Baby, it's cold outside! - 5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

"So, where's your infamous Christmas hat?" Kara grins while she walks beside me.

"Don't remind me. It's bad enough I have to schlep all your bags around the mall, or that I’m Christmas shopping with you," I grumble.

"Well, then you shouldn't lose a bet," she says haughtily.

"That was a trap, and you know it."

I have a strong feeling that she and Andreas ganged up against me by overruling me on playing Skat. I hate German card games.

"Whatever.” She waves her hand dismissingly. “You're my official shopping slave for one day, so bear with it."

"Hmpf."

After what feels like hours, I can't contain myself any longer.

"Kara! I'm starving, my feet hurt, I'm getting a headache. I need my coffee." I am officially whining, but I'm too exhausted to care anymore.

"Yeah, yeah, only one more shop. I need a pashmina shawl for my mom. Then I'm gonna feed you, okay? You'll get your fix, a.k.a coffee, and whatever you want. My treat."

Thank God for small things. "Thanks, Kara."

"It's only self-preservation. I won’t risk a serious slave revolt as long as I need you. There’s more shops to go to, more things to buy,” she sing-songs.

“Harpy.”

I almost like this new shop, though. It's one of those with comfortable chairs and couches for the shopping slaves. I go straight over to that area, drop all the bags at once, and let myself fall into one of these comfy plush chairs. Awww, much better. Kara and the shop assistant are already gushing over some ugly shawls. The colors remind me of vomit. Or mustard with a dash of swamp. Ugh. I let my gaze roam over the things they sell here, gloves, shawls, ties, caps, hats. I stop at a set of weirdly-sorted cashmere scarves. One large, the other small. The sign above says it's a parent and child set. They must be desperate to sell the stuff. What a strange idea. I hear Kara going on and on about how wonderfully smooth and fluffy the shawls are, and that she just can't decide which one she should choose. When I look at her again, she’s holding powdery pink with wavy swamp stripes in one hand and vomit mustard in the other. Is she for real? Then my gaze falls back to the cashmere scarves. The set on display is bright red. They also have green, yellow, black, and gray. Finally, I can't resist any longer and go over to take a closer look. They only have one set in bright blue. It would so match their eyes.

"Can I help you? Are you looking for a specific color?" The cheerful voice of another shop assistant almost startles me.

"I um… I'm just looking. Um… I like the bright blue set." What was that? Am I fucking serious?

"Oh, yes. It’s the only one that came in blue. Somehow there must have been a mistake with the order. The manufacturer supplied only this one set," he says, apologizing.

Only one… nah I don't believe in fate; I'm not superstitious. "Okay, I'll take it." Huh?

"Shall I gift wrap it for you?"

"Um…yes, that would be nice."

I can't believe it. I just bought a Christmas present for Peter and TT. That must be from the lack of food or something. I watch with rapt attention how the shop assistant almost artistically wraps the two boxes--in matching gift wrapping, of course--a little box and a larger one. It somehow reminds me of Mr. Bean in the movie, 'Love Actually'. Just when the guy is finished, Kara comes over, looking curiously at the two presents.

"So, what did you buy? I thought you said you were done?" She looks first at me and then at the shop assistant.

"Um, just a spontaneous idea I had…." Please don't tell her what I bought; please don't tell her. I look at the shop assistant pleadingly.

"Santa's secret." He smiles. Whew!

"Didn't you promise me food? I'm starving!"

"All right, all right, don't tell me!" She huffs and storms out of the shop.

"Kara! Wait! I haven't paid yet!" Sometimes she can be a real pain in the ass.

"I'll wait for you at the food court."

Finally. I'm just about to take a huge bite out of my hot pizza, the delicious aroma of oregano and melting cheese wafts over when Kara starts with the questions.

"So, what is it now with you and Peter?"

I almost choke on my saliva. "What?"

She looks at me as if she'd just asked me how I like my eggs in the morning. "Come on, Tris. You've seen him again, after six years. What did he want? Why did he come to the hotel?"

"He wanted to talk."

"Really now? I thought he wanted to start a new hobby with you. Felting perhaps?” She rolls her eyes. “And what did he want to talk about? Did he apologize?"

"He wanted to explain things… what happened six years ago."

"And?" she prompts.

"And what?"

"Tristan, don't be difficult! Gods!” She throws her hands up. “Did he have a good explanation for being an asshole?"

"Depends…."

"On?” She bends forward in her seat.

Shit. I don’t want to talk about this.

“Tristan! Quit being so frustratingly monosyllabic, damnit!" Kara finally exclaims.

"Don't you get it? I don't want to talk about it, okay? I understand why he did what he did now, but that doesn’t mean I agree with his reasoning. So…."

"Did he apologize to you?"

"Yes."

"Do you believe he’s sorry?"

"Yes."

"Does he have someone new?"

"I don't think so… no, actually he said he's looking for someone to share his new life with," I explain.

"Did he want to reconcile?"

"I think so."

"And?" She's tapping her fingernails on the table now.

"Geez Kara, if you don't stop it right now, you can look for someone else to be your mule. I said I do not want to talk about it anymore. Quit it!"

"You're awfully sensitive on this subject.”

“Because I fucked up too! Okay? If I had talked to him instead of jumping to conclusions, we might have had a chance, and that’s all I’m going say about it.”

“That doesn’t sound to me as if this has to be the end of the matter. Honestly, I think you still have feelings for him. I'm just saying. Maybe someday—" She's looking really smug now over her own reasoning.

"I can assure you that won’t happen. Ever. Can I have my coffee now?" I snap at her.

***

Standing in front of my dining room table, I look down at the two piles of presents. One I totally agree with. The other not so much.

I unwrapped the present I won at the toy store yesterday; it's the Captain-I-don't-know-what-it's-called-thingy Peter mentioned. At least I think so because I looked it up on the internet, and it's sold out everywhere. I could get tons of money for it if I’d sell it on eBay. But somehow, I can't do that. Peter said it was TT's only wish for Christmas. Maybe I'll send it to him anonymously.

I have to bake some more cookies and maybe a cake for this afternoon. It’s my turn to host the annual Christmas bash. Andreas, Kara, and Prof. Brunelli are coming over to celebrate our successful year.

TT is always on my mind lately. His only wish for Christmas—Santa is a major failure this year. He can’t grant you your wish, little man.

"Honestly, I think you still have feelings for him. I'm just saying." Kara's words are on a continuous loop in my head.

Usually, she knows me pretty well, but this time? She's just plain wrong! I slam the cupboard door closed. I told them everything a few days ago. They are my best friends. They earned the truth after listening patiently to my bitching and cursing out the douche for years.

As expected, they immediately, wholeheartedly agreed with me that I fucked up. Andreas still thinks it was more Peter’s fault than mine. “He was a spineless coward, Daddy’s good boy. After he met you, he should have realized what he had and risked his cushy future.”

Kara had a bigger problem with Peter sleeping with Kat. “Even though he was drunk. He was sober enough to consciously try the hetero thing. He wanted to hurt you with it.” Later she admitted he at least did good by TT.

I still can’t believe she said, “There’s a lingering spark.” And Andy had nodded!

This makes no sense. I have to solve this problem rationally. By deduction.

I go through the options and imagine I can’t have it...him. Or, no, even better, I imagine somebody else would have it-him. Yes. All right, Peter has somebody else. They take long walks holding hands, as we used to do. They wake up in the morning, cuddle, kiss, drink a quick coffee, and before the other guy leaves, Peter caresses his back, murmuring what they are going to do in the evening when they— while his hands…ugh. I feel like throwing up. I…don't think I like this option at all. I grab a kitchen chair and fall on it. Fuck! I'm jealous. I can't believe it; I'm jealous of a guy who doesn't exist! At least I hope so. Um….

A film plays in my head. All those things we were good at: working together at our home office; I'd be studying, he'd be going over a case. We did different things, but it was nice doing them together. Or shopping. I hate shopping, but with him it was fun. Or when he teased me about my flavored coffee obsession but bought me some of the strangest flavors like blueberry-vanilla, ugh, but somehow, in a strange way, it was good.

Could we have it again? Would it be as good as it was? Or better? He's much more in tune with himself now. He's out to his family, and he has TT now. It’s been six years. A lot has happened in our lives. We’ve changed. And he still wants me. And I said no! That's it, I said no. How should this work out anyway? He has his law firm over there; I work for the university here. It's a four-hour drive by car, at least. I have to stop! We moved on with our lives; all that is left are memories.

 Care to share your thoughts? I'm happy with anything, a reaction, a comment brief or long. Thank you for reading.
 @Valkyrie for making the chapter  sparkle.