Under the Mistletoe (5 page)

RIVERA

Esteban & Mia

April 04, 1959
           
August 18, 1959

to

December 08, 1991

           
Today was the 20-year anniversary of his parents' death.

           
He had every right to hate the world...

           
We got Alex settled into the passenger seat of Cal's car and drove
quietly down the road. He pulled into the driveway of a small,
one-story house on the corner.

           
Cal helped Alex out of the car, up the front steps, and inside. I
followed closely behind.

           
“Alex, sweetheart,” a woman's voice came from the kitchen in the
back of the house. The Rivera's grandmother, celebrity designer
Adriana Holbrook, rushed into the room and embraced her seemingly
lifeless grandson. “Cal, I put the tea on. Pour your brother a cup.
We'll be in his bedroom. I have his bed made up and ready for him.
Steph,” she turned to me. “It's good to see you again.” With that,
she pushed Alex into a bedroom at the far left corner.

           
The house was small, but cozy. The fireplace in the living room
cast a warm glow onto the wooden floor. Mr. Rivera's home had all
of the inner workings of a secluded log cabin and I was falling in
love... with... the house, of course.

           
Calvin passed by with the tea and half-smiled as he entered his
brother's room. Moments later, he and his grandmother reappeared,
closing the door behind them.

           
“Steph,” she reached her arms forward and scooped me in a hug. “How
have you been, sweetheart?”

           
“Is he-”

           
“He'll be fine,” she said. “Calvin, honey, you need to get back to
your lady and smooth things over.”

           
“How did you know-”

           
“
It's Christmas
.”

           
He nodded and pecked her quickly on the head. “Bye Gran.”

           
I turned to follow Calvin.

           
“
Where do you think you're going, missy
?” she asked,
harshly.

           
“With him--”

           
“No ma'am,” she cocked her head to the side. “Calvin, tell this
girl's mother she won't be back tonight. She's having a sleepover
with her new best friend.”

Chapter Five

Thursday December 08

           
“It hits him harder every year,” Adriana said, clutching her cup of
tea with both hands. “He's never found it in his heart to forgive
himself.”

           
“How--”

           
“Car accident,” she said, shaking her head and wiping a tear.
“Twenty years they've been gone...”

           
“Mr. Riv..
.Alex
... he would've been so young.”

           
“Six. And boy, was Alexander a special kid,” she smiled. “He loved
Christmas. He'd run through the house every night screaming
let
it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!
It was never about the
presents with that boy. He was captivated by the magic of the
season... the thrill of having something to believe in.”

           
“Santa?”

           
“And flying reindeer,” she smirked.

           
“Of course,” I half-laughed.

           
“A traveling Christmas group came into town that year. They were
advertising a real-life nativity scene, holiday music, and a
petting zoo for the children; complete with every animal
imaginable, including Santa's nine reindeer.”

           
“Sounds wonderful--”

           
“Little Alex thought so too,” she continued. “He begged them to
take him. Of course, Mia was reluctant. There had been a heavy
snowfall the night before and she didn't want to risk taking the
boys on the road. Poor Alex just couldn't understand why his mother
kept telling him no. He cried for days. Finally, much to her
dismay, the boys' father packed him up on the final day of the
event. Mia and Esteban left the other boys with their grandfather;
Calvin had already outgrown the magic of Christmas and Blake was
still so tiny, just over a year old. The drive wasn't a long one,
but too long to risk in the treacherous weather. The snow kept
falling. The ice piled onto the road. Esteban must have known that
the trip wasn't worth taking. At some point, he turned around and
headed back toward the house.” Adriana buried her face in her hands
and cried for several long minutes. “Esteban and Mia never made it
home.”

           
“You don't have to talk about this,” I told her, taking her hand
from across the table.

           
“I'm sorry,” she dried her eyes. “I get so wrapped up in caring for
the boys that I almost forget to grieve for myself.”

           
“Because you lost your...”

           
“Son... Esteban.” She glanced at the clock hanging above the stove.
“I suppose I should check on Alex--”

           
“Do you mind?” I asked, quickly. “I'd like to talk to him.”

           
She nodded. “Sure. Don't be too long, sweetheart. He needs his
rest.”

           
I pushed myself away from the table and left the kitchen. I moved
quietly through the living room and to the furthest corner and
stopped outside the bedroom. I gently knocked and stuck my head
in.

           
“You're supposed to be resting,” I told him, stepping in and
shutting the door behind me. He was sitting up in bed, leaning over
a stack of papers, pen in hand, and looking like death.

           
“I needed to take my mind off-”

           
“I understand.” I took a seat on the corner of the mattress and
stared at him for a moment. “Listen...I know you're tapped out and
the last thing you need to hear is another lecture about how it
wasn't your fault. I just wanted to let you know that, if you ever
want to talk, I'm here.”

           
He leaned back and rested his head on the headboard behind him.
“Why are you so wonderful?”

           
“I'm not.”

           
“Matter of opinion, kiddo,” he said, biting his lip.

           
“And
I'm
right,” I teased, happy to see some of his original
characteristics shining through.

           
“Is there a reason you're still here?” he asked, fighting to keep
his eyes open.

           
“You matter to me,” I admitted. “You're emotional health is
dwindling. You need a little extra love and care--”

           
“Gran has plenty of love--”

           
“I can leave--”

           
“No!” His eyes widened and he sat forward. “I don't want you to
go... I'm just saying... this is usually about the time the running
starts...”

           
“I'm sorry?”

           
“When the going gets tough,” he said. “Women don't like to have
their Christmas spirit killed by... unnecessary emotions, to say
the least.”

           
“Yeah, I walked in on that very fight today--”

           
“Did she leave him?”

           
“Mom? Leave Calvin? No way. He's a keeper. But she wasn't
happy...”

           
“
They never are
.”

           
He was obviously speaking from experience. “Who left you?”

           
“Huh?”

           
“You had your heart broken,” I said.

           
“No,” he said. “We'd only dated a few months. We weren't in
love.”

           
“So?”

           
“The moment that first flake of snow hit the ground... I'm not a
nice person this time of year,” he shook his head and wiped away a
single tear. “I hate Christmas, Steph.”

           
“
You hate what Christmas reminds you of
,” I corrected
him.

           
“No,” he remained adamant. “I hate the songs, the cheer, the trees,
the gift exchanges...”

           
“I don't believe that,” I said. “And Adriana seems to believe the
six-year-old boy who lost his parents thrived on the magic of the
holiday.”

           
“She told you?”

           
I nodded. “You need a tree.”

           
“No--”

           
“Decorations.”

           
“Forget it--”

           
“Candles, cookies, presents!”

           
“No, Steph,” he said. “I don't do Chri--”

           
“
You know what
?” I said, pointing my finger in his face.
“You are the most kind and caring person I've ever met. But
somehow, you're also the most stubborn. If you just applied your
fun-loving, goofy, childish attitude toward Christmas... you'd be
unstoppable.”

           
He managed a half-hearted smile. He looked at the papers in front
of him and threw his ink pen on top of the stack. “I hate grading
these essays...”

           
“Good,” I said, happy his mind was elsewhere. “Because we hate
doing them.”

Friday December 09

           
“Steph, sweetheart, wake up.”

           
“Go away.”

           
“Time for school, sweetie,” Adriana said.

           
“
Go away
...”

           
“Abcdef Ghijk,” she said sternly, snapping me awake immediately.
“Breakfast is on the table. Calvin will be here in ten minutes with
a change of clothes and your school bag.”

           
I rolled off the couch and trekked slowly to the bathroom outside
Alex's bedroom. Once inside, I shut the door and turned the sink
on, splashing cold water onto my face. I looked in the mirror and
couldn't help but smile. Here I stood, in a man's bathroom, wearing
his college tee-shirt and sweatpants after a long night of peaceful
sleep... My mother would be so proud.

           
I pulled my hair out of the bun and ran my fingers through it. I
wiped away a small smudge of makeup and stepped back to assess the
damage. After ruling myself as acceptable, I walked out of the
bathroom, bumping into Alex on the way.

           
“Steph,” he said, biting his lip. “Good morning-”

           
“....hi,” I managed. “I mean... hi....”

           
He looked better than he had the night before, though his eyes were
still bloodshot and his hair a little messy.

           
“Are you going to school?”

           
“Yeah,” I nodded, trying to knock myself out of his hypnotic
trance. “Just waiting on Cal to bring my things. I'm guessing
you're not-”

           
“Not today.”

           
“Good. You need to take the day to rest.” He nodded in agreement.
We stared at one another for several long moments, neither of us
knowing what to say next. “Oh,” I finally said. “Thanks for letting
me borrow some clothes last night-”

           
“No problem, it's the least I could do.”

           
Adriana turned out of the kitchen and glared at me. “Well, Steph, I
have good news and I have bad.”

           
“Okay?”

           
“The good news is my grandson was smart enough to bring your school
bag.”

           
“And the bad?”

           
“He forgot your clothes.”

           
Calvin poked his head out behind her. “Sorry...”

           
“It's fine,” I shrugged. “I'll run home-”

           
“There's no time,” Alex said, looking at the clock. “Class starts
in ten minutes.”

           
“
What
?”

           
“It's okay,” he said. “You look fine. Just wear what you have
on.”

           
“I can't go to school like this-”

           
“You don't really have much of a choice,” Adriana interjected.
“Clock's tickin! Calvin, get her to school.” She turned back to me.
“Have a good day, sweetheart.”

           
With a half-hearted wave to everyone in the room, I stepped out the
door, bag over my shoulder and glared in Cal's direction.

           
“Sorry,” he mumbled.

           
Five minutes later I rushed into the front doors of Webster Grove
High School and moved quickly down the hall to the English
classroom. The room was filling up one student at a time. I walked
to the usual desk and sat down with an effort to catch my
breath.

           
'Uh, Steph,” Bridget leaned forward. “What the heck are you
wearing, honey?”

           
“Looks to me like she made a last minute decision to spend the
night with a man and forgot to pack her own clothes,” Isaac said,
shaking his head. '
Tisk, tisk
.”

           
“
Thanks for the input
,” I glared at him. “I was running
late, Bridge.”

           
“Yeah, but even on your worst days you look better than-”

           
“Get off it,” I snapped.

           
Nate ran through the door just in the nick of time and grabbed his
seat. “Nice duds, Ghijk.”

           
“Shut up.”

           
The substitute teacher tried to lead class with the ease and
presence of our usual commanding teacher, but failed miserably. The
students were loud, obnoxious, and completely out of control. She
finally gave up trying to teach the lesson and sat down, ignoring
the noise and reading to herself.

           
“A sub again,” Bridget said. “Mr. Rivera must be super sick. He's
never missed a day before, let alone two in a row.”

           
“Whaddya think, Steph?” Isaac asked. “Is he sick?”

           
“
How should I know
?”

           
I distinctly remembered Isaac promising that my secret, whatever
that may be, was safe with him. Maybe that's not the case...

           
“Bridge,” Isaac leaned toward her.

           
“Hmm?”

           
“Would you be interested in coming to dinner tonight?”

           
She snapped her head and dropped her jaw. “Seriously?”

           
“Yeah-”