead.”
“You really loved Nate, right?”
She blinks. “I did, yes.”
“Your marriage was almost perfect?” That’s what Amanda says.
Abby snorts. “No one’s marriage is perfect, no matter how it looks.”
“Yeah, okay, but you guys were happy most of the time? You still loved him after having four kids, right?”
“The kids were the best thing about our marriage,” she says. “But Nate was pretty great, too. He made a lot of mistakes, and he always tried really hard to fix them and not make the same one twice.”
“But after he died, did you think you couldn’t love someone else?”
She sighs slowly. “It’s not that I didn’t think I could love someone. I knew a happy relationship was possible, and that always helps. I just didn’t think I’d be lucky enough to find someone who would be as great a fit with me again. Does that make sense?”
I nod.
“Honestly, I probably overthought it.”
Of course she did. That’s kind of her thing. “Did you feel guilty about dating Steve? Like you didn’t deserve to find love again?”
“For sure,” she says. “Well, I felt guilty. It’s not that I thought I didn’t deserve it. I just felt like loving Steve was a little disloyal to Nate. Also, Nate had asked me not to have any more kids.” She presses her hands on her belly and laughs. “Obviously that’s not a promise I kept.” She shrugs. “Ultimately, we have to make the best decisions we can make in the world we’re living in.”
The best decisions we can make.
“Are you feeling guilty?” she asks.
I tell her what my friend said.
“What an idiot.”
“Right?” I feel a little dumb even mentioning it. “But for some reason it stuck with me.”
“That lady’s fundamental understanding of love is wrong. Maybe it’s the media who failed her. They sell love as this thing that’s pure and bright in every way. Remember all those stupid stories about unicorns coming only to virgins?” She rolls her eyes. “Love’s not pure.”
“What?” Now she’s lost me. “Isn’t love the purest emotion?”
“Love is greedy,” Abigail says. “You look at someone and your heart says mine. You want them with you every second. You don’t want to share. You want to have and be and possess everything about them.” She shrugs. “And it’s also selfless. When I see someone I love hurting, I would do anything, sacrifice anything, kill anyone, to keep them from pain.”
“It’s greedy and selfless?” Now I’m confused.
“It’s also enduring. That person can hurt your feelings more than anyone else, and sometimes they will. If you don’t really love them, you won’t have the strength to move past it. They’ll do things that are careless, and it takes energy and vulnerability to explain what they did. You need to have faith in them that they’ll listen and care. It also takes energy to heal from their mistakes and from your own.”
“Okay. It’s greedy, selfless, and enduring.” This is a lot more than I really expected.
“I’m talking too much,” she says. “And it’s almost time for you to go.”
I laugh. “I did ask Abigail Archer something. I knew what I was doing.”
She tilts her head. “Donna, love is complex. It’s rich. And it’s a living thing. It’s not an emotion. It’s not static. Love means that you keep trying when you want to quit. It means that you do things that are uncomfortable for you, to help the other person. It means that you want something that’s hard and you stretch to get it. Above all things, it’s active. Don’t worry about love being pure or perfect, because at its heart, love is the messiest emotion of all.”
Love is the messiest emotion of all.
That may be the truest thing she’s ever said. That phrase keeps running through my head as I walk out of the dressing room. The bridal march is already playing, so we have to walk quickly to reach the entry.
“Are you sure this is fine?” I wanted Abby to walk me down the aisle since my dad’s dead. And even if he wasn’t, he was a jerk. I figured Abigail was about as anti-my-dad as it gets. She did know him though, and she advocated for him too, when neither he nor I deserved it.
Having her take his place is weird, but love is messy.
“I’ve been sitting down this whole time. I’m totally great,” she says. “Steve checked me right before we left, and baby boy is doing fine.”
Right before I duck through the open doorway, I pause. “The wedding’s going to be fine, right?”
“Amanda planned it,” Abby says. “She may not be perfect at everything, but she’s flawless at things like this.”
“We’re inside, so no weather issues,” I say. “And the flowers and everything else came right on time.”
Abby nods. “No muss, no fuss.”
As we walk up the aisle, which is lined on all sides by people I’ve known since forever, I catch a glimpse of Will. His dad’s standing beside him, and his mom’s on the other side. It’s not normal to do that, but no one in the world is more excited than they are, so we decided to have them join us at the altar.
