Leave it to Jayden to accidentally make an uncomfortable situation worse. I love my son, but he is not subtle. From the moment he walked in with Tyler Emerson, one of his assistant coaches, I knew his intentions. And then, when he left me alone with Tyler, there was no denying this was a set-up.
“So, your son, he didn’t stop gushing about you the whole way up here,” Tyler had said after he finished unpacking and taking a nap in the room Jeremiah had vacated. “I feel like he has a career in marketing when hockey is over.”
I chuckled and quipped. “I should have him write my Tinder profile.”
“Oh God, Tinder. The hell all singles must try at least once, I guess,” Tyler laughed and gave me a sympathetic smile. “I gave up on online dating last month when the woman showed up to our coffee date in one of my old hockey jerseys and asked for tickets to a Comets game before even giving me a hello.”
Tyler, it turns out, used to play hockey too. He was on three different teams through the league and finished his career in Vancouver. He coached their minor team for two years before coming up this season to be an assistant coach. He’s had an amicable divorce and has a daughter two years younger than Jayden named Naomi who attends York University in Toronto. He’s tall, still in decent shape with an attractive hint of a dad bod. His hair is chestnut, his eyes light, his scruff on his jawline salt-n-pepper. On paper, my son hit it out of the park. I could entertain the idea of dating Tyler… I should… but…
I’m not interested. I’m still all twisted inside about what happened with Jeremiah. And when he, Jayden, and Ariel return home several hours later, I feel even more confused. Because the sight of Jeremiah turns every one of my organs to butterflies. I have to look away and go busy myself in the kitchen.
Ariel shoots upstairs to take a nap. Jayden goes to take a shower, and now it's super awkward because it's just me, Tyler, and Jeremiah. "Hey, Wall, what keeps you from going home?"
Jeremiah walks to the window and looks out at the backyard. He shrugs one shoulder, his good one, and looks over at the coach. “I’d rather stay and work with the trainer to get this shoulder back up and running as fast as possible.”
“Your parents won’t miss you?”
"They usually work," Jeremiah responds. "One of them will anyway. And my sister is hosting Christmas this year, and she can't cook to save her life. I am not flying over five hours for undercooked potatoes, watery gravy, and rubbery turkey."
Tyler laughs and looks over at me where I’ve been eavesdropping from the kitchen. “Sounds like The Wall has high expectations for your cooking.”
“Actually, Jayden does the sides, so any problems with the potatoes are on him,” I say cheerfully. “My gravy is always thick. And delicious.”
“Yes, you are delicious…” Jeremiah whispers as he walks by me. Tyler is too far across the great room to hear, but I flush and glare at him.
“You cook Wall?”
Why do I hate that everyone calls him that?
"I make a killer no-bake cheesecake. From a box," Jeremiah says, and I think it's a joke, but when I glance up, he's got a solidly serious look on his face. "As long as I can tell the sugar from the salt. I messed those up once, and it was definitely not good.”
Tyler howls with laughter. I quirk an eyebrow. The man whipped up an incredible pasta dish from leftovers last night. Why is he acting like he’s incompetent? And then without another word, Jeremiah excuses himself for a nap of his own.
The rest of our night goes just like that. With Jeremiah acting like a dumb puppy. Tyler and Jayden act like this is normal, but it makes me annoyed. He's so much more than he shows them. Ariel, as always, is lost in her phone and oblivious. Jayden plays bartender as Tyler and I prep the food, and Jeremiah suggests watching Die Hard. Then we all debate whether it's a Christmas movie or not. Jeremiah, Jayden, and I are team yes. Tyler and Ariel team no.
“John Maclean is a man trying to save his family and their Christmas celebrations from terrorists. How is that not a Christmas movie?” Jeremiah argues with Jayden.
“Since when are terrorists Christmasy?”
“Hans Gruber does kind of look like an elf,” Jeremiah counters and pauses to think hard about it. “Seriously. If, you know, an elf had a homicidal streak, he would look like Hans. Don’t make me pull up a picture and draw an elf outfit on him because I will. Don’t test me!”
Jayden laughs and shoots his teammate a smile. Judging from Jeremiah’s face, it’s the first time my son has smiled at him. I knew things were tense between them, but I didn’t think it was that bad. I’m glad this trip is doing what Jeremiah wanted and ending that tension. “Fine. We can watch Die Hard.”
"Bruce Willis is an old guy, isn't he? Are there any hot, young people in it? I haven't seen it, just clips," Ariel announces, and I fight off the roll my eyes want to do.
“Is it on Netflix?” Jayden asks. “Can you check on your phone, Wall? I don’t have it hooked up here, but I’ll do it if that’s where we have to get it.”
“I don’t have Netflix on my phone, but I’ll Google it,” Jeremiah says as Jayden hands him a spiked egg nog.
Only he doesn’t let go of the glass. They do a small, quick tug-of-war with it and then their eyes meet, and I hold my breath. Oh fuck. Jeremiah blinks and smiles. “I accidentally deleted it when I was messing around with my phone last night. Trying to pause a flick I was watching and check a text message and poof. The fucking thing uninstalled. Technology hates me.”
Jayden lets go of the egg nog glass with an amused shake of his head. “You are a special breed, Wall.”
I can breathe again, but my heart is still pounding. And I hate that it was Jeremiah faking stupidity again that saved our mutual asses. The guy has so much more to offer than he lets on, and I don’t know why he does that.
Tyler helps me bring out platters and platters of appetizers and charcuterie. Jeremiah offers to help, but Tyler blows him off. “You relax with the rest of the kids and rest the wing. I’ve got this.”
He doesn’t mean it as a dig, but I can tell it bugs Jeremiah even though he just nods and heads into the great room. Then we all settle in and watch the movie and laugh and drink. Except for Ariel, who spends an inordinate amount of time taking photos of the charcuterie and her face holding up her wine glass in front of the roaring fire. Then it’s time for the classics, Rudolph, Frosty, Charlie Brown.
Ariel is the first to bail, claiming she’s exhausted and needs to do her nighttime skincare routine. She’s not a cartoon fan. Jayden looks disappointed but kisses her cheek goodnight. He loves these cartoons. Tyler is falling asleep on the couch next to me. Jeremiah’s face is glued to the screen from his position on the other couch, but he occasionally glances over at me. Our eyes lock, and I look away first. It’s a dance we’ve been doing all night.
Finally, Tyler stands up and stretches as Charlie Brown berates himself for his choice of Christmas trees. “I need to hit the hay. You want me to help you clean up?”
“No. I’ve got it.”
Jayden immediately turns off the TV.
“Hey! We need Linus’s motivational speech!”
"It's not like we haven't heard it before, Ma," Jayden chuckles and gets up from the pillow where he was sitting on the floor. "I'm suddenly really tired too. The day's caught up with me. I'm sure The Wall needs some shut-eye too. So we'll let Tyler help you with the dishes and see you in the morning."
He walks around to the back of the couch, kisses me on the cheek, and trots towards the stairs. Jeremiah is slowly standing too. Jayden pauses at the door of the stairs. "You need anything or are you all set up in the office?"
“All set up,” Jeremiah responds and turns slowly away from me.
I want to scream with how awkward this all is and how much I don't want Jeremiah to go. But I wish Tyler would. I know it's not fair or smart because he's a nice man and the right choice. He's the only choice. Jeremiah Waller is not a choice. I don't get to keep him. I sigh. "Okay then. No motivational Peanuts speech for the first Christmas of my life. Night everyone."
Jayden climbs the stairs, and Jeremiah disappears down the hall by the front door that leads to the laundry room and the office. Tyler has already started collecting dishes off the coffee table, and I grab what’s left of the charcuterie board and appetizer trays.
“You can stack like a pro,” Tyler notes as I pile the dishes on my arm and my hand.
"Was a pro," I tell him as he follows me to the kitchen. "I was a waitress for seven years when Jayden was really tiny. It was flexible, and I could work on my GED around my aunt and uncle's day jobs because they watched Jay for me when I was working. Then I moved on up to Starbucks, where I quickly became a manager and went to night school for a business diploma and one in digital design just for fun. Anyway, I finished my career as manager of customer service for all the Vancouver stores and… I don't know why I'm telling you this."
He’s watching me with genuine interest in his blue eyes. And when he smiles, it also feels genuine, and warm. “I like hearing it. You’ve worked hard to make sure you could provide for Jayden. You should be proud. It’s not easy to take on adult problems and life situations when you’re not an adult. Let alone succeed, which you have done.”
“Thanks, but I don’t make a big deal out of it,” I tell him with a brief flicker of a smile as I load the dishwasher. “And I lucked out with a kid who was born genetically gifted. I had nothing to do with that. Jayden put in the work and beat the odds.”
"I bet if you ask him, he'd say you had a lot to do with it." Tyler smiles, and it's nice. But it makes me think of Jeremiah's grin and how it warms me from the inside. Tyler's doesn't. "You should consider going to some games in person. All the parents and girlfriends do when they're in town, and you live here."
“I know. I’m just not the same age as the other parents,” I remind him and close the dishwasher door. He leans on the counter, his body positioned toward me. If this was Jeremiah, I’d turn to face him too. Lean into him. But it isn’t, so I busy myself cleaning the counter. “I don’t like the looks on most of their faces while they do the mental math. And Ariel goes to most of his games, and I… I think she would be happier using the extra tickets for her friends.”
“Yeah she… seems to have limited interests, so I can see why a conversation might not flow with her,” Tyler says with a smidge of tact, but our eyes meet, and I know he sees Ariel the way I do. “Anyway, are you sure you don’t want me to stick around and finish cleaning up with you? I don’t mind.”
I shake my head. "No. It's fine. I'm just going to wrap a few last-minute things and kind of take a minute to myself," I smile, but it feels tight on my face. Hopefully, he doesn't notice.
“Yeah I guess you’ve kind of been babysitting Waller this whole time,” Tyler chuckles.
“He’s an adult. It was fine,” I reply softly, and his chuckles peter out. He clears his throat.
"Yeah. I was kidding. Like I said, Waller is a great kid. Guy. A good guy." He scratches the back of his head awkwardly. "Okay, so goodnight. See you in the morning."
“Sleep well!” I say in the most upbeat voice I can muster.
Tyler climbs the stairs, and I putter around the kitchen aimlessly. It’s clean, the dishwasher is on, and I don’t have any presents to wrap. That was a lie. I just didn’t want to go upstairs at the same time as Tyler. It would have felt awkward. I turn off all the lights and stand there, staring at the clock on the wall, watching the second hand tick. I’m tired and emotionally exhausted, but I want to make sure Tyler is asleep before I go up.
And then I hear a floorboard creak.