Titus makes New Year's Resolutions

Titus stood alone on the beach in the middle of the night. It was right before midnight on New Year's Eve. The wind played with his blond curls as he stood with the hands jammed deep into the pockets of his camo pants. The swell kept the bay in front of him and the city behind him in thick fog. A couple of minutes before midnight, he heard the pops of fireworks. Somewhere close by, but hidden in the fog, a small group of teenagers cussed at the early fireworks, "Too early, bitch!"

Titus grinned. To be that young and ignorant again. He didn't look at his phone to mark the exact moment of midnight. He heard it all around him when it happened. For a minute, the collective yells of Happy New Year made the whole city hum. All around, the bay was alive with sounds of parties. Fireworks erupted in several spots. Los Angeles County did not allow fireworks, but there were always some willing to bend the rules.

He heard the sounds of couples kissing. The fog hid them from his sight, but he was acutely aware of his own loneliness. He had done such a good job of running off the women who loved him, he was left with none. He sighed and turned to go home.

His home, a cottage only five blocks from the ocean in Venice Beach, was warm and inviting. He untied his Danner boots outside and slapped the soles together a couple of times to shake out the last of the sand before taking them inside. He was particular about cleanliness in his home. He stored the boots under a chair next to the entrance so they could dry completely before he'd put them in the closet.

A bottle of Champagne in a cooler and a glass waited for him on the dining table. He popped the cork and poured himself a glass. He tasted the bubbly and said to himself, "Happy New Year, Titus." He looked around. By the phone, he saw the little scratch pad he kept in case he ever had to take notes during a call. He fetched it and sat down at the table with it.

He flipped through the pages until he found one that was pristine and free of any doodles, notes, and even free of traces from write-through. On the top line, he wrote '2012 Resolutions.'

He stared at the blank page. Thoughts swirled in his mind. There were so many things he wanted to do better. It seemed there was no way to figure out what to start with. He took a sip of Champagne. As he closed his eyes to savor the beverage, he thought of his son Daniel. He nodded to himself and wrote as his first resolution 'Spend more time with Daniel.'

Thinking of Daniel brought up his botched marriage to Jessica. On the next line, he wrote 'Get Jessica back.'

His chest got tight as he pictured Jessica and her lover celebrating together. The other man getting to kiss her for the stroke of midnight. Titus clenched his teeth until he heard the grinding sound. How he wanted to smack that guy's face in. But he couldn't. It was his own fault Jessica had started dating her study buddy from nursing school. Every time Titus messed up, Alex was there to comfort her. Titus breathed his anger out. If he wanted his wife back, he would have to be mature about it.

He looked at his list again. Third, he put down 'Visit Alex at least three times.' He stared at the name. Why had his mother decided to call herself Alex when she realized she was lesbian? Out of all unisex names it had to be that? He fixed his resolution. 'Visit Alex Mom at least three times.' "Mom," he whispered. It made him smile. She had been the worst mother to him when he was a child, but she made sure he got adopted by a wonderful woman. Ma, his adopted mother, gave him everything he needed and loved him in ways his own mother couldn't. Ma was dead now. Lung cancer caught up with her after over forty years of chain smoking. Before she told him she was dying, she got him back in touch with his birth mother. Only fifteen years apart, Titus and his mother had become friends.

Last, Titus wrote on his list of resolutions 'Visit the Dallas siblings.' Those were the kids who had grown up with him in Ma's home. He was the only one she had adopted, but there were seven others she fostered over many years.

He tore the sheet out of the pad and taped it to the mirror in the bathroom. He went to bed.

"Titus." Jane stood in the door to his room. She held the piece of paper he wrote his resolutions on in her hand. He looked up from his pillow. "What is this?" she asked.

"My resolutions. It says so on the top line." He let his head fall back on the pillow.

"It was taped to my bathroom mirror."

Without looking at her, he waved his hand toward the master bathroom. "Hang it up in there."

She sat down on the side of his bed. "You stayed home alone last night."

"So what?"

"So you got lonely. So you should have come with Steve and me."

He reached for her. "Come to bed. You can chase away my loneliness."

She held up the piece of paper and read, "Resolution number two. 'Get Jessica back.' Taking me in your bed is not going to get that accomplished."

He sighed. "Who keeps resolutions anyways?"

She stood up and went into his bathroom. On her way out past his bed, she said, "You're going to keep your resolutions this year."

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