To the Steadfast (21 page)

“I feel like a hog.
Tell me about you,” I insist.

“I have an obnoxiously
large family of six brothers and two sisters, of which I am the youngest. I
have a gazillion cousins and every birthday party consists of third cousins
half-removed or something crazy like that. Which, by the way, is cool because
you get lots of gifts. I was born here, but my Dad is from Turkey and my mom is
Lebanese. I’m not sure there’s much else to tell.”

“I’m sure you can think
of something,” I press on.

“Oh, I’m a certified
genius.”

I cock my head to the
side.

“No, really. I am.”

By now, I’m certain
going out with him isn’t a mistake. He is a nice guy and has a lot going for
him. He is smart, funny, and extremely dedicated. He’s everything Mischa
wasn’t. He has ambition and drive.

“It’s late. I should
get you home,” Bassam says, looking at his watch.

I don’t argue because
I’m ready for bed. We leave, and when we pull up to my apartment, he walks me
to my front door. I’m even more confused than before. Will he make a move? I
fumble with my keys before turning to him and notice one of my curtains
rustling from the corner of my eye. Probably Lydia playing spy.

“I had a great time,” I
tell him.

“Me too. I’d like to
hang out again sometime. As friends or as a date if you’d like.”

 “Of course. Actually,
I’m going with Lydia to New York for Christmas, but I’ll be back when the
spring semester begins. Maybe we can hang out then?”

“Sounds good.” He pulls
out his phone and gets my number before leaning in for a lingering hug. A small
part of me wants him to kiss me, but that may only complicate things. It’s
better to be safe than sorry. I watch him walk back to his car before going
inside, drunk on excitement.

Lydia is waiting by the
door and hounds me instantly. “How was it?”

“Wonderful. He’s a
really great guy once you get past the holier than thou attitude.”

“I happen to like that,”
Lydia calls out before walking into the bathroom.

“I bet you do.” I throw
myself on my bed and listen to my heartbeat. It’s fast but soon steadies into a
familiar rhythm. My phone vibrates in my purse, and I pull it out. Who would be
calling me this late at night? As I read the name on the screen my heart speeds
again. I stand up and answer it.

“Hello?”

“Cody?”

“Yes?”

“Hey, it’s Mischa. Did
I catch you at a bad time?”

I sit down and pull off
one of my black heels and toss it on the ground. Mischa calls—every once in a
while—just to talk, or so he claims, but I know better than to let anyone know.
It’s our little secret.

“No, no, I’m fine.”

I want to know how he
is. How Violet is. I miss her. I wish our friendship had ended on better terms.

“I was thinking about
you. Remember that first time we met?”

“It was my first party
with Violet.” I lie back on my bed and begin doodling in the corners of my
school notebook.

“I remember thinking,
what in the world is Violet doing hanging out with this goody two shoes?”

 “Really?”

“Don’t get me wrong,
you looked good. I remember seeing you in the tutoring program so—” He stops
speaking and there’s a muffled sound. “Yeah. I’m talking to Violet. I’ll see
you later, babe.”

I stop breathing. He’s
talking to Kate. I should hang up. I should do something, but I can’t move. I’m
frozen in this spot, listening to the girl he chose, the girl he loves. When he
gets back on, I’m seconds away from crying. Kate. The girl he wants to be with,
and I’m just the girl he sneaks around talking to. 

“I got to go. I just
wanted to talk for a minute. We can catch up soon. You coming into town for
Christmas?”

“Maybe.” I don’t want
to say too much.

“Good. We’ll talk soon.”

 I hang up. My former
mood is now but a speck in the wind. How can I pretend to be happy when I’ll
always feel second best?

“Was that him?” Lydia
is standing in the doorway with her toothbrush hanging out of her mouth.

“No, it was my mom.” I
sit up and open my nightstand. There’s only one thing inside of it. The
necklace Mischa gave me. Clutching it in my hand, I lie back down and scoot far
under the comforter.

“Are you okay?” Lydia
calls out.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just
tired.”

“Don’t lie to me. That
was Mischa on the phone, wasn’t it? Why do you talk to him? It’s so pathetic.
And speaking of former men, have you even tried calling Killian?”

“I have. I’ve sent him
a dozen texts and emails. He doesn’t answer, and I don’t blame him.”

“Well, get over Mischa
then.” She scoffs and goes back into the bathroom. It’s pathetic. I am utterly
and unreasonably pathetic, but I can’t let him go. Not right now. Not yet.

Winter break goes by in
a flurry. Lydia and I spend a week or so in New York.
We stay at her parents’ place in Manhattan and catch up. When Christmas Eve
comes, I’m back in Betty with Nona at her retirement center. Dad is present,
which is a first. Mom likes to spend the cold days in Bora Bora or somewhere
equally far away. She sent a gift via the postal service. A huge gift card to
Macy’s to get myself some new clothes. I’m convinced she thinks I wander around
in dirty scrubs all the time.

“How is school going?”
my father asks.

“Going well. I’m just
getting my things in order for my nursing application.”

Nona puts a red party
hat on my head and kisses my cheek. “Enjoy those general ed classes while you
can. Soon your life will be all work and no play.”

I pull the hat off my
head. “Why are we wearing these?”

“I thought they would
make the holiday more festive,” she says, pushing a party blower into my mouth.
“Some kids are coming to sing carols in a little bit. I thought we could spice
up the action a little.”

“Mamma…” my father
warns. “ Don’t get too overworked.”

She waves him off
before leaning in and whispering to me. “Don’t suppose he’s a sourpuss because
I wouldn’t let him bring his new girlfriend, huh?”

New girlfriend? When
did this happen? My dad and I rarely talk about personal things. If we do talk,
it’s to lecture me on school, money, or life.

“Dakota doesn’t care
about my love life,” my father remarks from beside me. The room is quickly
filling up with other guests, making it hard to hear, but the next few
sentences that come out of his mouth confuse me.

“I’d prefer to stay out
of Cody’s love life as well, but now I have guys tracking me down and demanding
I stop pressuring you and allow you to live your own life. I’d really prefer if
you didn’t spread our family business all over town, Dakota.”

“What?” All the color
drains from my face. What guy and when did I ever spread our family business
all over town?

“The Senator’s son.
Killian or something. I had security escort him out. This was a few months ago.
I tell you what though, I won’t be voting for his Dad again.”

I’m uncomfortable
asking more questions, but Killian hates me. He wouldn’t risk getting arrested
so he could yell at my father, would he?

Nona mistakes my
confusion for devastation because she grabs my chin like I’m eight years old
and pinches my skin. “You’re growing up and that means heartbreaks. There’s no
getting around it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She
doesn’t have to tell me twice. I’m well aware of heartbreak.

She shoves a small red
box with a silver ribbon in front of me. “Merry Christmas!”

In return, I pull a
poorly wrapped box out of my purse, an old book of poems I’d picked up at an
old bookstore in New York. I hand it to Nona and set a card with a restaurant
gift card inside in front of my father. I’ve never exchanged actual gifts with
him, just gift cards. My mom was the one who always bought things and said it
was from the both of them. When they split, he began replacing gifts with
stacks of cash. I tear into Nona’s gift and am surprised to find a small, round
pin with a red emblem sitting on a bed of blue velvet.

“Nona!” I gasp. “Your
nursing pin. I can’t take this. It means so much to you.” I try and hand the
box back to her, but she shakes her head.

“My grandfather came to
America all the way from Italy with nothing but the clothes on his back. You
come from a long line of nurses and midwives.” She glances at my father. “And
well-respected doctors. I want you to have it.”

I pull the pin out and
clip it to my blouse, my hand shaking the entire time. I’ve always admired the
pin from afar. When I was little, I’d spot it sitting in the back of her
jewelry box and always wondered what it would be like to have one of my own.

Nona smirks at my
father. “If you’d have gone into nursing like I suggested it could have been
yours instead, Kenneth.”

He glares at his
mother, a look that only lasts a few seconds before she puts a stop to it. When
the carolers come in, it’s too loud to talk. So we sit and listen until the end
of the night.

“Are you staying at
your Mom’s place tonight?” my father asks. I don’t know if he’s offering to let
me stay at his place in some weird way. I assume it’s just a question to be
answered.

“Yeah, I’ll go back to
school tomorrow night.” The nice thing about going to school in Tennessee is
the quick drive home. New York would have been an entire day trip.

“That’s nice. Merry
Christmas then… You didn’t open your gift.” His voice is uneasy and there’s a
hint of hesitation in it.

“Merry Christmas, Dad.”
I pick up the card and tear it open. When I pull out the card, I’m shocked to
find it feels a little heavy. The card is plain-looking with a simple ‘Happy
Holidays’ written across the front in green script. I’m sure his assistant
picked it up.

I gasp when I find a
small black key taped to the inside.

“What’s this?” I look
up to my father, who isn’t even smiling. He’s watching me intently.

“It’s your new car.”

“But you said you
wouldn’t get me one until I began my clinical.”

“You can’t rely on
rentals anymore. You need a car. Just leave the rental at your mom’s place, and
I will have my assistant return it.”

Nona winks at me, and I
get the feeling that she had something to do with him coming to this
conclusion. I have a dozen questions. One of them being “What kind of car did you
get me?”

“Thanks.”

“It’s at your mother’s
home. I have insurance on the car, but don’t let any of your friends drive it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I mean it.”

“No one drives it.”

His eyes narrow. “No
guys at your mother’s home either.”

Nona interrupts by
squeezing me. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart. School will be over before you know
it. Use that new car to come visit anytime. Love you.”

“Love you, Nona.”

I glance at my father,
not sure if we should hug or not. He nods and I nod back before walking away
and driving to my mom’s.

The lock on my mom’s
front door is frozen shut so I have to use all my
body weight just to push inside. I rush in and slam the door behind me before
pressing my numb fingers to my neck to warm them. Pulling off my scarf and
coat, I throw them on the floor. The house is unusually cold, prompting me to
turn on the electric fireplace.

“Hello!” I sing through
the house as I walk straight towards the kitchen. There’s no one home, but I
don’t care. There’s a party going on next door, which is so loud I can hear
Santa,
Baby
clearly. I know for a fact that the entire block is there, along with
some of the most prominent families in Betty. Senator Carmike’s Christmas Eve
party is a tradition and the talk of the town. When my parents were together,
they’d attend every year. I sneak a peek through the frosted window and watch
the people in shimmering dresses standing around with glasses of champagne in
their hands. They look so happy. 

I flip the overhead
light on and pull the milk from the fridge before sneaking another look. I
wonder if Killian is wandering around in there somewhere. Christmas is one of
the few holidays he spends with his parents. I grab a cookie from the glass jar
on the counter and wander through the house trying to peer into all the windows
as I pass. I can’t make out too many faces from so far away, just a bunch of red
dresses and men in suits.

I head upstairs and sit
by the window to watch some more. I can see right into their yard. People
coming and going. If Killian didn’t hate me so much, I would crash the party.
But I did what I did, and I got what I deserve.

I’m stuffing my face
with pity party chocolate when my phone goes off.

Bassam: Merry
Christmas. Hope everyone has a great holiday.

I’m surprised at first,
but I’m obviously the recipient of a mass text message greeting, which deserves
the standard reply of thank you. My fingers seem to have a plan of their own,
and I reply with something a little more personal.

Where are you
spending Christmas?

I lay the phone down
and continue to listen to the sickening Christmas music blaring from the
neighbors. There are large heated gold tents set up in the backyard that have
dozens of poinsettias arranged around the perimeter. Maybe I could sneak in and
talk to Killian’s parents. Find out how he is doing or what he has going on. I
really need to stop this. We were friends. Now we’re not. It’s over, stop
obsessing.

A brown head pops out
of the tent and heads for the back door. It could be Killian, but from so far
away, I can’t really tell. My attention is diverted by a girl in knee-high
boots and a short white dress tripping and face planting onto the ground.
That
had to hurt.
Covering my mouth, I’m not sure whether to laugh or go help.
When I notice the front of her dress is covered in blood, the nurse in me
breaks loose like The Incredible Hulk. I run downstairs and pull on my shoes. I
take the shortcut through my backyard into theirs. When I make it through the
gate, the girl is sitting on the ground, but someone has brought her a towel
which she is holding over her nose. A few people crowd around but look clueless
as what to do.

“Are you okay? I’m a
nursing student. I can help.”

“I’m fine,” she
insists. A huge cut on her head gushes with blood. It trickles down her
forehead into her eyes.

“That cut looks deep. I
have a medical kit at my house. Why don’t you let me clean you up?” I grab
another towel from beside her and press it against her head.

At that exact moment, a
few people come rushing out of the house. I look up to see Killian’s parents
with an older, white-haired man. I recognize him from a few of my father’s
hospital benefits. He smiles at me before speaking. “It looks like your guest
is in good hands. Dakota Lombardi must have her father’s talents.”

“Dakota?” Mr. Carmike
says, looking me up and down as if he doesn’t recognize me. Sure, it’s been a
few years and the last time he saw me I was wearing half a pound more makeup
and my clothes were a little more risqué.

“It’s me.” I give him a
tight smile.

“I’m fine. Really.
Thank you for trying to help. I just need to get home and get cleaned up,” the
girl beside me says. She looks to be a few years older than me, but pure
mortification is written all over her face.

“If you’re sure,” I
tell her. I help her up and Mrs. Carmike grabs her arm to help her to the door.
Everyone else begins splitting up and after a minute, it’s just me and Mr.
Carmike standing there.

“You sure grew up,” he
says with too friendly of a tone. It’s not that I’m disgusted by him. He’s
handsome in a forty-something kind of way. Fit, chiseled chin, and wide smile.

“Well, it has been a
while since you’ve seen me,” I say. I tuck my hair behind my ear and give him a
flirty pout. I could use his attention to my advantage. “So, Mr. Carmike, is
Killian home?”

He chuckles, making his
blue eyes sparkle. “Call me Jim. Nah, my son is spending the holidays this year
elsewhere with his new girlfriend.”

I keep a straight face but
am surprised to hear Killian has a new girlfriend. I step closer to one of the
outside heaters and warm my hands above them. “I’m glad for him. I must get
going though.”

“Stop by anytime,” he
whispers in my ear as I try and walk away. I keep walking, not looking back.
Before I can make it to the safety of my own room, someone grabs my shoulders.
I spin around, half startled, and put my hand over my heart as I see Elliot
standing there in a black suit.

“I thought that was
you,” he says.

“Jeez, you scared me, Elliot.”

When he doesn’t answer,
I back up a little towards my house where the lighting is better. Something
about being alone with him unsettles me. I never knew Elliot that well, and I
don’t plan on changing things.

“Wait,” he calls out,
his voice a little more timid. He grabs a poinsettia from an elaborate display
by the house and hands it to me. “Happy Christmas.”

I give him a polite
smile and take the flower. As if it’s expected, I bring the red petals to my
nose and inhale.

“Careful,” he says with
a laugh. “These flowers are poisonous if ingested. I’d hate for something to
happen.”

My eyes draw up, not
fully understanding the humor in his statement.

“Um…thanks. I should
get going.”

“Wait!” He grabs my arm
a little tighter than need be. He seems to realize what he’s doing and lets go.

I walk away in such an
angle that I can see him from the corner of my eye. Sleeping with Elliot was
the biggest mistake I ever made. Thank God I don’t have to see much of him.

  When I’m back in my
own yard, the cold takes over. The loneliness takes over. Once in the safety of
my room, I shut all the blinds in my room. The green light is flashing on my
phone so I pick it up. Bassam has messaged me back.

Bassam: My parents
don’t really celebrate the holiday, but we are skiing in Colorado this week.
How about you?

Cody: At my mom’s
place. My dad bought me a car, so the holidays haven’t been a huge waste.

Bassam: Sweet, what
kind of car?

I can’t believe I
forgot to look! I rush downstairs and into the garage. Right in the middle of
the garage sits a brand new black Volkswagen Beetle.

I jump up and down
while screaming. “I got a bug! I got a bug!”

When the excitement
begins to wear down, I jump into the driver’s seat and begin checking out all
the cool features. It’s been so long since I’ve had a car of my own. It feels
like another step toward independence. My phone buzzes and I immediately answer
it, thinking it’s Bassam to find out about my car.

“You will never believe
this. I got a Volkswagen!”

There’s a deep chuckle
followed by a voice I’m all too familiar with. “You gonna come visit me now?”

I stop everything. Stop
smiling. Stop moving. Stop breathing. “Mischa?”

“Miss me yet?”

“I—I—how are you?” 

“Thinking about you and
that one Christmas Eve when you, me, and Violet made that huge feast at my
house.”

A smile spreads over my
face as I remember that Christmas. My parents were gone, her parents were
passed out drunk in their bedroom. We’d decided to create our own tradition.

 “None of us knew how
to cook. It was awful.”

“Hey now. I’d like to
think my stuffed chicken made an impression.”

“You stuffed it with
buffalo wings!” I point out.

“So tell me how life
is. You spending Christmas with a new boyfriend or anything?”

“Not really. I hung out
with family tonight, and there’s no boyfriend. There’s a guy, but it’s too new
for the family thing.”

“He doesn’t deserve you
anyway.”

The garage is so cold I
can see my breath in front of me. I can’t believe he just said that. “What?”

“I miss you, Cody.”

He sounds sincere, and
for a moment I almost let my guard down. I almost let myself believe that he
wants me. It’s impossible to get over a guy that won’t leave me alone, and I’m
too in love to tell him to stop.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Don’t pretend to want
me when you’ve already chosen someone else.”

“I’m just stating the
truth.”

 “No! You can’t keep
doing this to me. I need to move on, and I can’t do that if you’re always
calling.”

He groans into the
phone. “Do you have to?”

I don’t know if I can.
I’ve spent half my life in love with this guy. Maybe I’ll spend the other half
trying to fall out of love.

 “Don’t call me again.”
I hang up the phone and rest my head on the steering wheel. I refuse to cry
over him anymore. With Bassam, there was a flicker of hope. As small as it was,
it was enough to hope for someone else.