Anton Page 9

I can’t help it; I peek out the doorframe and watch her ‘til she steps on the elevator. Then I close the door and walk back into the living room, sitting down on the couch.

  “So you wanna bang my nurse,” Uncle Dix says.

  I glare at him. “Funny how you’re hard of hearing when I tell you to wait for one goddamn second, but you can hear whispered conversations across the apartment when you’re eavesdropping.”

  “You want some of that chocolate milk.” He laughs and slaps the arm of his chair.

  “Fuck you. Don’t talk about her that way.”

  “She’s a pistol.” Uncle Dix sounds impressed.

  “You better treat her right.”

  He puts up both hands. “She don’t need you lookin’ out for her, Anton. That girl’s gonna make sure I treat her right.”

  I give him a skeptical look.

  “She wouldn’t give me any bacon cause I called her a bitch!” he says with a cackle.

  “Mia? You called Mia…you son of a bitch.”

  “She ate my bacon!”

  “You shouldn’t be eating bacon anyway.”

  “So instead of getting me a real nurse, you’re just paying the chick you want to bone.” He shakes his head. “Hell of a note.”

  “I can’t find a single nurse willing to put up with your bullshit. The agency even called and said they weren’t sending any more nurses over. And Mia is more than capable. Plus she needs the money.”

  “To get all dolled up for you to bang her?”

  “Will you stop saying that?”

  Dix shrugs. “It’s true.”

  “I’m not trying to bang her. She’s married.”

  “Oh.” His eyes light up. “My choirboy nephew’s tryin’ to bang a married woman?”

  I point at him. “You’re an asshole. Keep it up and I’ll stop DVRing Jeopardy.”

  “Now you sound like your girlfriend. Denying an elderly man his few pleasures in life.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend.”

  “Well, she missed her calling as a prison guard,” he grumbles.

  My phone buzzes with a text, and I look down at the screen. “Huh. Looks like Alexei’s gonna be here for Christmas.”

  “Tell him to bring me a bottle of good bourbon. None of that cheap shit.”

  I toss my phone onto the couch. “How about a walk before dinner?”

  Dix scowls. “I’m in a wheelchair, numb nuts.”

  “I’ll push you. Unless you piss me off, then I’ll just leave you on a corner.”

  “Bah,” he waves a hand dismissively. “It’s winter, I’ll freeze my balls off.”

  “I’ll put a blanket over you. Come on, the fresh air will do you good.”

  “Fresh?” He balks. “It smells like car exhaust and old sausage out there!”

  “You haven’t been outside in a while.” I get up and roll his wheelchair over.

  “Bunch of bullshit,” he mutters. “Don’t be surprised if I die of hypothermia.”

  “Quit your bitching and I’ll order you some of that pistachio ice cream you like.”

  He’s silent after that. Uncle Dix is a surly old bastard, but he loves ice cream.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Mia

  * * *

  Grandpa’s eyes light up when he opens the big tin of chocolate covered peanuts I bought from his favorite candy shop.

  “Thank you, young lady,” he says, setting the box next to the one he just opened that contains a new scarf and pair of gloves.

  “You’re welcome. I thought you might like to share those with Millie.”

  “Oh, I will.” His smile fades. “But I didn’t get you anything for Christmas.”

  “I have everything I want already. Just getting to spend time with you is the best gift anyway.”

  He smiles and shakes his head. “I’m just an old man. You should be out having fun with your friends.”

  “I want to be here.” I reach across the table we’re sitting at in the Goodman House lounge and cover his hand with mine. “You’re very important to me.”

  “I am?”

  I want so badly to tell him why.

  Because you never saw me as a burden. You raised me as your own daughter, playing with me and helping with homework on evenings when you were probably exhausted from days of manual labor. You taught me how to ride a bike and throw a punch. You loved me and grandma with your whole, huge heart.

  I can’t say those things, though. It’ll confuse and upset him.

  “You remind me so much of my grandpa,” I say instead. “He was the best man I’ve ever known.”

  Our lunch of roast beef, mashed potatoes and green beans is delivered to our table right then. I asked the staff on the way to Grandpa’s room if they’d deliver it to us here in the lounge so I could have some time alone with him. But he immediately picks up on the change in his routine and gets agitated.

  “No, I don’t eat here,” he tells the woman trying to unload our plates from a rolling cart. “Where’s Millie? I always eat with my Millie.”

  “It’s okay,” I tell the woman with the cart. “We’ll go into the dining room and sit with Millie.”

  “Someone got confused,” Grandpa says to me. “I don’t eat here.”

  “We’ll move.”

  He gives me a wary look. “Don’t you have family you should be with today? It’s Christmas.”

  My heart aches. I feel the actual, physical soreness of it. The grandpa I knew and loved so fiercely isn’t here anymore. But I have to make due with what’s left—it’s better than nothing.

  “I’m just staying for lunch,” I tell him. “I have plans later for dinner.”

  “You got a fella buying you something pretty for Christmas?”

  I shake my head and offer him my arm as he eases up from his seat at the table. “No. My husband and I aren’t on good terms. I wish he’d give me a divorce for Christmas.”

  Grandpa’s face falls. “I’m sorry about that.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No.” He shakes his head adamantly. “The measure of a man is in how happy his woman is. You can take that to the bank.”

  I smile at the glimmer of the grandpa I know and love. He said that often, telling his friends to man up and apologize to their wives to restore peace to their households. And there was never a happier woman than my grandma.

  Millie is waiting at the usual table she and my grandpa share in the dining room. She’s beaming, dressed in a sparkly red sweater and Christmas tree earrings. When grandpa kisses her cheek, I get a warm sense of peace.

  He’s happy here. Well-cared for. Whatever I have to do to keep him at Goodman House is worth it. He sacrificed much more for me than I ever will for him.

  After my visit with him, I pick up a few last-minute things and then Anita, Dre and I take an Uber to Anton’s. I still feel wary about us being here—it’s Anton’s family, after all.

  I think Anita must feel the same way; she’s clutching Dre’s hand and cautioning him about breaking things the entire elevator ride up to Anton’s floor. I didn’t tell her about the literal mountain of toys Anton bought before Dre came over here for the first time.

  When Anton opens the front door, though, my worries vanish. Christmas music and laughter float out of the apartment. He looks relaxed and happy in a blue and grey flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, worn jeans and brown boots.

  “Merry Christmas,” I say, smiling awkwardly.

  I want to step forward and hug him, but the last time I hugged him, it affected us both. Anton and I need to stay hands-off.

  “Merry Christmas, guys,” he says, reaching out to take the bags I’m carrying.

  He steps aside and Alexei approaches immediately, taking Anita’s bags. I introduce everyone and Alexei gives me a knowing look as he greets me, making me wonder what Anton said about me.

  “We brought mac and cheese,” I tell Anton. “And cookies.”

  “Perfect.”

  He told me we didn’t ne
ed to bring anything, but Anita wasn’t having that.

  “You should’ve called me; I would’ve come down to the car to carry all this up for you,” he says.

  “Nah, we had it.”

  A girl and a boy, both older than Dre, sweep him away to play in another room. Anton pours drinks for me and Anita and soon I find myself sitting at the end of the long sectional, next to Dix’s recliner.

  “Merry Christmas,” I say.

  He groans in the way I’ve come to expect. “Suppose you brought me some watery oatmeal to eat during dinner.”

  I roll my eyes and laugh. “I think we both know you’ve been eating quite well.”

  He quirks his lips up in a rare smile. Since that first day, Dix hasn’t called me a foul name even once. We’ve had bacon and eggs—and once, donuts I snuck past Anton in my bag—at the kitchen table every morning.

  Laura Carr sits down next to me and pats my knee. “I can’t thank you enough for putting up with my brother,” she says.

  “Dix?” I smile innocently. “He’s been a perfect gentleman.”

  She laughs at that. “Oh, I know him better than that.”

  She’s a petite woman with short silver hair and a warm smile. Her husband Martin is tall, with broad shoulders and a baseball cap that boasts two side-by-side NHL logos—the Blaze and the Comets.

  They’re both every bit as proud of Anton and Alexei as they are their biological daughter; I can tell that right away. If I didn’t know Anton and Alexei weren’t their children by blood, I’d never guess otherwise.

  And Alexei is every bit the polar opposite of his brother. He throws back eggnog, many shots of Grey Goose and several beers. He’s irreverent and jolly, trading dirty jokes with Dix and playing on the floor with the kids.

  It’s seeing Anton on the floor with Dre, though, that gets me. Dre asked him to join us for tea, and Anton looks serious as he accepts a pretend cup from Dre.

  “Is it still hot?” he asks him.

  “No, you dwink,” Dre responds.

  Anton pretends to lift the mug up to his lips and sip. Then his eyes widen and he howls.

  “It’s too hot! Oww, my tongue is on fire! Get me some ice water, Dre, quick!”

  Dre’s giggle turns into a belly laugh as he pretends to pass Anton another cup.

  “This one’s too cold!” Anton protests. “You just froze my lips together, man.”

  He tries to talk through pursed lips and Dre laughs harder than I’ve ever seen him laugh.

  The other kids, Julia and Connor, run over to join in the fun. They’re Martin and Laura’s daughter Lindsey’s kids, and when they start climbing on Anton and Alexei and calling them “uncle,” I almost feel breathless.

  This is what’s been missing from my life for so long. Warmth. Love. Joy. I see all of those things in Anton’s eyes as he interacts with his family.

  And as amazing as it feels, it makes my heart hurt so badly I have to get up and go into the bathroom. I lean against the walls and take a few deep breaths.

  If I can ever get out of my marriage to Adam, which won’t happen anytime soon, I can see myself with Anton. If we were single at the same time, I’d be very interested in dating him.

  But if he knew the truth about me, he wouldn’t see me the way he does now. The shine would fade from his eyes if I told him I can’t have children. And after seeing him with Dre and his nieces and nephews, I’m sure he wants a family.

  How could he not? He’s worked hard for everything he has; now he can give his children the world. Anton is so big-hearted. I have a feeling he’ll be a great father one day.

  I dab the corners of my eyes with a tissue and pull my emotions together. I’m walking down the apartment’s main hallway to return to the festivities when my phone buzzes in my pocket with an incoming text.

  Anytime I get a call or a text, I check it immediately in case it’s about my grandpa. This one isn’t, but it knocks the wind out of me all the same.

  Adam: Where the fuck are you? I know you quit your job and you’re not at your shithole apartment either.

  I just stare at the screen, the all-too familiar sense of dread racing down my spine. He just never quits. Adam started to get off on being mean to me a few months after we got married. I still remember the first time so clearly. I’d gone to one of his games in a Blaze sweatshirt and jeans and he confronted me late that night, after he got home from going out with some teammates.

  “You looked like you took a break from cleaning the goddamned house to come to my game tonight,” he said. “It’s embarrassing. Spend more than five minutes getting ready next time.”

  I was so ashamed. I’d felt like a cute, supportive wife in my new jeans, my hair back in a ponytail. Knowing he was embarrassed by me made me want to crawl away and hide.

  Another text comes in.

  Adam: I’ll find you, and I’ll beat the shit out of whatever guy you’re fucking. You’re my wife.

  Bile starts rising up the back of my throat. Just the words “I’ll find you” make me want to run. God, taking this job was a colossal mistake. If Adam finds out I’m working for Anton—coming to his apartment and staying the night sometimes—I’m afraid of what he might do. He won’t care what the truth is.

  “Hey,” a soft, deep voice says.

  I look up from my phone screen and see Anton approaching me. As soon as he sees my face, his expression changes from happy to concerned.

  “Hi.” I quickly wipe the corners of my eyes again.

  He puts a hand on my back and guides me down the hall and into a room. His bedroom. I’ve peeked in the doorway a couple times since starting work for him, but never stepped inside.

  After closing the door, he walks me over to the bed and gestures for me to sit down. It’s a massive king-sized bed with a charcoal-colored comforter. His bedroom has the same gorgeous view of the lake as his living room.

  “Adam?” he asks, sitting down beside me but leaving a couple feet between us.

  “Yeah, but I’m okay.”

  “You say that all the time, Mia. ‘I’m okay. I’ve got it. I’ll be fine.’”

  I shrug, my throat tightening with emotion. “What choice do I have?”

  He hesitates. “Are you upset because it’s Christmas and you guys are having problems?”

  “No.” I scoff. “I’m upset because he’s a controlling asshole who’s making it impossible for me to get a divorce.”

  “It’s not impossible.”

  I shake my head and look at the floor. “I can’t afford my grandpa’s care. He knows that.”

  “You can get enough in the divorce to cover it, though.”

  “He’s told me he’ll fight me with everything he’s got, Anton,” I say fiercely. “And I can’t afford an attorney. Definitely not one like he can. He took away my access to the bank accounts. What am I supposed to do?”

  He reaches a hand over, like he wants to touch my knee, but then pulls it back. “Let me help you with the money.”

  “No. I’m not going from being beholden to one man to being beholden to another.”

  Anton’s note of laughter is unamused. “You think I’d hold it over you like he does? I don’t want the money back, Mia. I just want to help you.”

  I’m almost afraid to say the words, but I have to. With Adam, I didn’t say things he might not like. I’m not doing that anymore.

  “But you don’t just want to help me.” I turn and face Anton. “You want me to get divorced so I can be with you.”

  A flicker of hurt passes over his face. “Not entirely. Would I love a shot with you at some point? Yeah. But right now, I’m just your friend. I have the means to help you. Let me do it.”

  “Anton…you don’t know what you’re saying. He’s your teammate. You can’t—”

  “I can. And I will, if you’ll let me.”

  I scrunch up my face and cry, wishing it were that simple. Anton has already done so much for me. But if I’m able to get a divorce, I don’t want to dive into a
nother relationship immediately, no matter how much I like Anton, which is a lot. And if I took his money, I’d feel like I needed to try.

  My phone buzzes with another text. I ignore it.

  “Let me see it,” Anton says.

  “You don’t want to,” I say numbly.

  “Let me see it,” he repeats, putting his hand out.

  I sigh heavily, take out the phone, and glance down at the screen.

  Adam: I want to choke you ‘til you have no more voice to lie to me you fucking bitch. Where are you?

  I pass my phone to Anton.

  “Jesus,” he says as he reads the messages. “Mia, why didn’t you tell me?”

  The dam breaks then. I put my elbows on my knees and cry into my hands. Anton puts his palm on my back as I cry out my pent-up feelings.

  Finally, I sit up and shrug. “I’m ashamed. I know it’s an abusive relationship. And I always thought I was a strong woman.”

  “You are.” Anton slides closer to me. “Listen to me—you are strong. This is all on him, not you.”

  “But I stayed longer than I should. I’m still not out of it.”

  “Because he’s holding you hostage, Mia. It’s not right. You have to let me help you out of this.”

  I take a deep breath. “Can we talk about it another time? I feel like we should be out there with everyone else. It’s Christmas.”

  Anton nods. “Yeah. But I’m not dropping this. We’re talking about it tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  “Also…” He clears his throat, looking nervous. “I want you to know, I got you something for Christmas, but now’s not the right time to give it to you. I just didn’t want you to think I didn’t get you anything.”

  The line of concern between his brows makes me smile. “You’ve already done enough.”

  He puts his big hand over my much smaller one on my knee. “You’re my friend, Mia. I’ve got a few other friends I’d go to bat for, too. They just don’t happen to be so beautiful I can hardly breathe around them. But you’ll find out there’s more to me—more to us—than attraction. When you get ready to admit you’re not okay, call me and you’ll see what a fierce friend I am.”

  I just nod, unable to speak. Adam has been the darkness in my life for a while. The universe gave me an unexpected counterbalance in Anton. He’s the light. The hope. The joy. No gift that comes in a box could compare to that.