My kids endured a large part of their grief last night and the excitement of Christmas morning overrode their sadness, for which I was eternally grateful.
The morning had been insanity, as usual. But things had quieted down now that we’d enjoyed a great Christmas morning brunch and they all had brand new presents to occupy their time.
I finished up the dishes and then checked my phone for the first time all day. I had bunches of texts from various relatives wishing me happy holidays, but one stood out above all others, a text from Ben.
Merry Christmas. He had texted about an hour ago.
Merry Christmas to you too. Hope you had a great morning! I wrote back.
I moved to the couch in front of the tree and tucked my feet underneath me. There were lots of things I should be doing, but I couldn’t find the motivation. And this time it wasn’t because grief had weighted me down.
For the first time in a long time, my children were happily occupied and I had a couple minutes to myself in my own home. I decided to take full advantage and enjoy this quiet moment in front of my beautiful tree before I had to take it all down.
It was a fake one, but still pretty with all the lights and ornaments hung around it. When Grady was healthy, he would make a big night out of going to pick out a real tree-the perfect tree. Then I would spend the next month vacuuming up needles. Of course, he didn’t care. He loved the fresh pine smell and the wide-eyed wonder the kids had the night we shopped for it. And to be honest, I loved it for those reasons too.
Last Christmas, when he was too sick to leave the hospital, Emma and my parents had surprised me by decorating my entire house while I was at the hospital. They had enlisted my kids’ help and had outdone themselves by making every room festive. They’d bought the fake tree because we’d all been too busy going back and forth to the hospital to deal with a real one.
I was thankful for it this year, when the same thing was true, but for different reasons.
My phone buzzed on the cushion next to me. I picked it up to find another text from Ben. I’m celebrating with my parents tonight, so my morning has been pretty lazy so far.
I grinned when I texted back, Pop-Tarts?
You got it. But they were the sugar cookie kind, so that’s festive, right?
You should have come over for brunch with us. My stomach dipped after I pressed send. Why had I told him that? How inappropriate! My fingers started shaking. I had to stop sending him the wrong messages. At least it was over now though, so I didn’t have to worry about following through with the offer.
Thankfully, he didn’t acknowledge the invitation. Instead, he wrote something even more perplexing. Are you busy now? Or do you think you could spare a few minutes?
I debated how to answer, but curiosity got the best of me. The kids are pretty quiet right now. Lots of new toys to play with. What do you need?
You.
His one word answer caused my heart to spiral into overdrive. I felt my face heat with a flush and a shiver tingled down my spine.
But then the rest of his text came in and I forced myself to calm down.
You to come over. I have something for you.
What is it?
I’m not sure you understand how Christmas works.
I smiled at his teasing words. You want me to come over to your house?
Yes…
“Who are you texting?” Emma plopped onto the seat next to me and pulled her knees to her chest.
I looked up, immediately feeling guilty. “Ben.”
I expected her to jump up and do some kind of victory dance, but she kept her neutral expression. “Is he having a good Christmas?”
“I don’t think his has really started yet. He’s seeing his parents tonight.”
“Gotchya.” She reached for a pillow and hugged it against her chest.
“He wants me to go over there,” I confessed in a rush of words. “He says he has something for me. Did he get you something?”
“Yes, he did.”
“What was it?”
“A scarf that I picked out and sent him the links for.” She smiled shamelessly.
God, I loved my sister.
“Well, I didn’t pick out anything for him to buy me. I can’t imagine what it is.”
“Go find out.”
I chewed undecidedly on my bottom lip. “I didn’t get him anything.” My gaze bounced around the room as I tried to figure out something I could wrap quickly and re-gift.
“I doubt he is expecting anything, Lizbeth.”
“What did you get him?” Curiosity about Emma and Ben’s friendship burned oddly in my stomach. I couldn’t figure out why it bothered me that they were so close. Ben and I were close too. I shouldn’t feel jealous about what they had together.
Jealous?
Did I really feel jealous?
“A wallet,” she told me. “He picked it out and sent me the links.”
I laughed at their silly gift exchange. “Maybe he got me the same scarf. Different color?”
“Maybe,” my sister shrugged. “It’s a very cute scarf. I guess there’s only one way to find out…”
I didn’t move a muscle. My phone screen had darkened so I couldn’t see Ben’s invitation anymore, but I felt it all over my skin and low in my belly.
“Go!” Emma encouraged. “I’ll make sure the house doesn’t burn down.”
“I won’t be gone long,” I promised, jumping up from the couch.
“Don’t worry about it if you are.”
“Okay, but I won’t be.”
“Whatever, just go!”
I tucked my phone into the pocket of my black skinny jeans and slipped on my boots. I had dressed up a little for Christmas in a red, silky shirt-style tunic and gold bangly jewelry. It was the most effort I had made since Thanksgiving. I pulled on my coat as I slipped out the front door.
I hurried from my house to his, making long, dragging footsteps in the snow across our lawns. It was cold outside and I was anxious to see this present.
I raised my hand to knock on his door, but it swung open for me instead. My hand hung there while he took his time raking his eyes from my toes to the top of my head. He nudged the screen door open and I slid by him into his house.