Zed winced. “I’m so sorry, Tasha.”
“Thank you.” She bit her lip and fought the emotions that bubbled within her.
Zed picked up the skillet from the stove and headed to the table. She saw fluffy yellow eggs with flecks of red and green peppers, mushrooms and onions. Zed scooped the food onto two festive, holiday-themed plates.
“Since the holidays hold challenging memories for us both, maybe we can replace some of those bad memories by doing some fun things. Today we can do stuff we loved to do as kids. Even if it’s totally off-the-wall. Like eating Froot Loops for dinner, staying in our pajamas all day, watching cartoons, stuff like that. Whatever you want. Tomorrow we can have a traditional Christmas. Most grocery stores sell holiday meals. I could pick something up for us. What do you think?” Zed asked.
Tasha kept her face blank, but inside she felt all squishy. Who was this man who could be so thoughtful and kind? Why would he limit himself from having a family? She started to think maybe she understood a little of what his aunt Zora and his mom had seen in Zed that made them wish for a different life for him.
“Sounds really cool,” she responded. Mentally, she shook herself free of her thoughts about Zed. Yeah, maybe he was an amazing guy. But she couldn’t get that confused or put on rose-tinted glasses about him. The man didn’t want a family. Ever. And it wasn’t fair for her to try to fit him into any other idealistic mold in her mind. She’d been there, done that with other guys. And it had always led to disaster. She needed to honor who he said he was and what he wanted. But what would be so wrong with suspending reality for a bit and enjoying the season?
She had a husband for three holidays. Christmas, New Year’s and Valentine’s Day spanned their agreement time. Why, he’s my holiday husband. The thought nearly caused her raucous laugh, snort-style, to escape. But she imprisoned the urge, safely locking it in her throat.
“All right, then, great,” Zed replied. “After breakfast we can make a formal Christmas Eve wish list for what we’d like to do today.” His eyes rolled over her face. “The sky’s the limit, little missus.”
Tasha’s heart flipped at his acknowledgment of her as his wife. She tried to maintain a poker face. “I have one request now.”
Zed scooped the last bit of his eggs onto a golden-brown piece of toast and consumed it. “And what would that be?”
“Can we play Christmas carols? My mom and I always loved holiday songs.”
“Easy-peasy,” he said. “We wired an amazing sound system in the house a few years ago. I’ll program some Christmas music for us.”
After Zed got the music started, he helped her load the dishwasher with the breakfast dishes.
When they were done in the kitchen, he started a roaring fire in the living room fireplace. As if on cue, featherlight snowflakes began to fall more steadily outside.
Tasha went to the front bay window and sat on the window seat. The winter scene outside was beyond lovely to her. Some kids across the street danced in the snow. Then they stood still, raised their faces to the sky and gleefully held out their pink tongues to collect falling flakes.
She felt warmth behind her and smelled a hint of cologne. Zed had joined her to watch the outside scene, as well.
“Oh, for those carefree days again,” he said wistfully.
Tasha nodded in agreement. A few vehicles drove up slowly, blocking the view of the kids. One vehicle was an SUV and the other was a green station wagon. Each were loaded with people. They stopped in front of Zed’s house. The vehicles’ occupants stared at the house, their mouths forming perfect oval shapes as if they were amazed. Tasha recognized the mixture of awe and wonder in their expressions. It was the same way she and her mom had felt each Christmas they’d stood in front of the home, looking at the grand house and beautiful decorations.
Was she really sitting here, at Christmastime, in her dream home? She laughed to herself at the wonder of it. Instinctively, she waved at the carload of folks. To her surprise, they excitedly waved back.
She watched the car drive pass and then turned to him. “What’s your favorite Christmas memory?”
Zed crinkled his brows in deep thought. “I can’t think of a specific one. I guess the few times where my dad was home. He was a railroad exec when I was little. Later, he worked for the airlines. He was gone a lot.” He stared out the rapidly frosting window. “I just wanted to be like the other kids and wake up Christmas morning with my dad and mom, and open presents and act silly while they watched with pride and love. Mostly, it was just my mom and me. She’d give me my gift from her and my dad. Though the card with the gift was signed from both of them, it was always in her handwriting. My father usually called us from wherever he was at, but it wasn’t the same.” The sorrow filled his eyes, turning them into fathomless pools as his gaze connected with hers. “What about you? What’s your favorite Christmas memory?” he asked.
“Honestly, it was coming to this house. It was always the highlight of our year. It’s like the enchantment of this place promised endless possibilities—that dreams might really come true someday.”
He sighed. “And now I’ve tainted those memories for you.”
Tasha shook her head. “No, you haven’t. Not really. I mean, yes, I’m sorry to hear that your home wasn’t as happy as I’d dreamed it was for the family that lived here. Even more so, now that I know you. But in a way, that’s the blessing of Christmas. The gift of Jesus brought light and beauty to our dark world.”
She stood and turned to face him. “God’s still in the business of answering prayers, Zed. Although my mom didn’t have much, she always said she was rich in the ways that were most important. She’d found the true joy of Christmas. Even in her darkest circumstances, she clung to that joy. So my greatest holiday memories are visiting this house and experiencing my mother’s childlike faith and simple joy during the holidays.” She paused. “As much as I love reminiscing and I’ve always been nostalgic, I just hope and pray that my future holds wonderful experiences just waiting to happen.”
* * *
Zed observed the colorful glittering tree in front of them as he pondered Tasha’s favorite Christmas memories. “I wish my mom could have had your mother’s hope and sense of wonder about things. It would have made things a lot easier for her. I don’t think she would have been so dependent on my dad to fulfill her every need.”
He had a sudden desire to make the day wonderful for Tasha. And beyond that, he determined that for every holiday they were together, maybe he could make memories for her that would replace her sad holiday experiences. That would be his gift to her. Something about her made him want the best for her and gave him the need to bless her.
“I have some ideas for today,” Tasha said with a smile. “Let’s watch vintage TV shows, roast marshmallows in the fire, eat our fave childhood meal—mac ’n’ cheese and hot dogs for me, which I noticed you have in stock—along with whatever you’d like to do, and at the end of the day we’ll have hot chocolate by the tree. Instead of reminiscing on what we didn’t have, at day’s end we can thank God for the good things we did have in our lives. Although I know it was hard with your dad being gone so much, there must have been some good things that you loved about him, too, right?”
He nodded, amazed at this woman. “Who are you, Tasha? I’ve never met anybody like you.”
She raised her chin at his words. “And you won’t again. So you’d better take advantage of these three months you have me,” she joked.
He could tell she expected him to laugh. But the comment struck an unexpected chord in his heart, leaving him speechless.
Zed peered out the window as another car drove up and slowed by the Victorian. This time he didn’t wave as he often did. Suddenly, pretending didn’t seem quite as fun anymore.
“What’s wrong?” Tasha asked.
Zed tried to shake his mood. “It’s nothing. Re
ally.”
Tasha scrutinized him. “All right, mister. No sad faces allowed for the next twenty-four hours. Let’s go.” She grabbed his arm.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see. Just get your coat.”
Zed obeyed. Tasha led him outside. “It’s perfect,” she said as she peered out at the blanket of snow. “Down on the ground,” she ordered.
“What?”
Tasha ran into the yard, found a space in between the decorations and collapsed. She waved her arms and feet. “Snow angels.”
He laughed. “C’mon, Tasha. I’m a grown man.”
“Maybe that’s your problem.” She flicked a curtain of snow at him.
He chuckled and reluctantly joined her, finding a spot and gingerly lying down. Surprisingly, looking up at the sky, the joy of gazing at the stars as a kid came back to him. He started to slowly move his arms and legs. With each movement he started to go faster until he was laughing aloud with childlike abandon.
When he was done, he noticed Tasha was watching him, an impish grin brightening her features. He stood and dusted himself off. He gazed at their matching angels.
“You missed a spot,” Tasha said. She gently dusted snow off his left shoulder. Her touch was as light as a feather.
“Okay, we have to give them names,” Tasha said. “Mine is Serefina.”
“I like it,” he responded. “It sounds like an angel’s name, delicate and sweet—” He started to add “like you” but decided against it.
“Thank you for the compliment. Now, what’s your angel’s name?”
He squinted his brow in thought. “Tasha the Great.”
Tasha’s eyes widened before she burst into gales of laughter. “Really? She’s kind of a husky angel, huh?”
He observed her. “Show my girl some love. She’s got strong shoulders to lighten others’ burdens, carry their prayers and bring them joy.” His gaze connected with her eyes until she looked away.
* * *
At the end of the day, after Tasha had retired to bed, Zed sat by the fireplace, satiated by the dying fire. Outside the living room window, a white marble moon and crystal stars shimmered in the sky. The day’s storm had blown through.
He was glad for some solitary time to reflect on probably the most interesting Christmas Eve he’d ever had.
They’d completed all of Tasha’s wishes for the day and his, too. She’d endured his childhood favorite meal of bologna on Wonder Bread, with grape jelly. In addition to watching old vintage TV shows, they’d watched his favorite holiday movie, It’s a Wonderful Life.
During their final hot chocolate and reflection, he’d recalled the things he loved about his dad. He’d admired his father’s intelligence, quick wit and the way the man knew so many random, useless facts. Which had made him hard to beat at trivia games. When Grant Evans poured on the charm, he was hard to resist. Maybe that was what had made him a successful executive, too. Zed realized he could acknowledge that although his father was a workaholic, the man had given him and his mom a great life, in terms of material things. There were Black families that would have longed to have the life he’d been blessed with.
When he’d finished telling Tasha these things, her soft brown eyes had sparkled. She’d said she was proud of him for being vulnerable and opening up to acknowledge the good things about his father. He’d resisted the urge to preen like a proud peacock.
I think you’ve just started your journey toward healing, she’d finally declared.
Her declaration had stayed with him long after their time together. Now he finally stood and stretched, then grabbed the fireplace poker and dabbed out the final dying embers.
His eyes fell on a photo of Aunt Zora on the mantel. Zora wore one of her elaborate, high-church hats, with a smart, fitted, peach-colored suit. Her taupe skin glowed, setting off her amber eyes, only slightly darker than his own. Her oil-black hair spilled around her shoulders, and her smile set off her full cheeks. He marveled at how much she resembled his mother. The only difference was that his mother’s eyes were lighter, like his own, and she had high, sleek cheekbones that dipped into sunken valleys, rather than Zora’s chipmunk-full cheeks.
Zed wondered when his aunt had cooked up the marriage scheme. Why couldn’t she have just given him the house? Hadn’t he been through enough drama with his dad’s bad behavior, and the untimely deaths of both his parents?
The stairs creaked behind him, and he turned to find Tasha had returned downstairs.
She had a determined look on her face. “I think we need to go to Union Station for Christmas tomorrow. You need to face your feelings about the place and the holiday, full on. Once and for all.”
Anxiety made his stomach gurgle. He wasn’t used to being called on his fear.
He watched Tasha’s eyes widen in surprise. She must have seen the distress on his face. He wasn’t used to being vulnerable. Putting a wall of steel around his heart had been the best way to protect himself from his father’s emotional blows. In his childhood world, he’d learned vulnerability opened you up like defenseless prey.
“You won’t be alone to face it. I’ll be with you,” she said.
Now it was his turn to be surprised. Warmth splayed across his chest like sunbeams. He gazed at the diminutive woman across from him. Her kindness and ability to see beyond his walls to his heart touched him. That wasn’t something most people could do, or took the time for, beyond his best friends. It made him want to give her the world even more—to replace her sad holiday experiences with happy memories, even if he just had three months and three holidays to do it.
Chapter Seven
Tasha’s body ached from lack of sleep after tossing and turning most of the night. She wasn’t used to waking up groggy on Christmas Day.
Even Milo, who usually was with Zed, must have sensed her anguish. He’d jumped on her bed and stayed by her side the whole night. He’d even endured her fitful twists and turns, which usually agitated him and made him scurry to more peaceful quarters.
Christmas Eve had been so wonderful. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun.
The intimacy she and Zed had experienced in doing their dual silly and serious tasks had emboldened her. Her intuition, along with Zed’s hints about his past, had helped her string together some things about him, including the reasons for his aversion to Union Station. The vulnerability and fear in his eyes had nearly done her in.
Tasha wondered if that was part of the reason Zed kept to himself. Maybe he’d never had anyone close enough to him to call him out on his stuff. While his protective mechanism of isolation kept a wall of safety around him, had it also kept him emotionally stifled because he didn’t deal with his issues?
She climbed out of bed. Milo shot from on top of the covers and headed for his pet bed, evidently upset his sleep had been interrupted.
Tasha showered and dressed before putting on her favorite emerald green silk dress pajamas and diamond post earrings her mother had given her for her eighteenth birthday.
When she went downstairs, it was quiet.
Bright Colorado sun poured diffused light through the draperies. Tasha opened the living room and kitchen curtains and started a pot of coffee. She liked that Zed didn’t have a fancy-pants coffee maker.
While the coffee percolated, she scampered out onto the porch and grabbed the newspaper. Although it was cloaked in thick orange plastic, it was coated with snow.
She observed the quiet holiday morning scene, peering again at the place where she and her mother had once stood, taking in the house. Tasha looked heavenward. “Merry Christmas, Mama,” she whispered.
After bringing the paper in, she placed it on the kitchen table, along with an empty mug for Zed for when he awakened and decided to come downstairs.
Tasha retrieved the box of Froot Loops, of which Zed had co
nsumed three bowls on Christmas Eve during their fun challenge. She hoped repeating his pleasurable meal from the day before might bring him joy again.
Pouring herself a cup of coffee, she doctored it with cream and sugar to her liking, then headed to the tall Christmas tree. Some of her holiday glee returned as she observed the gifts beneath the tree.
An envelope-size gift, wrapped in gold tinsel and adorned with red-and-green ribbon sat on top of the pile. She picked up the odd present. Her name, in Zed’s large, generous handwriting, was on the card. She put down her coffee mug and unwrapped the gift.
There were three greeting cards inside. A folded piece of notebook paper sailed from the wrapping and danced to the floor. Tasha retrieved the note.
Tasha, these three cards are for three new holiday experiences to hopefully replace the memories of your three holiday breakups. Merry Christmas. —Zed.
Tasha cupped her mouth in surprise and awe.
She heard rustling upstairs and realized Zed was awake. Her hands shook as she hurriedly rewrapped Zed’s gift to her and tossed it back under the tree.
Tasha ran upstairs, then headed to her bedroom closet and removed an art book from her luggage. She’d made pencil drawings since childhood. When she was twelve, she was pursued by an art school. But she decided she preferred to sketch as a hobby, rather than something she had to labor at as a career.
Her fingers flipped through the art tablet, fanning the pages until she came to the special drawing for Zed. She’d worked hard on it from the day she knew they’d be married and together for Christmas. It was a drawing of Zed as she imagined he must have looked as a small boy at Union Station. He was peering up lovingly at someone. Since she didn’t know what Zed’s dad looked like, she’d just drawn a man’s strong hand at the top left edge of the picture. The large hand was holding Zed’s small one. He was looking up adoringly at his father, his young face beaming. Tasha prayed Zed would like her gift because she’d poured her heart into it.
Claiming His Christmas Inheritance Page 8
