by Sivec, Tara
“I don’t think—”
“Can you grab me the milk?” Millie cuts me off.
All I can do is laugh and shake my head at her as I walk over to the fridge, grab the carton of milk, and bring it back to her.
As much as I’ve been dying to call Birdie and ask for her advice, I haven’t picked up the phone, because I know exactly what she’ll say. First, she’ll scream at me for a good fifteen minutes because I have failed to tell any of my friends that Bodhi started proposing to me two months ago. Second, she’ll most likely get in a car to drive up here and kick my ass for keeping it from her. And finally, she’ll kick my ass again for not immediately saying yes, even though she knows why I never want to get married.
I just need advice from someone who won’t kick my ass and who isn’t obsessed with hearts and flowers and romance. And who better to give that advice than someone who knows Bodhi even better than I do?
And also because she’s the only one here right now, and it’s convenient during my breakdown portion of the evening, and I’d probably even word vomit all over Stalker Sheldon if he was here, sooo….
“Bodhi keeps asking me to marry him, and I keep telling him to fuck off, because I didn’t exactly have the best role models for marriage growing up, and I’m scared to death if I say yes, it will ruin how perfect everything is, and our life will turn into a shitshow of hating each other just like my parents, until we’re forgetting to pick our kid back up when we go to the store, and let’s not forget the shitshow of an actual wedding where I’d have to wear a hideous, poufy dress, with everyone looking at me and judging me and wanting to talk to me, and has everyone forgotten that Bodhi is a free spirit who never wants to stay in one place, so all of this is just crazy talk anyway?” I ramble in one breath before I lose my nerve, and also because I’m pretty confident Millie has a very short attention span.
Millie just smiles at me while she sips her tea for a few seconds, and I almost throw my mug right at her head. And then my eyes fill with tears, because that would be mean and totally uncalled for, and yep. I’m pretty sure this is it. This is Tiny Tim officially taking over to end things in a swift and efficient manner. Or, all of this proposal and wedding and marriage bullshit has finally pushed me over the edge, and I am now residing in Crazy Town on Batshit Road.
“Bodhi didn’t travel all over the world for twelve years because he was a free-spirited hippie who couldn’t settle down.” Millie laughs softly, setting her mug on the counter and folding her hands together to rest them next to it. “He traveled so much because he never found a place that gave him a reason to stay.”
My heart starts thumping faster, and I set my own mug down to press my hand against my chest to try to get it to slow down, while I lean all my weight on my other hand on the counter since my knees feel like giving out as she continues.
“You’re his reason to stay, Tess. And if you don’t want to turn out like your parents… then don’t.” She shrugs like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
“Right, so I’ll just snap my fingers, and it will magically happen. Okay, sure.” I laugh with a roll of my eyes, rubbing the heel of my hand harder against the weird ache in my chest that I’m thinking might be a heart attack.
“I’m pretty sure the fact that you’re freaking out and spending all this time worrying about becoming your parents just proves it will never happen. Do you think your parents spent one second freaking out that they were bad parents?”
The idea of that happening actually makes a giggle bubble out of me, and what she’s saying starts to actually penetrate my hardheaded skull as she keeps going.
“And correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re not exactly a passive person, right?” Millie asks. She doesn’t wait for me to reply as my skin breaks out in a cold sweat. “Let’s say you and Bodhi get hitched. Are you really the type of person who will sit back and let your life and your marriage turn into something you don’t want?”
I’m shaking my head right along with her, but my throat is so tight with emotion I can’t speak. Luckily, Millie does it for me.
“Hell no!” she shouts, slamming her fist against the counter and rattling our mugs. “You’re going to fight, and scream, and claw, and burn the fucking house down to get what you want. Your marriage is whatever you make of it, Tess. Because it’s yours, and no one else’s. It’s unique to just you and Bodhi, and only you and Bodhi will know what you want or how to make it work.”
She makes it sound so simple.
Because maybe it is. Maybe marriage doesn’t mean yelling, and hatred, and forgetting what’s important. Maybe mine and Bodhi’s marriage… perhaps… could mean a little bit more. Maybe all this time, I’ve been fighting in the wrong direction. I’ve been fighting so hard against becoming my parents and denying myself any kind of real happiness that I haven’t even given myself the chance to prove I am already nothing like them. And I never will be, because I am a fighter, and I will burn the fucking house down to get what I want.
And what I want is for Bodhi to stay forever.
Legally.
So that I can own his ass if he ever tries to leave me.
“Your first marriage should always be for love, and you and Bodhi are totes in love.” Millie gives me a reassuring nod, unclasping her hands to slide one across the counter and rest it on top of mine that’s still the only thing holding me up at this point. “And if you don’t want a big fancy wedding, don’t do a big fancy wedding. My third wedding was in a bathroom at Vin Diesel’s house, and Adam Levine officiated. But the third one is always for money and or pity, so we don’t need to worry about that one right now.”
Millie pats my hand and then grabs her tea, taking a sip while everything I have ever thought about life and marriage and what I wanted out of my future explodes inside my brain in a blazing inferno.
I’ll never find another guy who loves me the way Bodhi does, or takes care of me the way Bodhi does, or puts up with my bullshit the way Bodhi does. Who loves me because of my crazy and not in spite of it. Who didn’t care why I loved fire, only that it made me happy, and who made me throw out all my plans once before, and I guess it didn’t turn out so bad. And who continues to put all of his wants and needs on the back burner just so I’m content.
Like by whisking me away from home because I was being a stubborn little shit, who was overly annoyed by all things Christmas. He’s given me the world, and all I’ve done is take. If I want to make absolutely certain I don’t turn out like my parents, I need to stop being so selfish and start doing more things to make him happy. You know, other than blowjobs.
Not even bothering to blink away the tears this time or pretend like I have something in my eye, I pull a piece of paper out of the front pocket of my hoodie, and the second reason why I couldn’t sleep tonight. Sliding it across the counter toward Millie, I shove my hands back in my hoodie pocket when she grabs it.
“You probably know how to speak Bodhi. Can you decipher this list? Is this what he actually wants for Christmas this year, or was he just really high and wrote down every Christmassy thing he could think of?” I ask, as Millie unfolds the piece of paper I read by the glow of the hippo tree lights in our room, and then once again a few minutes before she came in here and caught me playing with matches.
When I couldn’t sleep, I snuck out of bed and fished through Bodhi’s wallet to grab the pack of matches he always keeps in there for me for emergencies. That alone was enough to get me all choked up while I was tiptoeing around our room, aside from being an emotional mess about the proposal. And then I found this list shoved behind his driver’s license.
“Oh my God, it’s Bodhi’s Best Christmas Ever List of Necessities!” Millie squeals as she scans the list.
“Wait, you know what that is? You’ve seen this before?”
“Of course I know what this is! I was sitting next to him in the back of the van the night he dove into the ocean and wrote it! I met him and the guys in a 7-11 parking lot to say goodbye be
fore they headed out of town. I can’t believe he still carries this around with him!” she gushes, making me feel like an even bigger bitch than I did when I first found it in his wallet.
I thought it was something he wrote down recently, like a weird, random list of presents he wanted, and Christmas things he wanted to do, and I felt bad I’ve kept him holed up here at The Redinger House not doing anything fun.
“All he ever wanted was the perfect Christmas like the ones he saw on TV. He was so cute about it back then, and he said that someday, he would have the best Christmas ever, and in order for that to happen, it would have to include all the things on this list,” Millie finishes, stabbing the knife deeper into my chest as she refolds the paper and hands it back to me.
Nothing can make you feel like the biggest asshole in the world than knowing your boyfriend gave up his Christmas dreams just because you have a stick up your ass about the holidays. I know all he’s ever wanted is the perfect Christmas, but I was too busy freaking out, and feeling sorry for myself, and making it all about me to remember that. He’s been dreaming about the perfect Christmas not just for the last twelve years, but for his entire life. And all I’ve done is pout, and roll my eyes, and act like the Grinch who stole Christmas. But in my defense, that’s just what my face usually looks like.
Wow, I suck. I really, really suck, and I have no idea why Bodhi keeps asking me to marry him. I am the worst.
Swallowing back the tears, I take a deep, determined breath, knowing I need to make things right. Especially since this is probably my last Christmas on earth, and I should go out with a bang. And you know, because I love my boyfriend and want to make him happy.
“Millie, it seems Bodhi and I are going to be extremely busy all day tomorrow. How would you feel about doing a little last-minute shopping for me while we’re out?”
CHAPTER 9
Tess
“Your presents is requested.”
“Hold on, you’re serious? You’ll let me do whatever Christmassy things I want, all day today?”
“That is correct.”
“And you won’t complain.”
“I won’t light anything on fire; I never said I wouldn’t complain. Now you’re just talking crazy.”
“Oh my God.”
“Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?”
“I just… I’m just so happy, and I don’t know what to do first. Holy shit, it’s only eight in the morning, and we have so much time for so many Christmas activities!”
“Oh, fuck me.”
“Hey, that was first on my list too! Take your pants off.”
“Sorry, I lied. I’m gonna need to burn something first.”
“Fine. I’ll allow one tiny hippo ornament, but we have to replace it while we’re out doing activities, and—No! Tess Corinne Powell, don’t you dare burn that…. Okaaay, so I guess we’ll be replacing the bedspread and the curtains while we’re out.”
“I need more green frosting, STAT!”
“Will you stop it? You’re going to get us in trouble. Allie gave us a strict list of instructions, with photos, for how we’re supposed to be doing these.”
“Have I told you lately how adorable you are for letting us join in on the Christmas cookie decorating brunch?”
“Call me adorable one more time, and I will slit your throat with this butter knife.”
“You know it just turns me on when you threaten me with utensils. Stop dilly-dallying and hand me the green frosting.”
“No. You are hereby prohibited from frosting any more tiny joints in all the Santa cookie mouths.”
“Come on, these are artistic AF. You’re smothering my creativity, man.”
“Where… where did all the Skittles go? I need them for the walkway.”
“Sorry. I got the munchies. Are you gonna use the rest of those red and green gum drops?”
“Will you focus, Bodhi? God, will you look at this masterpiece? It’s fucking glorious with the icicles I piped on the roof, and the stained-glass windows I made with melted-down Jolly Ranchers, and the candy cane walkway, and the trees I made with green, chocolate-covered pretzels with Red Hots for ornaments. Barb and Eugene think they’ve got this thing in the bag with their stupid licorice fence and their dumb snowman made out of coconut. Go over there and knock out one of their table legs.”
“Who knew Tess Powell could be so vicious about a gingerbread house competition? My dick is totally hard right now.”
“When is your dick not hard?”
“You’re right though.”
“I need the other three tubs of frosting and the red and green M&M’s for the chimney. Where are all the M&M’s?”
“Sorry… munchies.”
“All of it? Including the frosting?”
“I mean, I worked up an appetite fucking you like a champ in the shower this morning, in case you’ve forgotten, and then we skipped breakfast so I could show you the proper way to make snow angels. And you know, all that weed I smoked with Sheldon while you were apologizing to Allie about the stoned Santa cookies. Turns out, he’s not so scary when I’m high, and it’s just kind of ironic he keeps power tools, duct tape, and an eighty-five-foot length of rope in his trunk.”
“Just hand me that last gingerbread wall so I can finish the garage.”
“Yeah, about that….”
“That’s it! Go stand in the corner and think about what you’ve done. But if you ram your elbow into Barb and Eugene’s roof on the way over there, I’ll think about releasing you from time-out early for good behavior.”
“Sit on the curb, watch the Christmas parade, and stop racing out into traffic. That’s exactly how you got hit by the Polar Express train on Summersweet.”
“But everyone else is racing out there to get candy!”
“You do not need to pick up every piece of candy the people in the parade throw out to the crowd. You already have a bag full of candy, and you just tripped a toddler to grab a Blow Pop before she did.”
“She’s three! What the fuck was she gonna do with a sucker that has gum in the middle, blow a bubble while she’s drinking her bottle?”
“Do you even hear the words coming out of your mouth?”
“Uuuggghhh, fine! But if one of the floats starts throwing out Reese’s Christmas trees, you better get that kid out of my way. Hello? Nut allergies? I’ll basically be saving her life.”
“Do you want me to tackle him or something?”
“Nah, thanks, Jason. He’ll tire himself out and stop screaming and running in circles eventually. It’s best to just let him come down on his own from the sugar high.”
“I didn’t think he’d actually eat Barb and Eugene’s entire house when you guys lost the gingerbread competition.”
“He’s very dedicated to my happiness that way.”
“Okay, well, the trolley leaves in about five minutes to drive around to the other side of the mountain and look at lights, where we’ll stop so everyone can get off and do some shopping or grab something to eat, so just let me know if—Wow, that had to hurt! Just decided to trip him, huh?”
“Yeah, the screaming was getting annoying. You okay, honey? It’s time to go look at lights. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
“Hi, I’m Dawn! Which one is yours? Mine’s the five-year-old in the caboose with the Frosty the Snowman sweater. Hi, sweetie, wave to mommy! Don’t you look so cute riding the little Christmas train!”
“Well, isn’t he an adorable little shit? Mine’s the thirty-four-year-old sitting next to him with his knees up around his ears, wearing the T-shirt with the red-and-green bongs on it that says The tree isn’t the only thing getting lit this year. Bodhi, stop hogging the train bell and let the other little kids at the mall have a turn!”
“They… they grow up so fast.”
“They certainly do, Dawn. No! Get that out of your mouth right now! Thank God he’s old enough that I can beat him, am I right?”
“I’m just gonna go stand… somewhere else
.”
“That’s probably for the best.”
“You’re making a scene.”
“I’m not making a scene. He’s making a scene.”
“He’s ten, and he’s waiting in line to see Santa.”
“Yeah, well so am I, and he cut, and I’ve been waiting a hell of a lot longer to see Santa than he has!”
“Did you seriously just stick your tongue out at a child?”
“He started it.”
“…”
“…”
“I’m sorry. I’ll behave. I’m just so freaking excited to see Santa, and I can’t believe you brought me to see him! This is the best day ever, and you are the best girlfriend ever! Can we get hot chocolate after this with extra mini marshmallows and sprinkles?”
“We can do whatever you want after this, as long as you stop putting your middle finger up behind your back every time you turn away from that kid, like I don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Whatever… I see Santa after him. I’ll just tell the big guy he’s a mean little shit and should only get coal. He’s gonna feel like such a chump for cutting when he gets nothing for Christmas.”
“You’re going to let me do this? In public?”
“Bodhi, will you stop making such a big deal about it and just do it already?”
“But like, it’s the first time you’re letting me do this while there are people around! You’ve been telling me for six months that it’s not an all-the-time thing because it’s too painful, and we have to save it for special occasions like on my birthday, and now you’re telling me you want to do it right now? In front of people?”
“You’re being really weird about something you beg me for constantly. It’s not like anyone will see us. It’s dark in here, and they’re all busy. And this is a special occasion, so now I’m letting you do whatever you want while you’re back there.”
