Something Just Like This Page 2

  “Never break them.”

  “That’s right.” And I never intend to break a promise to my niece, which is why I hope she never asks me about her mother, because I can’t promise her the world when it comes to her future.

  * * *

  Abby bounces through the door, yelling for her mom. Courtney, my sister, darts into the room shushing her, finger pressed to her lips. “Abby! Audrey is finally asleep. It took me the better part of your school day to get her there.” She picks her daughter up like the amazing mother she is and swings her around. Through the shushing, she still keeps a smile on her face.

  “Here you go.” She takes the Jimmy Johns bag from me. “Turkey Tom as requested.”

  “Mmm. Thank you. You’re the best.”

  “Just remember that.”

  She drops Abby to the floor and pats her on the head before ordering her to her room. “Please put something else on before you leave.”

  “But I like this dress, Mommy.”

  “I know, but it’s cold out. I didn’t argue when you asked to wear it to school. Now I’d like for you not to argue with me when I ask you to put on some jeans before your excursion with your uncle.”

  “What’s an excursion?” Abby asks, butchering the word to the point of it almost being unidentifiable.

  “A trip, pumpkin,” I tell her. “Now listen to your mom so we can leave.”

  As soon as Abby is out of view, Courtney pulls her sub out of the bag, rips open the package, and takes a huge bite. Pieces of lettuce and meat fall onto the floor, and she doesn’t pay it any mind.

  “Slow down! I’ve seen crocodiles snap off a person’s arm slower than that.”

  “No, you haven’t,” she mumbles through her bites. “And I’ve had a baby attached to my chest all morning, either crying or eating. Within an hour, I’m sure she’ll be back at it. I’m on borrowed time here.” She’s almost halfway through the sub.

  “Mom would tell you you’ll get a stomachache.”

  “Well, Mom’s not here, is she?”

  No. She’s not. And even though it’s been six years, it doesn’t make it easier. My mouth falls open, a quiver following shortly after.

  “Sorry. I don’t know why I said that.” Her apology comes slow, but sincere.

  “It’s fine.”

  “No, it’s not.” She wipes her mouth with her bare arm. “Just because I have baby brain and am being pulled every way these days is no reason for me to be so insensitive, especially since…”

  She can’t even finish her sentence. I wonder if she’s even said the words out loud. Is there a specific moment in time after someone receives their diagnosis that they come to terms with it and vocalize it? I don’t even know if I’ve said it out loud. After losing our mother to the same asshole six years ago, hearing Courtney’s diagnosis almost killed me. Lung cancer. Never smoked a day in her life. Exercised daily. Ran a fucking marathon. Now she’ll have part of that lung removed, and we’ll pray to God that the treatments that will suck every ounce of energy out of her will work.

  Fucking cancer.

  “Have you told Abby yet?” As much as my sister’s sickness keeps me up some nights, Abby worries me even more. She’s so young. Will she even know what’s going on? She adores her mom, and now she’ll be forced to witness her most vulnerable moments. I catch my tears in my throat just thinking about Abby’s life without her mother. My life without her.

  I can’t handle this.

  But I don’t have a choice.

  Cancer is a reality, and even though we’ll grab it by the horns and beat the shit out of it, we have to deal with each moment as it comes. Right now that’s breaking the news to Abby.

  She shakes her head. “Not yet. Arthur thinks we should wait.”

  “He what?” How on Earth can he think that’s a good idea? “The longer you wait, the harder it will be. What if…what if something goes wrong during the surgery?”

  “It won’t.”

  “But what if it does?”

  “It won’t.”

  “Dammit, Courtney, you don’t know that! Why does Arthur get to decide this? Aren’t you two a team?”

  “Yes, we are, and as a team, we decided not to tell her yet. Please respect that.”

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing, that these words are even coming out of her mouth. I turn to the wall behind me and stop myself from punching my fist through it. If Audrey weren’t asleep and Abby wasn’t in her room changing, I probably would do it. “Don’t you remember when we found out about Mom? You were with her, and you forced her to tell me right away. She wanted to wait. She thought I wouldn’t be able to handle it. But you made her. And I’m grateful that you did. And I stood by her side up until she took her last breath. Don’t put this off, Court, you can’t.”

  She polishes off the rest of her food, crumples the bag in her hands, and heads to the kitchen. “Well, Arthur and I have already discussed it so what is done is done,” she says as I follow behind her.

  I slide onto a stool at her counter. “You know, people can change their minds. That’s what makes us human.”

  She leans against the counter, the color draining from her face. The only other time I’ve seen this face was when she first told me about her diagnosis. It’s a face I don’t like to see. “Arthur and I are talking about separating.”

  The words confuse me at first. She can’t mean what I think she means. There’s no possible way. I must have heard her wrong. “Excuse me? You two are divorcing?”

  “No.” She pushes herself off the counter as the color slowly returns to her face. “I don’t know. We’re discussing it.”

  “Why? How did this even come up? What about your treatments? You’re on his insurance!”

  “If we’re separated, I’ll still be on his insurance. That’s not an issue. It’s a separation, Landon. It’s time apart. Separation doesn’t necessarily end in divorce.”

  “But most times it does. You two have been together since high school. What’s going on?” If Mom were alive this news would devastate her. She adored Arthur. He and Courtney first became friends in grade school and started dating once they started high school. They were voted the Couple Most Likely to Marry in her graduating class. Other girls in class envied their relationship, a fairy-tale romance, if you believe in that shit.

  “I don’t know.” Her voice deflates as her shoulders sink. What more can she possibly handle right now?

  My mind jumps back and forth between an array of reasons they could possibly separate. Too much stress? A gambling problem? Another woman? “Is he cheating on you? I’ll kill him!” My temperature rises a hundred degrees, and my heart pumps at a violent rate. I’ve known Arthur most of my life, and never once did I even consider the fact he’d be a cheater.

  “No. Arthur would never do that.”

  I pull back, feeling she believes this, and if she does, I should, too. Cheating is not part of Arthur’s character. He’s not a snake. “Then what?” A reason must exist. A married couple of nearly twenty years doesn’t up and decide to separate just for fun. And on the brink of cancer treatment, at that.

  “I don’t know. The cancer. His long hours. A mid-life crisis. I didn’t ask.” She shrugs as though we’re discussing whether she wants a red popsicle or a blue one.

  “How could you not ask?” What is wrong with my sister? Her husband requests time away from her, and she has nothing to say? At all?

  “Uncle Landy! Are we going?” Abby bounces back into the room, sending my conversation with Courtney into a screeching halt.

  Courtney doesn’t seem bothered we can’t discuss this further. I’m not done with her. “This isn’t over. We’ll talk about this later.”

  “No.” She pats me on the back. “We won’t.” She leans down and hugs Abby. “You have a good time today. I’ll see you tonight.” She looks over at me. “I’m letting her skip her nap today. That’s on you, buddy. Be warned.”

  I take the warning but I’m not scared. I can
handle a five-year-old just fine. It’s my adult sister I’m worried about.

  * * *

  I’m a sucker for my niece. The fact I’ve spoiled her isn’t lost in the many bags I’m balancing on my arms. Abby is clinging her Build-A-Bear to her chest, a light brown critter wearing a yellow dress and pink hat. The price of that tiny bear was outrageous, but Abby is worth it.

  “I think we bought every toy in this mall.”

  Abby grabs my hand, her little fingers barely wrapping around mine. “Thank you, Uncle Landy.”

  Her politeness surprises most people, but not me. My sister has done a great job with her, and I couldn’t be more proud. My niece is amazing, and her sister Audrey will be the same. I only hope my sister has the opportunity to see them grow up.

  Courtney refuses to discuss the possibility of her cancer spreading and taking control of her body. It’s a much too real reality she doesn’t want to fathom. I don’t, either, but she needs to think about this stuff.

  “Uncle Landy, can I get a Cinnabon?”

  “How can you have room for one of those? You ate your chicken nuggets, a cheeseburger, fries, and a shake. I don’t know how your tummy can even handle anymore.”

  She squeezes my hand, and I melt inside. She has me wrapped around her finger. Literally. “Please? Mommy never brings me here. I never have them.”

  She doesn’t. If there’s anything my sister hates, it’s going to the mall. She loves shopping. She just hates the mall. Too many people, too many selections, and she especially hates the kiosks set up throughout.”If another person tries to sell me a cell phone or one of those spinner things, I’ll go crazy on them.” She warned me before we left today to watch out for them.

  “Uncle Landy? Pleeeeaaaaaaase?”

  Now she pushes her body against me, her head rested against my hip. She really knows how to get her way.

  “Fine. But we split it.” That’s the only way I’ll go along with this. I don’t have room for one either, but I’ll make it work. And I’ll do an extra set of in and outs to offset it.

  We work our way through the mall to the food court again. This time it’s busier than before, with the after-work crowd now stuffing their bellies and unwinding after a long day. That used to be me. It will be again, hopefully sooner than later.

  We place our order and within a few minutes, sweet cinnamon fills my nose. The roll is too hot to touch for Abby, so I take a fork and knife and cut it up for her. “There. It’ll cool faster this way.” I pop a piece into my mouth and think about my mother. She used to make her own cinnamon rolls during Christmas. These don’t even compare.

  I miss her. And I fear for Abby missing her mom in the years to come.

  “Have you started your list for Santa yet?”

  “I want a Wonder Woman costume!” Her eyes widen to two sizes their normal size.

  I laugh. “That seems appropriate for you. Be sure to tell Santa.” I glance at my watch. “We better go because I’m sure there’s a line, and I have to get you home soon.”

  Abby takes two forkfuls and shoves them in her mouth.

  “Slow down. You’ll get a tummy ache.” My voice trails off at the end as I think of my conversation with Courtney earlier when I warned her of the same. I smile inside. Maybe I’m turning into my mother. That wouldn’t be so bad.

  “Nuh uh.”

  “Yes, you will.”

  “Nuh uh.”

  I won’t argue with her even though I know I’m right. I’ve barely taken a bite of the roll, and it’s gone. I’m more certain now her stomach will pay for this later. Courtney is going to kill me.

  “Okay, kiddo, let’s go.” I gather up our bags, making sure she has her bear before we start the trek back to the other side of the mall where Santa is parked. A few “Now Hiring” signs catch my attention but I’m not looking for a job in retail, nor a short-term one at that. I have enough to get me through until at least the new year if not well into next. I just hate not having a job. I feel useless.

  When we reach Santa’s Village, the line isn’t as terrible as I expected, but it could be better. It’s nearly six, and I know Courtney is strict about Abby’s seven-thirty bedtime. She’ll have more than one reason to be mad at me. We should have visited Santa before we did all our shopping—made it the first thing on our list. I can’t disappoint her now and tell her we’ll come back another time. She’s faced with enough disappointment as soon as Courtney and Arthur spill the beans about Courtney’s illness.

  We’re nearing the front of the line, and I’m grateful everyone seems to be quick with their requests of Santa. Santa and the elves win points for their efficiency.

  “Uncle Landy, my tummy hurts.”

  And there it is. I’m not surprised she’s complaining about her stomach, but I’m a little shocked it took this long for it to bother her.

  “Maybe we should head home.” I hate to say it, but it’s the best option.

  “No!” The disappointment spreads across her face like a storm rolling in at fifty miles an hour. “I want to see Santa. You promised.”

  Her hands are pressed against her tummy, and her face is a shade whiter than a ghost. If we don’t make it to the front of the line in a matter of minutes, she’ll leave a present right in the middle of the North Pole.

  “Abby, I think maybe we should do this another time. I’ll make it up to you.” I hate being the bearer of bad news but I’m sure she feels terrible. I have to hand it to her for sticking it out, though.

  “Noooooo.”

  I can’t stand it when she cries. Sometimes it’s annoying, other times, like now, it’s sad and makes me sad, too. I know how bad she wants this, and it’s hurting her that it may not happen.

  I crouch down next to her, allowing the bags to roll off my arms and onto the ground. I take a hold of her hands. “Abby, listen to me. That cinnamon roll was a little too much to eat. You should get home and rest. Standing in line won’t make you feel any better. Lying down will.”

  She doesn’t answer me, only stares at me with those big eyes, her painted-on smile now erased and carved into a frown. Her skin is becoming paler by the second, her huge eyes now drooping. I know this look. She’s about to lose it.

  “Here!” An arm swooshes past me with a bucket. As soon as it reaches Abby, she throws up right into it.

  When Abby finishes bringing up her dinner and the Cinnabon, I pull her close to me. I don’t care if I get some on my shirt or my pants. She needs comfort right now.

  “Thank you,” I say as I look up to thank everyone’s hero because let’s face it, no one wants to be standing in line with someone’s puke.

  My eyes float up the black leggings, past the green and red fabric with arms so wide she could use them as wings, to the beautiful woman underneath the pointed hat with a bell. Her red lips hypnotize me as she smiles, her blue eyes sparkling enough to make me believe in Santa Claus.

  “Thanks.” That’s all I manage to say. I seem to have lost the ability to speak as I’m entirely fixated on her. I can’t break my gaze from this woman in front of me.

  She holds the bucket behind her back, doing us all a favor and removing the smell as fast as she can. “No problem. I’ve worked here enough years to know when it’s about to happen. I always keep a bucket handy.”

  Prepared, gorgeous, and not afraid to handle the puke monster. I’m already impressed.

  “I’m sorry. She ate a little too much, and I guess her stomach couldn’t handle it.” There. I found the words.

  “Don’t worry about it.” She leans down so she’s eye to eye with Abby. “How do you feel now? Better?”

  Abby shrugs, and I’m not sure if she still isn’t feeling well, or if she’s being cautious with a stranger, which I appreciate. Even though she’s with me, you can never be too safe these days.

  “Tell you what. I think you should let your daddy take you home. Come back tomorrow, and I’ll be here. You can skip the line and see Santa right away. I’m giving you a sick pass.�
�

  Abby releases her hands from her tummy and smiles at me. Neither I nor Abby correct the woman dressed as an elf that I’m her uncle.

  “Really?” Abby asks. She glances up at me and back at the woman, not sure if she should believe her or not.

  “You bet. I’ll be right next to the big guy. I promise.” This time the elf winks at me, and her smile widens, her cheeks so rosy against her creamy skin.

  I’ll have to clear it with Courtney but I don’t suspect it will be a problem unless she’s upset Abby is sick. “You can do that?” I don’t want to disappoint Abby and if what this woman is saying is true, I can still save the day. Uncle Landy to the rescue.

  “Sure can. I’ve been working with Santa for years. I’m probably his number one elf. So, six tomorrow?”

  “Six tomorrow.” I nod at her, trying not to exaggerate my appreciation. “I’m Landon, and this is Abby, by the way.”

  “Sugar Plum,” she says as she pats Abby on the head. “Glad to meet the both of you. I’ll see you tomorrow, six sharp.”

  Abby squeezes my hand with a little squeal to accompany it. As Sugar Plum heads behind Santa’s Village with the bucket, I remain focused on her, smiling inside as the bells on her shoes ding. She may be the cutest elf I have ever seen.

  3

  Juliette

  Landon steps away from me holding Abby’s hand. Before he disappears into the crowd, I memorize his long strides, the way his shoulders dip as he walks, his broad back leaving me to wonder if he plays hockey. I wish he’d turn around one more time so he could pull me in with those muted green eyes. My wish comes true as he turns to offer a wave. I wave back, and he smiles, his arched brows weakening me. My smile softens as I realize I’m still holding a bucket of puke in my hand.

  I’m glad I could help Abby so she didn’t throw up all over Santa’s Village, and I’m especially thankful none landed on me. This happens at least once to twice a season. Since the season has only begun, I’m sure I’m in for another round like this.