januarie robinson
- december 5, 2018 -

DAY THREE HUNDRED FINALLY OVER. I felt like I'd reached some kind of milestone somehow. February through December. Nine whole months and it all seemed like such a blur to me now. Summer had been a constant rush of people and just as it began to slow, we were getting ready for the Christmas season which was approaching far too quickly.

            Every time I thought of Christmas, Elena found her way into my mind. My eyes would brim with tears that I'd have to wipe away. I took Lucas' words with me everyday and every moment I had free was spent with her.

            The doctors have her on all kinds of crazy medications and diets now. She'd lost a lot of her hair from the chemotherapy and decided one night to just shave the rest. Now she had a closet full of the prettiest wigs I think I'd ever seen.

            Thankfully, she'd been nothing but positive about the whole thing. They say attitude has so much to do with the recovery process. I'm just crossing my fingers that they're right.

            With my purse slug over my shoulder, I knocked on the office door before stepping inside. Carmen spared me only a second glance and continued counting the end of the night tills. Looking up from the computer, Lucas gave me a once over and sent me a smile.

            He rolled his chair back and leaned into it, "Heading out for the night?"

            "Oh, yeah," looking down at the paper in my hands, my smile dropped, but returned just as quick, "I just needed to drop this off before I left."

            He took the paper and looked it over, "White Winter Festival? What's that?" His eyes came up to meet mine and he raised his brows.

            I laughed, but when his expression remained the same, my jaw dropped, "You don't know what the White Winter Festival is? How long have you lived here?"

            "In Kensington? About six years," he shrugged.

            "And, you've never been?" I shook my head. Setting my purse on the desk, I rifled through its many compartments. Stuffed at the bottom, all wrinkled and edges ripped, I pulled out a flyer for the festival I'd taken from City Hall.

            "It's this giant festival they hold on Main Street every year around Christmas time. It kind of shuts down the whole town for a weekend. How have you really never noticed?" I stood there stunned.

            How could someone live in a town like this one and never gone to the festivals before? Kensington had more than its fair share of festivals throughout the year, but White Winter Festival was one of the biggest.

            "Anyways," I grabbed my purse and ran a hand through my hair, "there's live music and all kinds of games. They put up a giant tree in the middle of the road. There's more food than you can imagine and drinks too; both alcoholic and non-alcoholic. I go with my family every year, most people do."

            Lucas glanced down at the flyer one more time before back up to me, "I might have to check it out this year. See what all the talk is about."

            "Definitely," I smiled. "If you do, you have to stop by the granny booth. If you go to any booth, that's the one you'll want to hit."

            "The granny booth?"

            I nodded, "Yeah, it's this booth that sells 'Grandma's Recipe' hot chocolate. It's basically just slutty hot chocolate."

            Lucas busted up laughing, a wide smile settling on his lips, "What on earth is slutty hot chocolate?"

            My face instantly got warm. Even if I couldn't see my cheeks, I knew they were as red as a stop sign. It happened every time I got embarrassed, like my entire body caught fire, "I'm so sorry."

            Lucas still laughed, but waited for me to continue which I did, "When I was a kid my parents called alcoholic drinks 'slutty' because when you order one without alcohol it's called 'virgin'."

            Lucas simply chuckled, "I think that's the best thing I've heard in a long time."

            I gave a small bow, "Glad to be your service." I smiled and backed up towards the door, "Well, I better get going. Tomorrow is probably going to kill me."

            "Have a gre—" He cleared his throat, "Have a nice night."

            "Thanks, you too." I looked at the open door between us and the cash room, "Bye, Carmen." Her hand popped out and she waved, but continued working. Shaking my head, I sent Lucas a small wave before leaving.

            I tugged my jacket closer to my body and riffled through my purse for my car keys. Outside the theatre, I could feel my body deflate. Forcing a smile everyday was taking a bigger toll on me than I thought it would. I tried to shake the feeling, but it settled deep in my bones. The chill in the air racked through me and I shivered.

            "Hey, kiddo," a voice from behind stopped me in my tracks. Maybe it wasn't the cold that twisted knots in the pit of my stomach.

            I turned to face an older gentleman standing next to the column. He looked terrible. Bags hung heavy under his eyes and the scruff on his face needed to be shaved. His plaid jacket set loose around his shoulders and his pants looked like he'd bought them three sizes too big.

            I'd never seen him look so unkept before. He always wore fitted clothes and would have never been caught dead in a plaid anything.

            Grabbing the strap of my purse, I took a step away from him, "Mark, what are you doing here?"

            He rubbed the back of his neck several times and hesitated when taking a step towards me, "Your mom told me you were working here. I just wanted to check up and see how you're doing. I didn't think you'd answer if I tried to call."

            "You were right about that," I started towards the parking lot. The last thing I wanted was for all my co-workers to see what was going on. "You've seen me. Now go away."

            He grabbed my wrist, forcing me to a stop, "Januarie, please." I refused to turn around and face him with the tears that started to form in my eyes, "I was your dad for ten years. I watched you grow up. I can tell when something is wrong."

            "No," I tried to pull my hand away, but his grip stood tight, "stop it."

            I whipped around and yanked my arm down with all the force I could muster. I stumbled back and he stepped forward to catch me. I found my footing easily and held up a hand, "Don't you touch me."

            Mark glanced around, his brows pulling together, "Januarie, calm down." When I didn't move, he took that as an invitation to continue and maybe it was, "I just want to talk to you. Tell you why I did what I did and explain everything. Maybe get to know you again."

            I shook my head, trying to get that shaking feeling to leave me alone, but it was too late. I was already seeing red, "No."

            "What?" Mark's eyes wandered my face, but I refused to look at him, "Why not?"

            "God, just stop. My hand formed a fist by my side while I used the other to get in his face, "You don't get to come here, to my place or work and bombard me. You can't pretend to be my dad. You left me when I was twelve. Right before I actually needed you in my life. You don't get to come here and pretend to care. I'm not something you can try to fix!"

            Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm my nerves, but it didn't seem to help any, "Some things just can't be fixed. Especially when it comes to people."

            "Januarie—" He reached out for me.

            "I said, don't touch me!" I moved from his reach. I heard the glass doors of the theatre open, but I was too focused on Mark to look over. The figure in the corner of my eye walked towards us, taking giant strides.

            "Can't you just hear me out—"

            "I can't even look at you!"

            "I'm sorry, is there a problem?" Glancing between the both of us, Lucas folded his arms over his chest as he turned to face Mark straight on and raised a brow.

            "Everything's fine." Mark barely glanced at Lucas before returning his gaze to me.

            Lucas stepped in front of me, blocking Mark's line of sight. His voice came out low, "Are you okay?"

            My eyes bounced from Lucas' back to Mark's face. I didn't know what I felt, but I didn't want to be in that situation a second longer. Not with everything I'd been feeling and going through. Lucas dared a look over his shoulder.

            Finally, I spoke the only word my brain seemed to be screaming at me, "No."

            Lucas took a deep breath and turned back to Mark, "As of this moment, you're working on a harassment charge. The young woman has asked you repeatedly not to touch her and leave her be. I strive for all my employees to feel safe at work and right now, you're disrupting that. From here on, you're considered trespassing. Once inside, I'll be calling the police to file an official report and if you step foot on this property again, you'll be asked to leave. If you refuse, you'll be arrested."

            Lucas straightened up, making himself appear taller than he actually was, "You can leave now."

            Neither Lucas or I moved after Mark got in his car and drove away. I wanted to calm down before any words left my mouth, but that didn't seem to be happening anytime soon. I wanted to punch a wall or maybe even Lucas at this point.

            "I don't need saving," my voice came out low and harsh. "Even given my size, I'm actually quite capable of taking care of myself."

            "I know that," his voice came out warm enough to lift a little of the chill in my bones, but I snuffed it out quickly, "I've seen it."

            "Then stop trying," I growled.

            He turned to me then, his brows knitted together, "I'm not."

            "You are!" I looked away. I could see something set in the back of his eyes and I didn't want to get caught in his stare. Not now.

            "I'm sorry, but when you hear someone screaming in the parking lot, you help them. Whether it's a pretty girl or not—" He stopped abruptly when I looked up at him. Closing his eyes, he shook his head.

            My jaw clenched, "I had it under control."

            "What?" He looked at me and gestured around us, "Is that really what you consider under control? Because from where I'm standing, it wasn't even close."

            "Then move," I snapped at him.

            He huffed, "I'm just trying to help."

            "I don't want your help, okay? Not with this, Lucas. It's personal."

            "You know, you're right," he shook his head, "my bad really. Maybe I should go inside and get Cole for you. I'm sure you'd be much happier with him helping, right?"

            "I'm sorry," my hands found my hips, "what did you just say?"

            "Januarie, please," he glanced at the door before continuing, "we're not blind. We can see the way you guys act. If you want to date, just inform the office. Doing it secretly doesn't help anyone. We may work at the movies, but that doesn't mean that we're in one."

            "What are you talking about? Cole's—"

            "You know what, it doesn't matter," I took a step away from him, "I'm done with this conversation. There is absolutely nothing going on between Cole and I. He's my friend and friends act friendly with one another. I'm sorry if that concept is too bizarre for you, but that's normally how it works."

            "Hey—"

            "Lucas, stop. I don't have the energy to deal with this right now. And, the last thing I need is you, of all people, telling me about my own life, okay. You're the last person who is allowed to talk to me about these things. I'm done with all of it."

            This time I moved close to him, "You never show emotions because God forbid people know you have any and then you have the audacity to stand in front of me and condemn me for it. Absolutely not! Just because you never let anyone in doesn't mean you can judge me for it, if you are going to keep people at arm's length don't try to police their decisions."

            "I've never kept you at arm's length."

             "Lucas, I don't know anything about you. Not the important stuff. It's all face value information."

            "That's not true—"

            "Really?" I laughed, but it was dry and lacked any humor, "When's your birthday? But, more importantly, why do you hate it so much?" He opened his mouth to reply, but when nothing came, I continued.

            "Exactly. You don't get to accuse me of anything that doesn't involve this building. What I do outside of it, is none of your concern. I'm not a child. I can take care of myself and the shit show that I'm in right now. And, I certainly don't need your help with any of it."

            He glanced at the building for a split second before gesturing to the cars and lightly guiding me with a hand on my shoulder, "Follow me."

            I took in a breath as we moved to the other side of my Jeep. He stood in front of me and barely placed his hands on my shoulders, "You're okay now. Everything is okay. He's gone. He can't come back here. Everything is okay now."

            My breathing picked up before I could stop it. My chest heaved up and down as the tears started. How was I holding all of that inside of me for so long?

            Without thinking, I moved into him. Hiding my face in his chest, I grabbed a fist full of his shirt as a sob racked through me.

            How could he come here? Bombard me like that? How could he act like everything was fine and seeing him again wouldn't break my heart all over again? How? How could he do that?

            Lucas held me there. One of his hands rubbed my back. It was a comforting gesture. I could hear the sound of distant cars on the main road of Kensington.

            He leaned down close, his mouth next to my ear, "I know you're hurting right now," he whispered. The feeling of his breath on my neck sent a shiver shooting down my spine. Or maybe it was just the cold air that did that to me, "But, that doesn't mean you can take it out on other people."

            Before my brain could get a handle of the words he spoke, he was gone; disappearing into the theatre. My head spun and nothing would come into focus completely. I couldn't even remember getting into my car. Next thing I knew, I was staring at the steering wheel.

            His words echoed in my skull as if on repeat. I had to find a way of dealing with everything going on that didn't involve me lying to myself anymore that everything was fine. Or that I was fine.

            How could she be so okay with dying? How was she not mad at the entire universe? She smiled constantly and cracked more jokes now than she ever did before.

            I slammed my fist against the steering wheel, but it didn't make me feel better like I had hoped it would. It made me feel so much worse. This had to be the tipping point. I had to change my attitude and preferably sooner than later.