Changing Seasons

Fifty-Five

****

Brooke was seated tensely on the large leather sectional, legs and arms crossed, her eyes glued to the twinkling lights of the Christmas Tree.

Atira felt awful the young woman was alone.

"Hey, Brooke." She smiled warmly as she sat neatly on the opposite end of the sofa. "You know, you don't need to be here alone," she told her kindly.

"I'm fine, I promise," Brooke replied, tightening her arms as though hugging herself.

"I don't think Krist introduced us, by the way. I'm Atira."

"Brooke," She said, giving a small wave from her self-hug.

One thing Atira had been born with was a warm personality. It was rare that she couldn't coax someone out of their shell, regardless of how closed off they were.

Within minutes, Atira had gotten Brooke talking and even laughing. She wasn't stuck up, just painfully shy, a little nerdy and awkward.

She learned Brooke, like herself, had attended a private all-girls academy in high school. Her family was devout Catholics, whereas Atira's had only sent her to the Catholic academy because it was an all-girls school.

She and Brad were each other's first kisses and relationships. They'd met during a study group and hit it off. Brooke also enjoyed hiking and yoga. She even had a beloved Persian cat, Percy. The two women exchanged photos of their cats, bonding over their love of their fur babies.

"How did you and Krist meet, if you don't mind me asking?" Brooke asked.

Atira traced a fingertip along the rim of her wine glass, "Believe it or not, through Brad," she smiled.

Brooke tilted her head, a curious smile playing upon her lips. She was stunning with her ivory complexion, thick brown hair, and slightly upturned green eyes framed by lush black lashes that Atira was envious of. Her nose was dainty and feminine, lips full with a warm, broad smile. "Brad never mentioned that to me."

"Yes, he and I were in debate class together and had this final project to work on. I came over after school, met Krist, and totally fell head over heels for him. He was my first love." she laughed, her cheeks flushed from the wine and embarrassment.

"Ah, so you two dated in high school?"

Atira nodded, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, "Up until I moved away, we did."

"Well, I am glad you two were able to reconnect," Brooke smiled.

Rocco climbed up on the couch, leaning against Atira. "You think we can open presents soon?" he asked with a yawn.

She brushed his hair from his eyes, "I'm sure it will be soon."

Rocco slid off the couch, "I'm gonna go find my Grandpa," he announced before skipping off.

"Are you two planning on having kids?" Brooke wanted to know.

Atira hid her grimace with a smile, "Someday, I'm sure, but not anytime soon. How about you?"

Brooke pulled her blazer tight around her, crossing her legs. "I would love to have kids. We have been trying for a few years and no luck yet," she replied wistfully. "We might end up going the IVF route if it doesn't happen in the next year or two."

Attira's face softened, "I'm so sorry to hear that," she murmured.

"It's been a journey so far. I'm not sure if being on prolonged birth control affected my fertility or what. I remember taking sex ed in school and thinking pretty much as soon as you and a man...you know, without birth control..bam! Pregnant!" Brooke gave a light laugh. "Apparently, that's not entirely true. Meanwhile, people who never should have become parents keep having children." A hint of bitterness filled her voice.

Atria nodded sympathetically. She wondered if Brad and Brooke had felt some type of way when they'd learned of Krist's surprise child. She rationalized that it had to have felt like a blow while they were struggling for a very wanted pregnancy while Krist fathered a child from a one-night stand.

"Have you looked into your employer's benefits to see if they offer any sort of assistance for fertility treatment? I know it's become more common to have. My company offers a seventy-five thousand dollar allowance towards fertility treatments and adoptions."

Brooke nodded, "Brad and I both work for companies that offer it and have money in savings for it if we end up going that route. He's been really wanting to pursue the treatments, but I worry about how it will affect my body, you know?"

Atria took a sip of her wine and swallowed, "I've heard it can be rough," she told her sympathetically.

****

The evening was chilly but clear as Krist sat on the back deck with Kali and Patrick, sharing a blunt with them. He watched the lights of planes taking off and landing across the river at PDX. He had yet to tell them what he'd caught Brad doing and wasn't sure he would.

Krist felt disappointment, anger, and even shame over it. He talked a lot of shit about Brad and, at times, did wish ill on him out of jealousy or spite, but deep down, he did care. Addiction fucking sucked. It destroyed lives and ripped apart families.

Indeed, his brother had to understand the repercussions of his drug use. He had seen Krist and their father both in active addiction. Did he not care?

"You are awfully quiet over there," Kali said, a breeze blowing through her thick locks of hair.

Krist covered his mouth and coughed as he passed the blunt to Patrick. "Just thinking 'bout something," he replied.

"You good?" she wanted to know.

He nodded and picked off a random cat hair from his black shirt. Damn cat.

Bill poked his head out of the sliding glass door and wrinkled his nose when it was hit with a whiff of weed smoke. "We are opening presents," he announced.

The trio filed into the warmth of the house, following Bill into the living room. Krist sat beside Atira and wrapped his arm around her, "Love you," he whispered and kissed him.

"Love you, too," she whispered back before diverting her attention to Linda, who stood at the tree with Rocco.

Linda handed Rocco each gift, telling him who it belonged to. Rocco delivered the gifts, telling each person whether or not they were on the naughty or nice list. Of course, Rocco, being Rocco, only declared Krist to be on the naughty list and served him up with a knuckle sandwich.

"Thanks, bro," Krist chuckled, "Santa is still watching you, by the way. Christmas ain't til tomorrow."

Rocco's eyes widened, "Okay, okay, you're on the nice list!"

"That's what I thought," he told him, smirking at Atira.

As Rocco continued to pass out the colorfully wrapped packages, his eyes panned to Brad, who sat stiff, almost mannequin—like beside his wife as if he thought it would make him look less spun. Brad's eyes caught Krist's for a split second before diverting to the floor.

"Happy Christmas, Uncle Brad," Rocco told him, placing a present in his hands.

"Thanks, Roc. Merry Christmas," he replied, hugging him.

Krist's jaw tightened. He didn't want Brad near Rocco like that, let alone touching him. That shit comes out of your pores, out of your sweet. All he could think of was Brad's dope sweat getting on his son. Atira felt Krist's arm go rigid around her. She glanced up at him. He stared at Brad with the intense look of a protection-trained dog who'd locked eyes on its target. His eyes flashed dark and hot.

"Babe," Atira whispered, squeezing Krist's thigh, "You okay?"

His eyes met hers, and he smiled wryly, "Yeah, baby," he kissed her on the side of the face again. She could feel his grasp ease up, his body relaxing.

Linda exchanged a questioning look with her as if she'd also noted the look on her son's face. There would absolutely be a conversation on the ride home.