Sharing Space (The Complete Series) (34 page)

She gave my father a hug and when he swallowed before saying, “Thank you, Chloe,” I knew he was holding back tears.

“Let me walk you guys to the car.” I started for the foyer to get my own coat, but Chloe stopped me.

“No. Stay with your dad. Call me tomorrow.” She kissed me on the cheek and followed Paul to the hallway before I had chance to say another word.

Chapter Six

Black Christmas

Chloe

“Chloe!”

Fingers gripped my shoulder and gave it a shake.

“Chloe! Come on. It’s time to open presents.”

I pried open one eye and mumbled, “What time is it?”

Brianna frowned. She was in a fluffy pink bathrobe over even pinker pajamas. “I don’t know, but it’s morning. Get up.”

I slowly sat up on the couch, which had served as my bed for the night. I looked around Crystal’s living room. Brianna had already turned on all the lights.

“Girl, the sun’s not even up!”

“So? It’s Christmas! Get up.”

“Can I at least brush my teeth first? My breath smells like last night.”

Brianna sucked her teeth and plopped down next to me. I reached for my cell phone on the coffee table. I’d set it to Do Not Disturb in case Patrick called or texted during the night; I didn’t want to wake the whole apartment. There were no messages. I sat in my disappointment for a few moments. I hadn’t heard from him at all since leaving him at his parents’ house two days before. No phone calls. No texts. Not even an email. I told myself the family was in mourning and that it was understandable if he wasn’t able to reach out, but deep down I was troubled.

He’d told me he loved me and I said nothing. Not sure I’d have called my ass either.

“Um, Chloe?”

“I’m going. I’m going.”

Crystal was coming out of the bathroom as I walked down the hall. “I told her to let you sleep.”

“Yeah, well, you should probably start beating that child ‘cause she don’t listen.”

Crystal laughed and playfully swatted me on the arm, and I walked by her and into the bathroom. Thirty minutes later I was showered, dressed in leggings and an over-sized sweater, and sipping from a mug of tea. Brianna had yet to open a single present and she was about to jump out of her skin. There was a soft knock at the door and she nearly broke her neck in running to answer it.

Uncle Troy entered wearing a Santa hat, but instead of white fur around the brim, it was leopard print.

“Daddy, where did you get that hat?” Crystal asked, one hand on her hip.

“I call it my Pimp Santa hat. You like it?”

I busted out laughing. Crystal rolled her eyes and said, “I can’t even with you.”

Brianna bounced up and down. “Can we
please
open presents now?”

“Let’s do this. The poor child has suffered enough,” I said, reaching under the tree and handing Brianna her first present to open.

Crystal had picture-taking duty while I tried to make sure we didn’t get lost in a sea of wrapping paper by quickly snatching up the discarded shreds and depositing them in a trash bag. Brianna graciously allowed us to open one present of our own for every three or four she opened. She saved my big present for last and squealed with delight when she peeled back the paper to reveal an iPad Mini.

Crystal gave me a disapproving look. “Chloe! That’s too much.”

“Oh, hush. I don’t have any other kids to spoil.”

“Thank you so much, Chloe!”

The joy on her face was all the thanks I needed. Brianna wolfed down her breakfast and ran back to the living room to play with her new gifts while Uncle Troy, Crystal, and I ate in the kitchen.

“Crystal told me about Patrick’s sister.” Uncle Troy said. “Tell him his family is in my prayers.”

I nodded. “I will when I see him.”

“I imagine he’s spending Christmas with his people?” Crystal asked.

“Yeah. His mother has had a really rough time of it. Charlotte was the baby.”

“Even meeting her just that one time it was clear a demon had ahold of that child. At least now she’s found some peace.”

I couldn’t agree with Uncle Troy, so I said nothing. I didn’t believe Charlotte wanted to die and I doubt she’d have chosen this end for herself. There was no use in debating what happened to us when we died, but I was sure Patrick and his family was a long way off from finding any peace. I still missed my father; thinking of him at peace didn’t make it any easier when I thought him not being there to walk me down the aisle or meet my children.

There was another knock as the door and Uncle Troy and I exchanged a look. Crystal stood to answer it, but fired off a warning before she left the room. “Don’t either of you start.”

Neither of us said a word as we made our way to the living and watched as Jermaine entered carrying a shopping bag filled with presents. He gave Brianna an awkward hug and said, “Wow. It’s only been a week since I saw you, but I swear you’ve gotten bigger and more beautiful.”

I almost passed out from the effort it took to not roll my eyes. I’d promised Crystal I wouldn’t show my ass and I meant to keep my word.

“Jermaine.” Uncle Troy’s greeting was short but he shook Jermaine’s hand, giving him more respect than I thought he deserved.

“Hello, sir. Merry Christmas. Hi, Chloe. How are you?”

“Good.” I could feel Crystal’s stare, but I refused to acknowledge her. I was being civil. Let’s not push it.

I studied him while he sat with Brianna and she opened her gifts. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t recognized him that day a few months ago. He looked very much the same, still thin with a wide nose and almond-shaped eyes. This was his third or fourth visit with Brianna. She seemed to be adjusting well to the news that her father wanted to be a part of her life. Crystal said the first two times he’d come over Brianna had given him the third degree something awful. That’s my girl.

Now it was Uncle Troy’s turn. While Brianna was in her room getting dressed, he took the opportunity to ask Jermaine about his whereabouts, reasons, employment, and intentions.

“Daddy! Have you been taking pointers from Auntie Adrian?” Crystal asked.

He looked at her like she had asked the stupidest question he’d ever heard. “Maybe I have. But what did you expect? He leaves you with a baby in your belly and not so much as a phone call, never mind child support. You think I’m
gonna sit back and have a beer with him? I don’t care if it is Christmas. Does he know how many Christmases he’s missed?” Uncle Troy shifted in his chair to face Jermaine. “Do you? How many birthdays? School plays? How about sick days? Bad dreams?”

“Daddy, that’s enough.”

“No. It’s okay, Crystal.” Jermaine sat forward on the sofa, putting a hand on Crystal’s leg to quiet her. I was unable to control my eye roll that time and he caught it. “I know you have no reason to trust me. Either of you. And I deserve that. But I was a boy then and I acted like a scared one. I’m a man now and I love Brianna. I just want a chance to show it.”

“Well, it’s not up to me whether you get that chance. If it were, your black ass wouldn’t be sitting here, I can tell you that much. But you best believe, you mess this up, hurt either of them in any way, and
nobody
will be able to find you. Ever.”

And that’s my uncle.

*** 

“I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”
That
I could say. There was no doubt about it. We’d been playing phone tag for three days. I missed Patrick’s face and the apartment felt cold and empty without him. “How are you? How’s everyone?” I asked, stopping short of asking when he was coming home.

“I’m dealing, but my mother… isn’t. Chloe, I’m sorry things are so crazy. I just think it’s best if I stay here for a few more days. At least until I have to be back at the studio.”

“It’s okay. Do what you have to. It’s just…”

“What is it?”

“God. I feel so stupid bringing it up, but the New Year’s party? For the launch?”

“Oh, damn. Chloe, I forgot—”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s just a stupid a party.”

“It’s not just a stupid party. They’re your biggest clients and they wouldn’t be celebrating this success if it weren’t for you. I’ll be home New Year’s Eve and we’ll go together.”

“Patrick, are you sure?” Damn. I felt real needy.

“Absolutely. What time should I be home?”

I closed my eyes and let those words wash over me. “I have to be at the venue by nine, so, eight?”

“You got it. See you then?”

“Absolutely.”

Chapter Seven

Confession

Patrick

Grief is a son-of-a-bitch.

Even if you have one moment of peace or happiness, like hearing your girlfriend’s voice after three days, grief still sits on your chest, reminding you of its presence.
Slow your roll, Patrick. Life will never be the same.

And when you’re not grieving, you’re feeling guilty. What right do I have to be excited to see Chloe in just three more days? My sister will never attend another party. Never see another new year. Never make another winter wish or wear a pretty dress.

I wanted to go home but even having that desire made me feel like an awful person. I couldn’t help it. My parents’ home had always been a place filled with lots of voices, laughter, and movement. Now everyone spoke in whispers. My father spent a lot of time in the garage working on projects that, as far as I could tell, were no closer to completion. Because I wasn’t due back on set until after New Year’s Day, it was just taken for granted that I’d do the majority of the babysitting.

And make no mistake: babysitting is what it was. My mother rarely left her room and my father and I took turns bringing her meals and reminding her to take care of herself. The room I’d shared with Liam as a kid was now my mother’s office, but she kept a fairly comfortable sofa in there and it’s where I slept at night. Some nights, after my father was asleep and she thought I was too, she’d venture out into the living room and look through photo albums. I knew this because one night I got curious and watched her from the doorway. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the sound of my mother crying and saying, “My baby, my baby,” over and over again.

It was a much-needed relief when Cate took off an afternoon so that I could meet with Paul and Max at McDoo’s. Max was on vacation because school was still out for the holiday and Paul had taken a vacation day from the paper to hang with us. The evening went too quickly and I lost track of the number of shots I’d had. The next thing I knew Max was insisting on paying the tab.

“I’m not ready to go back. What can we get into?” My speech sounded slurred, even to my own ears.

“Well, as you know, Roman Glen isn’t necessarily known for its scandalous nightlife, but I got an idea.”

Max’s idea found the three of us splitting a case of beer on the bleachers of the high school football field.

“You’re so getting fired.” Paul said, tapping the neck of his beer against mine. “To Max’s unemployment.”

Max took a swig from his bottle. “Please. They love me. As long as I keep filling up that trophy case I could snort blow off a hooker’s ass right on the fifty-yard-line during halftime and they’d look the other way.”