Calendar Girl 12 - December Read online

  * * *

  I woke the next day still surrounded by Wes. He’d held me within the safety of his arms all night, never letting go. I blinked a few times and then saw Wes’s face up close and in living color. His breath came in soft puffs against me. Lifting my hand from between us, I ran the tip of my finger down the bridge of his nose. He stirred and lazily opened his eyes. Wes’s eyes were unlike any others. They were a brilliant green, much like fresh cut grass. He smiled softly, leaned forward the few inches that separated us, and kissed my nose.

  “How you doing?” His voice was a deep rumble I felt all the way to my toes.

  I could lie and tell him I was fine, but he’d know I wasn’t telling the truth. He’d give that to me, though. That was the type of man he was. However, I was done hiding my hurts, done keeping the wall surrounding my heart up around him. The only person who deserved that treatment was my loser of a mother. It didn’t change that I wished things had been different though. Ached for them to be different.

  Growing up, a girl needed her mother. Someone who could be there to kiss her wounds, mend her heart when a boy has broken it, teach her about being a woman the world can be proud of, and most of all, teach her how to be a mother, how to care for another soul more than her own.

  “I’m not okay, Wes,” I admitted. It took a lot for me to bare my soul, but I’d do that for him, the one person in the entire world who loved me more than he loved himself. I knew that with my whole heart.

  “Yeah, I didn’t imagine you would be. What’s going on in here?” He pointed to my forehead.

  I closed my eyes, relishing his simple touch. For me, it was more than a gesture. It was a connection. Something tangible that I could grasp, hold on to when everything around me felt as though it were crumbling at the seams.

  “Seeing her in her gallery. Looking perfect. Healthy…” I shook my head and gripped his hand between us and put it in front of my mouth.

  “It hurts that she’s moved on. Was living a good life when you and your siblings had to suffer by her loss. You and Madison especially. I get it, babe.” His voice was soft and understanding.

  I lifted his hand to my mouth and kissed each knuckle.

  “Why does it hurt so badly?” Tears formed in my eyes and slipped down my cheeks.

  “Because no matter what she did, how bad she hurt you, she’s still your mom. You love her.”

  I inhaled sharply. “You can’t love a ghost.”

  “Oh, baby, but you can. And you do. I can see it written all over your face, and you know what?”

  “What?” I sniffed. I didn’t want to give that woman even one more tear.

  “It’s okay to love her. Even when she’s hurt you so horribly.”

  And the tears came stronger. I couldn’t hold them back, be the strong Mia I was to everyone else. “Is it? A woman who left me to care for myself and my sister when I was ten?”

  “Your dad had a hand in that, sweetheart. If you’re throwing down blame, he’s earned it, too.”

  I huffed. “She singlehandedly destroyed him.” I shook my head. “You should have seen him before she left. Doting father, committed husband. He worshiped the ground that woman walked on. And for what? To be left in the dust like so much garbage. She ruined our family. Not only that…she ruined Max’s, too.” I choked on a sob.

  Wes’s chin dipped down. “I don’t think that’s true. Max is one of the most loving men I know. Overtly so. He took you and Madison and made you part of his family within mere minutes of finding out you were related. That speaks a lot about the kind of man Jackson Cunningham was. He gave his son everything he could even though he didn’t have a mother. Loved him. Taught him how to love. Max carried that knowledge with him. Loves his wife, children, and his sisters. He may have lacked a mother, but his life was far from ruined.”

  I mulled over what Wes said. He was right, of course. Jackson Cunningham may have loved my mother greatly and been hurt by her leaving, but he carried on. Took care of his son, taught him how to be a man. A good man. The best. Showed him the importance of family.

  “I need to talk to Max and Maddy.”

  Wes shifted and curled me into his chest. “They are going to be here in two days. Do you really want to call and worry them now?”

  “Max will be pissed if I don’t,” I said.

  Wes grinned. “Now, that is true. He has a hair trigger when it comes to you and Maddy. What are you going to say?”

  I shook my head and leaned into him. “I don’t know. The truth. He deserves that much. Then he can decide how he wants to deal.”

  “And what about your mother.”

  I cringed. “What about her?”

  “Are you going to talk to her again? Something doesn’t sit right about last night. She seemed surprised to see you, apologetic, and kept mentioning you not knowing the whole story.”

  “Probably because she doesn’t like having to face what she’s done.”

  Wes sighed. “Maybe. I don’t know. She fell to the floor pretty quick. Seemed to crack and break on a level you don’t see often, even when faced with a difficult confrontation.”

  “Who knows? She’s probably trying to tell herself that she had a good reason to leave us. All of us. I’m going to tell you right now, I won’t buy it. There’s nothing she can say that will make me forgive what she put us through. Nothing.”

  * * *

  The phone rang four times, which was unusual for Max. He was one of those that kept his cell in his back pocket, and I knew he wasn’t working.

  Finally, on the fifth ring, he picked up. A screaming baby could be heard in the background.

  “Hold on, hold on…your nephew is hollerin’ down the neighborhood. Kid shit himself up his entire back. His back, Sis. Shit all the way up to his hairline. Now how the hell did he do that?” Max yelled through the phone.

  I gathered pretty quickly that I was on speaker, and I waited while I heard Max pass off the munchkin to Cyndi. Total dick move. I smiled for the first time since I’d seen our mother yesterday.

  “He shit himself up his back!” he reiterated.

  “So what do you want me to do about it? Clean your son!” Cyndi shot back, and I laughed.

  “Cyndi, love of my life, I will pay you a million dollars to clean our son,” Max pleaded.

  “Your money is my money, or did you forget that?” she growled back, sounding rather irritated.

  This was deteriorating into a domestic situation I did not need to be a part of, nor did I want to. “Guys, how about you call me back.”

  “Mia, honey, is that you?” Cyndi said.

  “Yeah, hi! Sorry for interrupting. I needed to talk to Max about something uh…pretty important, but he can call me back when he’s dealt with baby Jack.”

  I heard her sigh. “No, no. Fine. Max. I’ll take our son, but you so have diaper duty for two days straight!” she fired at him.

  There was a bunch of crackling noise, and then I heard Max alone. He must have turned off the speaker. “Sugar, this better be good. Diaper duty with a boy like Jackson is horrid. It’s like something crawled up in that kid and died a foul death every time I have to change him. It’s awful.”

  Not wanting to make him wait, coupled with the fact that my nerves were ready to burst, I blurted out what I needed to say. “I found our mother.”

  The line went quiet for a solid minute. “Did you talk to her?”

  “If by talk you mean yell, berate her, and slap her face, yes, I think it would be safe to say I spoke with our mother.”

  “Where did you find her?” he asked.

  I laughed for emphasis not because it was funny. “Get this. She’s one of the local artists I was sent to interview in Colorado.”

  “She’s in Colorado?”

  “In this very town. Yes.”

  “Christ on a cross,” he whispered.

  “Yes, exactly.” I blew out a harsh breath.

  “Are you okay?” His tone held genuine concern, and I loved him for
it.

  I thought about lying, telling him I was fine, the same way I’d mulled it over with Wes this morning in bed, but I couldn’t do it. He deserved more than that. He deserved honesty. “No, I’m not. I’m not sure how to deal with this. It’s been fifteen years in the making.”

  “Try thirty for me,” he said, somberly.

  “Oh, Max, I’m sorry. We need to deal with this together. When you get here this weekend, we’ll talk, figure out what we’re going to do with this information.”

  “You think I’m letting you deal with this tsunami alone? I’ll be there tomorrow at the latest. I’ll pack up the family and come a few days early.”

  “Max, really, it can wait.” I tried to rationalize even though I’d wanted him there more than anything.

  “You hurting?” he asked.

  I sighed. “Max, you know I am. This was a blow.”

  “Then, I’m there. ’Nuff said. Now let me talk to my wife. We’ve got some packing to do. Our rooms ready or we need a hotel?”

  Instant relief swept across me. “I love you, Max. Like, really love you.”

  “Darlin’, you know I love you. This is a family matter, and if one of us is having a hard road, the others need to drive. Now, will my room be ready or do I need to get a hotel, sugar?”

  I swallowed down the lump of stress that coated my throat. “It’s all ready for you and the family. Wes even ordered a bassinet for Jack. He had the caretaker put it in your room. There’s a foldout for Isabel too.”

  “Sounds peachy. Mia, don’t you worry anymore ’bout this. I’ll be there tomorrow. Family matters we handle together, okay, Sis?”

  “Family matters are handled together. Got ya, Maximus,” I repeated, believing every single word.

  He chuckled. “Okay. Call Maddy and find out if she wants to come early. If so, I’ll have my plane stop in Vegas before heading to Colorado.”

  Of course, Max would be the voice of reason in all this. Following his directions to the letter, I called Maddy and told her what was happening. She was just as shocked as I was. She and Matt agreed to take a couple days off school and come out early, since it was Christmas break from school anyway. I told Maddy to call Max and confirm the date and time of the airport pick up.

  Then I went in search of my sanity—in the form of a movie-making surfer turned mountain cabin guy. I found him in the kitchen making breakfast.

  “What do you want to do today?” Wes asked while flipping pancakes onto a nearby plate.

  “Let’s hit the slopes,” I suggested, needing to feel the air rushing through my hair, the chill on my face, and the speed of the slopes reminding me I was alive. That this too would pass.

  My family was on their way, and together, we’d deal with the one woman who had broken each of us in a way that could never be mended or forgotten.

  Chapter Six

  “Are you going to tell me what we’re doing tromping through the woods around the cabin in the snow?” I said, tugging my beanie farther down over my ears. My hair was tied at the nape and hanging over one side. Otherwise, the beanie would have already fallen off. Hair like mine didn’t appreciate an attempt at being tamed.

  Wes grinned and grabbed my hand, pulling me through the crunching snow. In his other hand, he was dragging a sled that carried a brown zip-up duffle. “What time did you say Max and Madison will be here?” he asked, dodging the question.

  I followed him over a log from a long-forgotten fallen tree. “This evening, around six or so. Why?”

  “Well, if they are coming to celebrate Christmas, don’t you think we should have a proper Christmas tree?” His breath was labored as he let go of my hand and the sled and jogged up a small hill.

  A tree. A real Christmas tree. I hadn’t had one of those in as far back as I could remember. I wasn’t sure Maddy had ever had one. It’s not something a family strapped for cash worried about having. Due to the circumstances, we never bothered to push the issue. We were more concerned about eating dinner than having a tree. Hell, I had to break it to Maddy at five years old that Santa Claus was indeed a ruse. There would be no presents under our non-existent tree from a magical jolly fat man. Maddy and I had taken to making each other homemade presents. When we got older, we’d do a little more. Exchange a gift or two, but nothing extravagant.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” Wes asked, his head tilted and his expression concerned.

  I shrugged. “I’ve never had a tree before.”

  “You’ve never had a Christmas tree?” The shock was evident in the way his mouth hung open, the frosty puffs of air billowing around him. He nodded curtly. “Remind me to punch your father in the face when he’s up and walking around,” he said on an exasperated growl.

  Then he quickstepped down the hill, grabbed my hand, helped me up, and pointed off in the distance. “See those? They would be perfect for a Christmas tree.”

  Beyond the clearing was a section of smaller pine trees. Almost as if they had their own personal Christmas tree farm up here. “And how do you propose we get it out of the ground?”

  Wes chuckled. “We cut it, sweetheart. Now, come on.” He picked up the rope for the sled, and together we went down the hill to get a better look at the trees. Each tree was at least seven feet tall and enormous.

  “I don’t know about this. Killing a tree for decoration doesn’t seem right. Maybe we should buy an artificial one?”

  Wes scoffed. “Nonsense. This is our first Christmas together. Your first with your brother and my family as well. Together, we’re going to make it special. And to do that, we need a proper tree. So pick one out.” He held his hands out wide.

  Wes had a solid point. I’d never had a tree before, or at least one that I could recall. We were making amazing memories and traditions as a couple along with our extended family. The excitement about creating new memories wiggled its way into my subconscious, destroying any future concern over the environment and the loss of a single tree in a forest of thousands.

  For several minutes, I circled around each tree. After I’d discarded a good ten or so, I found the perfect one. It was mighty, green, and smelled of the Earth. Its branches were separated equally in a way that would allow ornaments to display beautifully. The tree had my attention and I stared, imagining it with colored bulbs, lights, and Christmas flair.

  Wes came up to me and hooked his arm around my shoulder. “This the one?”

  I grinned at my guy and nodded. “This is the one.”

  Wes leaned forward and kissed my cheek. Before he could back away, I took his head and kissed him soundly on the mouth. It was long, deep, and so very wet. His tongue danced with mine, taking as much as giving. He licked into my mouth, stirring an excitement inside me that had taken a back seat after seeing my mother. That excitement was back in full force, and all because of the love of this man.

  “I love you,” I said, our lips still touching.

  He smiled against my mouth. I could feel his teeth move when he said, “I love you more. Now let’s cut down our tree, shall we?”

  “How?” I looked at the sled.

  Wes went to the bag, unzipped it, and pulled out an axe. He took off the plastic protector on the blade’s edge and tossed that back on the bag.

  “You’re seriously going to do this.”

  He frowned. “What? You don’t think I can?”

  “Oh, I’m sure you can. Just seems like a lot of work.”

  “Mia, my love, anything worth having is worth working for.”

  And on that note, he swung the axe and slammed the blade right into the base of the tree. The tree shook, snow globs and pine needles falling with every new strike.

  While Wes chopped at our Christmas tree, I pulled out my phone and took his picture. Then I sent it to Ginelle.

  To: Skank-a-lot-a-Puss

  From: Mia Saunders

  How much wood could a woodchuck chuck?

  Within seconds, my phone dinged.

  To: Mia Saunders

>   From: Skank-a-lot-a-Puss

  If a woodchuck would chuck wood? Well, I can’t say exactly. Samoan wood, I’d gather about 8.

  To: Skank-a-lot-a-Puss

  From: Mia Saunders

  8 what?

  To: Mia Saunders

  From: Skank-a-lot-a-Puss

  Inches dumbass. Has the snow frozen your brain?

  To: Skank-a-lot-a-Puss

  From: Mia Saunders

  You’re a nasty bitch.

  To: Mia Saunders

  From: Skank-a-lot-a-Puss

  Takes one to know one. Besides, you’re the one who sent me a pic of a man chucking wood. ;-)

  I snort laughed. Flipping Ginelle. I shook my head, giggling. Such a character. It reminded me that I hadn’t yet updated her on the finding of my mom issue. She’d be rightly pissed off and have a whole host of evil things to say. Probably why I hadn’t called her yet. I would. Just, after. After what? I didn’t know. I figured I’d come to that answer along the way. She could be pissed at me later. But with Gin, even if pissed, she’d forgive me, understand, and love me anyway. That’s what best friends did. She knew all the ugly, pretty, and in-between and loved me anyway. Same way I loved her.

  “What are you laughing about?” Wes asked.

  His breathing was labored. Sweat moistened his brow and dripped down his temple. A man hard at work. For me. Trying to make my holiday memorable.

  I shook my head. “Nothing. Just Gin.”

  “She doing okay?”

  I grinned, knowing exactly what, or should I say whom, was doing Gin just fine. Made me wonder what was going to happen when Tao went back to Hawaii. Would she want to follow? Knowing Ginelle, she wouldn’t leave Malibu so soon after we’d gotten her a job and given her a place to live, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t want to. Something I’d have to talk to her about…among other things.

  “Fine, fine. She’s with Tao, remember?”

  He frowned. “Who’s Tao, again?”

  “My friend Tai’s brother. She met him in Hawaii.”

  Wes picked up the axe again, swung it hard right in the center of the big gaping wound he’d cut into the tree already. “You mean client number five.” His voice was now devoid of emotion.