The Breakup Mix (18 page)

I giggled and pulled on his arm. “Come on, let’s get this over with. Find your table and I’ll let you know when I leave. Oh, and thank you. I owe you . . . again.”

“I will collect; don’t you forget it.”

I returned to my table and extended my greetings mixed with apologies for the outburst while taking my seat. I scanned the table and waited for the shop-talk to begin. I felt my cell phone vibrate in my clutch, so I slipped it onto my lap and glanced at the text I’d received.

Do Not Answer said:
She’s not my girlfriend, Chance
.

I responded:
Does she know that
?

I let my eyes roll over the crowd and looked for the silky red mane amidst the blond up-dos and balding heads; she wasn’t hard to find. Her back was to me which put Tony to her side and in my perfect line-of-sight. I moved my chair slightly in an attempt to place someone’s head between us, but I was unsuccessful. I felt my clutch vibrate again; I slid it under my chair and pulled my napkin onto my lap as the servers made their way to the table.

Dinner was as boring as I expected it to be and equally disappointing as I hoped to spend the evening flirting relentlessly and trying to win the heart of the man I’d released into the wind a year ago. Instead, I was continually drawn into conversations about the latest news, camera dos and don’ts, greatest on-air faux-pas, and speculation over the upcoming presidential press conference in the morning. I managed to only catch Tony’s eye four times and lost my appetite after the second time. He looked completely miserable—stuck.

I tried to muster up some sympathy for the poor fellow sitting next to the redheaded bombshell, but it all became very clear as to why I never heard from Tony. When you have a distraction like that, why would he even give me a second thought? It didn’t seem to matter that conversation with her appeared to be as exciting as kicking an empty shoebox, but hey when the words are coming out of a mouth you’re thinking dirty thoughts about, why does it matter what those words are?

One time, Tony and I were lying in bed sharing a box of tissues under a pile of blankets and taking turns getting the other one herbal tea. We were both so sick, but it had been two weeks since we’d seen each other, and neither one of us wanted to go one more day. He drove to Columbia to see me with a fever of 101 and the heat on full-blast. We curled up and talked for hours about anything that came to mind. We muted the television and made up dialogue for scenes while laughing until we sent ourselves into another coughing jag then made shadow puppets on the walls to mimic romantic scenes. It was one of my favorite days in my life.

If I had taken that job as the anchor on his team, it would be me sitting with him at the table. It would be us shining like a lake under a full moon, it would be us sitting together happy instead of staring at each other like the missed opportunity that we’d become.

The longer I sat there, the more I wanted to put as much distance between Tony and me as possible. I stood up to begin my career’s suicide and walked to Eddie’s table. I interrupted his conversation. “Excuse, me. Eddie, I’m leaving. Text me when you and the crew get back to the hotel.”

He nodded and gave me that Stuart-is-going-to-kill-you look, but I knew Eddie would back me on this one.

I took the long way out of the banquet hall to avoid walking near Tony’s table and left through a side exit in the event Tony would try to follow me. Somehow I sincerely doubted he would be able to casually leave his dinner guest without it being obvious that he was going in search of me. Which only strengthened my argument that she was, in fact, his girlfriend, and I was simply the ex he still loved.

I took a cab back to my room and kicked off my shoes then showered to wash off the grit of the night that had settled deeper than my skin. I’d been played; I’d fallen for it like a girl getting her first “check-yes-or-no” letter only to discover it was a joke.

If I miss the press conference tomorrow, I might as well clean out my desk; Stuart will never believe he’d been duped by Tony, and I would look like the journalist that bailed on the biggest story/non-story of the year. I knew there was no excuse I could give to justify the actions I was contemplating, but Florida rang heavily in my ears. If I needed to put distance between Tony and me, this was the only way to do it. After a day like this, St. Louis and Columbia were just too close for comfort.

I sent Alissa a text:
I’m in for Florida
, deleted all the unread messages from Tony then threw myself on the bed to start the process of crying myself to sleep again.

Chapter Twenty-Three

All I Want for Christmas Is You

Alissa

Three Months Later

One Week before Christmas

I stood in the bathroom and stared at the little bulge peeking over my yoga pants. I finally quit puking about a month ago, but the cravings for weird food I don’t even like at odd hours of the day and night have kept me working out at the gym like a mad woman. But, there was no denying the baby bump this morning.

I wandered into the kitchen, grabbed the orange juice out of the fridge, and set it on the counter. Dani was preparing her coffee and dressed for work like it was any normal day.

I stood sideways. “Notice anything different about me today?”

She looked at me. “You’re awake before nine?”

I dropped my hands. “Very funny.” I smoothed my t-shirt over my stomach. “Do you see it?”

She grinned. “Lis, you’re showing!”

I sighed. “Yes, yes I am. It’s like it was overnight or something.”

She put her hand on my belly. “You’re really showing! That’s just amazing! I hadn’t noticed it until you pulled your shirt tight around your stomach.”

“Yeah, the 28
th
can’t get here fast enough, now. Are you ready for your last day of employment?”

She stirred her coffee. “God, you have no idea. I’m so ready to hit the road. Is everything ready for the Christmas party tomorrow? All of the ladies still coming?”

I poured some juice. “Last I heard. Chance is in, Katie’s coming, and I think Michelle’s still planning on coming unless something else miraculously interrupts our plans like they have.”

Dani frowned. “It’s not unlike her to disappear for a while, but I’m surprised she’s holed up like she has.”

“She said she has a surprise for us, so maybe she’s really coming. I don’t know; there’s no telling with her.”

Dani looked at her watch then leaned against the counter to sip her coffee. Having her here for the last two months has been fabulous. I worried we’d be all weird around each other after living on our own for so long, but it was pretty seamless when she moved in. Her house sold within three days of being listed on the market; it was a personal record for the real estate agent. Not that they had to do much, because the buyers were already interested prior to the listing. She made bank on it, though, so she’s got a nice nest egg to start motherhood. She asked, “Did Katie ever get Michelle to meet for lunch?”

“Nope. No one has seen her since we all met here to announce the private guest’s existence. Not for lack of trying. Chance has kind of done the same thing since St. Louis, though.”

Dani nodded. “Yeah, but
Chance
is mentally stable.”

“That she is. But I know that thing with Tony really rocked her even if she won’t really admit it.”

“I feel sorry for her. He did her so wrong.” She turned toward the coffee pot and asked, “Do you want any of this before I clean it?”

“No, thank you. I’m supposed to be limiting my caffeine, hence the OJ this morning.” I winked.

Dani grinned. “OJ’s good for baby.”

I laughed. “I’ll be ready for the ‘your baby this week’ reading tonight when you get home. Have a good day at work, honey! Go bring home that bacon.”

“I’ll be living off your dime for the next six months, sugar mama.”

“Yeah but we’re going to have a lot of fun in Florida. It’s going to be fabulous! The house is ready to go; all it needs is three eager thirty-somethings with nothing to do but grab some sun and fun.”

“Well, have a good day. I seriously doubt I’ll work all day since my replacement is already acclimated and ready to take the reins. If I can scoot out early, I will.” She grabbed her purse and coffee. “Take it easy today, drink lots of water, and let me know if you feel anything.”

I nodded my head. “Yes, yes, I will. Geez, you say the same thing every day. Your baby is safe with me, now go or you’re going to be late.”

“What are they going to do—fire me?” She winked and waved as she put on her coat and headed out to the garage.

I watched Dani’s car emerge from the garage, ease out of the driveway and head down the street. I squealed with glee as I shuffled down the hallway and threw open my closet. Dani hadn’t wanted to bother decorating the house for Christmas since we were leaving three days after for Florida, and she knew we’d be way too excited to take it all down before we go. She’s got some weird family tradition that says all Christmas decorations must be down before the turn of the New Year or it meant bad luck for the occupants of the house, and she didn’t want to take a chance. But, I couldn’t stand it anymore. Our sad little excuse of a Christmas tree just wasn’t cutting it for me, so I made a plan to transform our family room into a Christmas miracle while she was at work today, and I knew the other girls would love it. And, who has a Christmas party without decorations?

I pulled the gifts and wrapping paper out of my closet and tossed them on the bed then went to the guest bedroom to retrieve the boxes full of Christmas decorations I’d collected over the years. It was tradition to have our annual Christmas party at my house, and it was the one day of the year that we all embraced the magic of the holiday season. Everyone smiled a little bigger, hugged a little longer, and dripped with the joy of the season. So, naturally, I had to do it up right. No trip to Florida could dampen this event.

I bent down to move a few boxes, and I felt this little tickle in my belly. I expected a large fart to follow as that had been my latest trick for two months, but nothing happened. I leaned over to pilfer through a box and felt it again. I sat back on my heels and put my hand on my baby bump. Tears pricked my eyes as my heart started pounding.
That was the baby! I felt the baby move!
I’d felt flutters. I started to call Dani but knew she would race home to put her hand on my belly and be disappointed she couldn’t feel it too, but I know what I felt—the living, growing baby that had made me sicker than I’ve ever been and sucked all my energy had just tickled me. The child forming in my womb that I’d tried to avoid greeted me. It was the most precious thing I’ve ever experienced in my life.

I said, “Well, hi back! Did you like that orange juice?” as tears spilled over my cheeks. I pulled open the first box of treasures. “This one is very special; this was the first ornament I got for my very first Christmas tree. Do you like it?” I sat it on my stomach as though the private guest could see through my skin.

I waited to see if the flutter would happen again, but nothing happened. I bent over to pull the other box out of the closet and felt the sweet little tickle I’d longed to feel again. I chuckled. “Am I squishing you, baby?”

My throat tightened; that was the first time I’d acknowledged the private guest as a baby—a real live baby was moving in me, connected to me. I was no longer alone. My heart swelled as I laughed and cried while holding my belly. I tried to grasp one thought running through my head, but they swooped through so quickly, I couldn’t catch one of them long enough to hold it. Tiny fingers, tiny toes, a little tongue learning how to move—the sheer wonder and magic of it all became so real in those soft little wiggles that seemed to say, “I’m here.” And, I wanted to feel it again and again.

I abandoned the boxes, jumped in the bed, and curled up as I’d been on the floor. Every time I felt the flutter, I gasped, giggled, and rubbed my belly while encouraged the baby to do it again as I wiped my face with my shirt sleeve.

I woke up and was instantly disappointed that I’d fallen asleep and wondered what I’d missed while I was sleeping. I didn’t feel anything, so I wandered to the kitchen to get something to eat. I opened the pantry and asked my belly, “What sounds good for breakfast?” I glanced at the clock that revealed it was already ten-thirty. “Make it brunch.” I pooched my stomach out and swayed back and forth. “Anything sound good? Yes, I agree. Cereal sounds freaking awesome right now.” I grabbed the box of Raisin Bran and went to the fridge to grab the milk.

When Mom was pregnant with Ella, she drank a gallon of milk a day. She craved the stuff—couldn’t get enough—and sighed as she downed glass after glass. Adrianna was only two when Ella was born, so we were constantly on the run to the store to pick up more milk. Back then, I could run in the store with a five dollar bill, get two gallons of milk and come back with change. And of course, Hilary was allergic to everything; boy that was a hard lesson to figure out. Poor kid.

I sat at the table and flipped open my iPad to see what was going on in the world while mine had just changed forever. I read news stories out loud and talked to the baby about what was happening on December 19
th
.

“It’s one week before Christmas, and everyone is super excited about the upcoming holiday. Christmas is a time of year when people look at all of the good in their lives; it’s hard to explain. Some people get stressed out and spend more money than they should, but you won’t ever have to worry about that. I guess that’s one mistake I made in my life that will benefit all of us for the rest of our lives. I know it’s taboo to talk about money to kids, but child, you’re rich beyond your wildest dreams. You’ll have the best of everything and will never have to worry about going hungry or being cold.”

My throat caught as I remembered this horrible little house we lived in before Adrianna was born or even thought of. I barely remember anything else as I was only maybe five or six years old, but I remember how horribly cold that bedroom was. We were living with one of Mom’s flings “just for the winter” because we’d lost our house. He had a two bedroom shack that wasn’t built for children, much like him. The room I had was an add-on with little-to-no insulation, and he was hell-bent on making me be a big girl and sleeping in my own bed. I got in the habit of waiting for them to go to bed then slipping out to the couch to sleep in the heat. During the day, it wasn’t that bad because all of the doors were open, but they made me sleep with the door closed which shut off the heat into my room. Mom laughs now at the year I spent “sleep-walking,” but many of her memories are much different than mine.

I shivered and cleared my throat. “Anyway, you’re going to have a much better life. In a few weeks, we’re moving to Florida to have fun in the sun and wait for you to be born. Your mommy . . .”

The impact of the words slammed against my chest as reality trickled over my body. I slumped in my chair and stared at the table. Dani would be this baby’s mother; she would be raising this child as her own, not me. I sniffled and wiped my eyes. “Your mommy is so excited to meet you.” My voice cracked, but I finished the sentence, “And I’m going to be there the whole time. I’ll keep you safe and sound. I promise.”

I exhaled so loud it startled me. Time to get moving and quit thinking. Thinking never did much for me, anyway.

Five hours later, I stood in the family room admiring my handiwork and started lighting candles. Dani would be home any minute, and I couldn’t wait to see the look on her face. I adjusted the package I’d wrapped and placed under the tree for her then put it back where it’d been.

The smell of the soup I’d made for dinner wafted through the house and gave it that special “it” factor this house had been missing since I bought it. My house was finally feeling and smelling like a home instead of an accomplishment. Leave it to me to find that moment of nostalgia two weeks before leaving for Florida.

I heard the garage door open and sprinted to the kitchen to wait for Dani to come in the door. I gave the soup one more stir then greeted her as she came in.

Her face lit up when she saw the living room lit with candles and Christmas everything dripping from every shelf and table. “What have you done, you busy little elf?”

I squealed. “Surprise!”

She hugged me and gasped, “Alissa, this is amazing! You did all this?”

“Yep. Me and the baby.”

She did a double-take and grinned. “You said baby, not private guest.”

I bit my lip. “Yes, I did.
And
, I made soup.”

“You cooked? Wow, you really are Heidi Homemaker today.” She walked through the living room and admired things she hadn’t seen for a year. “I’ve always loved this angel.”

“But wait, there’s more.” I grabbed her arm and led her down the hall to the family room. “Ta-da!”

Her hand flew to her chest as she breathlessly said, “Oh my gosh, this is amazing!”

“Isn’t it? I just love it.”

She threw her arms around my neck. “This is so perfect! Oh I can’t wait for the others to see this. You’ve really outdone yourself this year, Lis.”

I went to the Christmas tree and retrieved the gift for her. “I have something for you—it’s an early present, but I don’t think we should wait for it.”

She took the gift from me. “I can’t believe you sometimes.” She shook her head and peeled off the wrapping paper. Her hand flew to her mouth as she opened the box and pulled out the tiny little stocking. She read the embroidered words, “Baby Bump’s First Stocking,” then laughed as she cried. “Oh Lis, it’s so sweet.”

“Isn’t it, though? I had to have it made since no one else probably has stockings that read ‘baby bump.’”

She laughed. “No, I doubt they do.”