14. Can’t Take It Back

14

CAN’T TAKE IT BACK

WINTER WONDERLAND, MICHAEL BUBLé

Alex

“Are you having fun?” I ask Livie while we’re slow dancing. We’ve been at the gala for hours now. We had a delicious dinner and participated in the auction. I bid on some items, but the only two I won were an egg holder for my mom’s kitchen—it matches her decor perfectly—and a ridiculous teddy bear Livie said would be a perfect Christmas gift for Laurie. She said Laurie acts all grown but she’s a sucker for teddy bears, and Livie would love to bring her a giant one for her to snuggle with on the hard days of her treatment. I donated a signed football and I was shocked at how many people bid on it. At the end, it went to a couple who came to say hello in person. Apparently, I’m their son’s favorite player and he was heartbroken when I retired. We made plans for me to hang out with their son soon, and they left with giant smiles on their faces.

“It’s been an incredible night, Alex. I know you said people think you’re an ass, but really people love you.” She has her head laying on my chest and her chin tilted up to look at me.

“I think it’s the Livie effect—people are usually not this nice to me.”

“Oh, stop, is it the Livie effect or is it the fact you’ve been smiling all night? You’re so damn good looking Alex that you’re intimidating as fuck until you smile. I can guarantee that’s why people didn’t approach you before.”

“So, the Livie effect indeed.”

“What on earth, boy?”

“I only smile this much when I’m around you. So, yes, the Livie effect.” We continue swaying to the soft piano rendition of “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.”

“I want to talk about something,” I tell Livie. I’m hoping that since we’re in public, I can muster up the courage to tell her what I’m feeling for her. I don’t want to scare her off, obviously, but I think I need to tell her how much I love spending time with her and that I would love to continue this past Christmas Day.

Before I can say anything, she replies, “I know, I know. We need to make a plan for Christmas Eve. My mom is already asking a million questions and I really need to prepare you for it. I need her to believe this is real so she can back off and I can go back to my life. We should hang out tomorrow after my shift so I can give you the rundown of things.”

So I can go back to my life . I guess she doesn’t feel the same way. I thought for a moment that I saw the same things in her eyes that I’m sure mine are showing, but I guess I was wrong. Maybe where I thought I was seeing love, all I was seeing was lust.

“Yes, that sounds like a plan,” I reply in a clipped voice .

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this, but it’s almost over. At least, on your side, things seem to be looking up, right?” Livie asks as she lifts her head from my chest. Her eyes are searching for something in mine, and I wish I could just be brave and tell her: while social media wise they are looking up, if she disappears from my life in three days, things will be anything but fine.

“You didn’t drag me, Shortie. I offered,” I say.

“You know, I always assumed you called me Shortie because I’m short. But I’ve been meaning to ask if there was another reason,” she offers, biting her lower lip with a half-smile on her face.

“Remember when I said you smell like strawberries?” I ask and she nods. “You remind me of Strawberry Shortcake. Sweet, cute, vibrant, and you smell like it, too. So yeah, my own little shortcake.”

“You’re such a dork,” she teases, lowering her eyes and smiling to herself.

“We’ve established that already.”

The song ends and we walk back to our seats. Livie takes a sip of her red wine and I wish I could say I do something other than stare at her but I can’t. I’m a goner and in so much trouble. I need to figure out a way to be okay when the arrangement is over, but at this rate, I’m not sure it will happen.

“Do you want to go see what desserts they’re hiding in the kitchen?” she asks.

“What? No, we already had dessert,” I reply with confusion.

“Yeah, but they always have good ones in hotel kitchens. Come on, let’s see what we can find.” Livie stands up, leaving her purse and her phone on top of the table, and I follow right behind her. She moves with ease through the hallways, pulling me behind her until we cross a door that says Staff Only. She keeps walking like she owns the place and nobody bats an eyelash at either of us. At the end of the dimly lit room, there are some silver double doors. She pushes through them and even though it’s pitch black, she keeps walking.

“Livie!” I say in half a whisper, half a shout.

“Shh, shh, come on. I’ve been here before. Don’t ask why, or how I know, but we’re almost there.” She hits something with her hip and shouts, “Fuck!” while stopping for a second before continuing.

“Are you okay?” I ask, not letting go of her hand but getting close to stopping her because this is crazy.

“Yeah, just a bump on the hip. Here, this way,” she directs, as she pulls me toward the small door at the back with light shining through a little window. She rattles the handle and after a hard yank, she opens the door. She pulls us both through and now we’re in the middle of what looks like an industrial pantry. No, not a pantry—more like a mix between a fridge and a pantry. It’s slightly cold on one side, but where we’re standing there are some boxes and shelf stable items.

“Come on, this way.” She drops my hand and walks toward the back where there’s another door and when she opens it, she gasps and says, “Score!”

I look up and see a selection of cakes, pies, and other desserts. She shoves half her body into the fridge, shuffling things around and mumbling something under her breath.

“Livie, is this even legal?” I ask, trying to contain my laughter at the sight in front of me.

“No, but who’s gonna know? Also, all these get thrown away after twenty-four hours. I highly doubt someone’s going to order all of these late into the night. AHA! Look!” she shouts, pulling a heart-shaped cake decorated with strawberries out of the fridge.

My jaw drops. “Is that…”

“Strawberry shortcake!” Livie shouts again. “Look! Look! It’s either that, or strawberry cheesecake, but either works.” She walks past me, setting the cake on the counter and opening some cabinets until she finds two measuring spoons. She hands me one and when I look at her suspiciously, she says, “Listen, this is the only thing I could find. But we will wash it before we’re done, okay?”

She dips the measuring spoon into the corner of the cake and after she scoops a piece out, she says, “Strawberry shortcake, indeed—it’s your lucky day.”

“You’re unbelievable,” I say, and I mean it in the most magical way. Like… where did she come from and how did I manage to cross paths with her?

“Unbelievably cute, right?”

“That for sure. Also, unbelievably amazing.”

She blushes at the compliment, taking a giant bite of the cake. She opens her mouth to say something but realizes she can’t chew and talk so she rolls her eyes at herself. I smile, taking a bite of my own and basking in this moment. Basking in the silence and her company.

Once she swallows, Livie immediately starts talking. “I don’t get it. You’re near perfect; why has nobody snatched you up? You say all the right things, do all the right things, look like that, and I’m pretty sure you’re a mama’s boy, too. You’re such a gentleman that there’s no way your mother didn’t have a say in that. I’m pretty sure she’s the one who lives in the bigger house back at your place, right?”

She’s observant and I like it. I could choose to avoid this conversation and try to get away with some bullshit excuse, but I choose bravery and tell her the truth. "My mom raised me all by herself. My dad—if you can even call him that—left her when she was pregnant with me. At just eighteen years old, she had to learn how to be an adult and raise a baby on her own. She worked endless odd jobs until I was old enough to go to school, and then she tried to work around my school schedule so she could still spend time with me. When I turned seven and made the Pop Warner football team, Mom smiled so big, it could’ve lit up the whole town. That night I heard her crying on the phone to her friend about how she didn’t know how she was going to pay for everything.” I take another small bite, letting the sweet taste of the cake bring me back to this moment and not to the memory I’m sharing. Livie stops looking at the cake and keeps her eyes on me, attentive to every word I say.

“I tried selling my clothes at school to help pay for stuff. And when the principal called my mom to tell her, she cried again. I was only eight years old but I felt awful because now she had cried not once, but twice, because of me. She always said that boys should bring girls flowers and smiles and no tears, so why was I bringing tears to my mom? When we got home that night, I told her I didn’t really like football that much, and that I’d rather do homework on the floor at her job than play. She saw right through my bullshit, of course, and what she did instead was call everyone she knew in town to see if they could sponsor me. Little did she know, Pop Warner offered scholarships, and one of the people she asked about sponsorship moved some things around and I was awarded a full one. It included everything, even transportation from school to practice. I refused to go until she told me. And after I found out I was so grateful that I never messed up. Not once.” I put the spoon down and slide to the floor, sitting with my back against the counter and my legs up. I was always told I looked like a mountain sitting like this, but I don’t really care because it’s so comfortable.

Livie grabs the cake and slides down next to me, laying her head on my shoulder. She stays silent, not knowing that her presence is so comforting, I don’t feel like I need to hide this from her.

“I studied and I did good in school and I played my heart out on the field. I wasn’t good, but I was dedicated. I had good sportsmanship and grit. It’s truly all you need to be good at anything. I was a little delusional, too, and I kept shooting for a shot at a college ball scholarship and hopefully helping my mom out some day. One thing led to another, and I ended up being drafted. What a wild ride it was. I always promised myself that the first thing I would do if I had a lot of money would be get my mom the house she always wanted and make it so she could retire. She let me build the house, but she likes working, so she still does. Her dream house was a farm, so I made it happen. And she always said she wanted me nearby, so when one day I gave her grandchildren, they wouldn’t be far. I built the in-law suite, not knowing it would become my sanctuary the past few years.”

“Okay, so I was right—you are perfect,” Livie whispers, wiping a tear off of her cheek. “I still don’t get it.”

“Well Liv, you know what happens when you lose your goals? Or, in my case, when you achieve them? I lost my north. So here I was, a professional football player with more money than I could count, and not knowing what the fuck to do. I felt so hollow and so empty. I decided partying was the way to fill my heart. Plot twist—it didn’t, it just drove me into a deeper hole. One harder to get out. So you see, sweet Livie, no matter how good-looking you are, how much money you have, or how good you are deep down… if you treat people like shit, they eventually leave you alone. The only reason I have friends is because my high school friends never gave up on me, even when I pushed them away.”

Livie takes my hand, puts it in her lap, and starts drawing small circles on the back. Letting me know she’s here and she’s listening.

“The only thing I didn’t play around with were drugs, because I knew they could end my career. But everything else was fair game. And God, now that I know better, I wish I could take it all back. I hurt so many people, Liv. So many.” I take a deep breath and continue because if I don’t, I might never tell her. “The day I got injured, my coach gave me an ultimatum. I didn’t even start the game because of how fucked up I’d been the game before. But the starting quarterback had a family emergency and left at halftime so I took his place. I didn’t even complete one play when someone hit me from the side at just the right angle that my femur snapped. I could see the bone almost pushing through. And, well, I already told you about the rest. I was messed up badly, and to add the injury to it, it was too much. I really didn’t want to live anymore, let alone try to get better. It took an intervention and my mom begging me to literally do anything to try and save her son. That’s what did it. I committed myself to an inpatient mental health facility. There, I met my therapist and found yoga. And here I am a few years later. I still need work, which is why I attend both yoga and therapy religiously. And, well, being in a relationship with someone just has not been in the plans. I needed to heal first before I dragged someone else down with me.”

Time moves both slow and fast at the same time. I feel my heart beat faster than usual, but with Livie’s eyes on mine, I feel like we’re suspended in the moment. “No taking it back now.”

“What?” she asks between sniffles.

“Calling me perfect, you can’t take it back.” I smile at her, trying to keep this moment light after the whole trauma dump.

“I could never take it back, especially after you sharing that with me. You’re so perfect, Alex. And the girl who gets to keep you will be the luckiest girl in the world,” she assures me with tears in her eyes.

I open my mouth to say something, but the door snaps open behind us and a security guard from the hotel walks through it. Livie lifts her hands and says, “Oop!” while the guard shakes his head and asks us to follow him.