The Christmas Sisters

by Sarah Morgan

  Today he wore a bespoke suit with a black shirt open at the neck. She noticed absently that his hair needed a cut.

  They joked together that as Creative Director of the agency his appreciation for design started with himself. This is a creative business, honey, and before I pitch for a brand, I have to pitch myself.

  They’d met when Jason had been working on an ad campaign for one of the beauty brands she’d also worked on.

  Jason’s star had continued to climb, whereas hers had fallen to earth so hard she was still stepping over the broken fragments.

  For a moment she saw the businessman rather than her husband.

  This, she thought, was how the people at work saw him. They didn’t see him sprawled with the Sunday papers and a severe case of bedhead. They saw the dynamic creative director of a top Manhattan multimedia agency.

  Jason had done well. His boss liked him and he was due another promotion and a fat salary increase.

  Beth would have forfeited the extra money to have him home more. It wasn’t only that she would have loved more family time, it was that somewhere along the way she’d lost the feeling they were a partnership, but she was about to address that.

  She’d thought all afternoon about the best way to handle the conversation but in the end decided to be straight.

  Jason pulled her toward him and kissed her. “How was your day?”

  Beth wrapped her arms round his neck. She liked the fact that Jason was only a few inches taller than she was. They fitted perfectly.

  “Hannah has canceled tomorrow. Business trip.”

  “Does that mean I don’t have to rush home from work for an early dinner?” He let go of her and took off his jacket. “What’s wrong? Has she upset you? This is Hannah, remember? Her canceling is not exactly a surprise, is it?”

  It wasn’t a surprise, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t disappointed.

  She was about to tell him how she felt when there was a chorus of girlish screams followed by the muted thunder of bare feet as the girls pounded out of their bedroom.

  “Daddy, Daddy.” They were so excited it was hard to be annoyed, even though she knew she’d have to settle them again and that meant another hour at least before she could have the conversation she was desperate to have.

  “Whoa.” Jason caught Ruby and swung her up high until she squealed. “How’s my girl?”

  “Mommy bought me a new fire engine.”

  “She did? Another one? So I guess that means you have a whole fleet now.” His gaze snagged Beth’s and she felt herself blush.

  Ruby squeezed him tightly. “I want to be a firefighter.”

  “You will be a fantastic firefighter. No fire will dare to burn with you nearby.”

  “Will you play with me? Can I save you from a burning building?”

  “Not now because you’re supposed to be asleep. Maybe tomorrow.”

  Melly pressed close to his leg, more reserved than her sister. He set Ruby down and scooped her up. “How’s my other girl?”

  Melly laid her head on his shoulder. “Ruby is always telling me what to do.”

  Jason laughed. “She has great leadership qualities, don’t you, Ruby? And so do you.”

  “I don’t like shouting.”

  “Leadership has nothing to do with shouting, honey.” He stroked her hair. “One day you are going to have a very important job and everyone is going to listen to you. You won’t need to shout.”

  Beth loved the fact that he never favored one child over the other. She loved the way he was with the girls, even though she knew he got the good parts. If parenting was a meal, then Jason came straight in at dessert, bypassing all other courses including vegetables. He skipped the tantrums, the food fights and the relentless arguments. He also escaped the unique brand of loneliness that came from being at home with young children. Not that she was alone, of course. With two young children, she was rarely alone, but that didn’t stop her feeling lonely. She’d discovered it was an impossible concept to explain to people who weren’t in the same situation.

  “If you want to put them back to bed, I’ll finish off dinner.”

  “Daddy, will you read us a story?”

  “Yes.” Jason caught Beth’s eye. “Why are you looking at me like that? What have I done?”

  “I’ve already read them two stories and settled them down. They need sleep.” Also, Beth had been with them all day and she was ready to sit down with a glass of wine. She felt brain dead, which made no sense because these days her brain didn’t get much of a workout.

  Jason frowned. “One story won’t hurt, surely? I haven’t seen them all day.”

  Three pairs of eyes watched her hopefully. She knew she should say no.

  “They need routine, Jason.”

  “I know, but just this once.” He leaned across and kissed her, which basically meant she no longer had any say in it, then held out his arms to the girls and carried them back to bed.

  Ruby’s voice carried from the bedroom. “Daddy, can I sleep with my new fire engine?”

  Beth walked to the kitchen and checked the casserole.

  She stirred, adjusted the seasoning, breathing in the cinnamon and spice scent of the warming winter dish. It was one of her mother’s recipes and it reminded her of home.

  She loved this time of year. She found the lead-up to the holiday season almost as seductive as the holiday itself. She loved gazing into brightly lit store windows, enjoyed ice-skating in Central Park and their annual trip to the Christmas tree lighting at the Rockefeller Center. The previous year they’d taken the girls to see the New York City Ballet perform The Nutcracker. For once, Ruby had stopped wriggling, hypnotized by the dancers whirling round the stage. Melly had been enchanted, utterly lost in the world of Sugar Plum Fairies and glistening snowflakes, all her princess fantasies coming true to Tchaikovsky’s romantic score.

  Even Jason, who had previously declared he’d rather stand in Times Square buck naked than go to the ballet, had admitted the evening had been magical. What he was really saying, of course, was that watching the faces of his children had been magical.

  I love these moments, he’d said as they’d walked along snow-dusted streets to a small bistro with fogged windows and fairy lights that had been bathed in so much festive atmosphere Ruby asked if Santa would be arriving soon.

  Beth loved those moments, too, but the difference was that Jason only had those moments.

  He had the bathed, excited, scrubbed, fantasy version of parenthood.

  She had the reality.

  Was it wrong of her to want more?

  By the time Jason joined her, she had laid the table and warmed the plates.

  “They’re growing up fast.” He’d taken a quick shower and changed out of his suit. Dressed in jeans and a black sweater, he looked younger. Less the ambitious creative, and more the man she’d married. “Something smells good. What are we having?”

  “Lamb. I was going to cook it for Hannah tomorrow, but since she isn’t coming—” She shrugged and picked up one of the plates.

  “Hannah’s loss is my gain.”

  Beth spooned rice onto a plate, added a generous portion of casserole and passed it to him. She didn’t want to think about Hannah.

  “How was your day? How was the pitch?” She held on to her own news, wanting to pick exactly the right moment.

  “It was good.” He waited for her to serve herself and then picked up his fork. “Sam called me into his office today.”

  Sam was Jason’s boss. “What did he want?”

  “Conrad Bennett is leaving.”

  “Leaving?” Beth toyed with her food. It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested in his office gossip, but all she could think about was the phone call she’d had earlier. “But he’s Chief Creative Director. Why would he leave?”

  �
�He’s setting up his own agency, and you know what that means—”

  “He’s taking you with him?”

  “No. Better than that.” Jason picked up his wine and raised the glass in a toast. “I’m being offered his job.”

  Beth gave a squeal. “You got a promotion?” She ignored the little voice in her head shouting out that this conversation was supposed to be about her career, not Jason’s.

  “In the last year I’ve brought in more clients than any other member of the agency.”

  She wondered what the promotion would mean for her and felt guilty for being selfish. “Chief Creative Director. I’m proud of you.” And she was. Was it wrong that she was also a teeny bit jealous?

  There was a gleam of excitement in his eyes. “Yes. It’s the best Christmas gift. And talking of Christmas gifts, tell me what you’d like and it’s yours. New dress? Coat? Sexy boots? Think about it and write a letter to Santa.”

  I’d like to go back to work.

  She’d counted on Jason adapting his schedule to finish work early a couple of days a week. She’d counted on him being there for the girls. It was as if he had mapped out his future and forgotten her.

  “It was a shock, although a good shock, obviously—” he dug his fork in the rice “—but it got me thinking about you. About us, and our future.”

  The vague feeling of resentment floated away, leaving warmth in its place.

  “I’ve been thinking about us, too.” She took a mouthful of wine. “There’s something I need to say to you, and I’d like you to hear me out before you speak. We talked about it a while ago, but not recently.” Nerves fluttered in her stomach. She had no idea what his reaction was going to be.

  “Stop.” Jason reached out and covered her hand with his. “I know what you’re about to say.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. It didn’t seem worth mentioning again when the girls were little and such a handful, but they’re older now and you have more time on your hands.”

  It hadn’t occurred to her that this might be easy. “You’ve been thinking about it, too?”

  “It’s perfect timing for our family.” He went back to his food. “This is delicious, by the way. You’re a great cook, Beth. In fact, you’re great at pretty much everything.”

  Did he realize exactly what it would entail? “If we did this, I’d be under a lot more pressure. I thought perhaps your mother might help out. And you’d have to help more. You wouldn’t mind?”

  “We’re a team, Beth. And of course my mother will help. Try keeping her away. She’ll be as excited as I am.” He helped himself to more rice. “The timing of these things is never perfect, but this is about as perfect as it gets. We should go for it.”

  She felt a rush of elation.

  She should have talked to him sooner. She should have mentioned how lonely she was, and how she’d felt her skills and confidence slowly draining away. She was touched that he’d noticed she needed more. “How would this fit with your promotion?”

  “Sam knows the score. I’m a father. Sometimes I need to be there for my family. I can juggle work and home. I’ve been doing it for years. It’s one of the reasons I wouldn’t leave the company. It has a great culture.”

  Was juggling the right word? She knew that for her to work, too, they were going to need to display more juggling skills than a circus performer.

  “It’s going to be a big change for us as a family, but I know we can make this work. I’m excited.”

  “Me, too. I love you, baby.”

  “I love you, too.” Tears stung her eyes. She was so very lucky to be married to him. “Do you think the girls will be okay with it? I feel guilty.” She was desperate for reassurance that she wasn’t a bad mother. “I’m worried they’ll think they’re not enough.”

  “It will be great for the girls. So they’ll have a little less of you...” He reached for his wine and shrugged. “Quality, not quantity, right?”

  Beth shifted in her seat.

  Did the girls have quality?

  There were days when she felt the best she achieved was to hold it all together, but right now she was feeling too euphoric to indulge in a session of maternal self-flagellation.

  Jason stood up and cleared the plates, and she followed him into the kitchen and fetched dessert.

  Was it too late to call Kelly back tonight?

  “I need to arrange a time to go and meet them. Is there a day this week that you could work from home?”

  He piled the plates onto the countertop above the dishwasher. “Meet who?”

  “The team.” Beth carried dessert to the table. Instead of the frothy, extravagant offering she’d planned for Hannah, she’d baked plums in rum and brown sugar. Normally she was careful with dessert, but she’d managed to convince herself this was fruit.

  “You want to see someone before you’re even pregnant?” Jason sat down again. “Is that usual?”

  Beth stared at him. “What?”

  Jason spooned plums into the deep-sided white bowls that had been a gift from his mother the previous Christmas. “I guess it never hurts to have a doctor check you out. You do look pretty tired. Maybe you’re anemic. But if you’re seeing someone, I want to come with you. I want to be there for you.” He pushed the plums toward her. “Aren’t you having any? Or are you already off alcohol?”

  Beth felt as if she’d stepped off a cliff. Her stomach swooped and her head spun. “Pregnant? What are you talking about?”

  Jason froze, the spoon in his hand suspended in midair. “Having another baby. What were you talking about?”

  “Work.” Her throat was dry. The situation should have been comical, but she’d never felt less like laughing. Another baby? The thought of it made her heart pound with panic.

  There was a long, loaded silence. “Work?”

  Beth sat down hard on the chair. “Yes. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. That’s what I thought I was talking to you about.”

  The spoon clattered back into the serving dish, spattering juice and rum. Neither noticed. “I thought you were talking about growing our family. Having more kids.”

  “Jason, the last thing I want is more kids. How could you even think that would be a good idea?” She was almost hyperventilating and Jason looked as stunned as she felt, although for different reasons apparently.

  “But we adore the girls.” He sounded bemused.

  “Of course we do. I’m not saying I don’t love the children. I’m saying I can’t handle more.”

  “Don’t underestimate yourself. You’re incredible. I mean, look at this—” He waved his hand in the general direction of the table and the kitchen. “You’ve been with them all day and you still manage to produce this. You’re a superstar.”

  “Let me rephrase, Jason—I don’t want to handle more. At least, not more parenting. I want to go back to work. I want more from life than domestic grind.”

  The warmth in his eyes was replaced by hurt. “I didn’t realize the girls and I came under the heading of ‘domestic grind.’”

  How had this conversation gone downhill so fast?

  It was like watching a spool of thread unravel, knowing there was nothing she could do to stop it.

  “It’s tough being at home with kids all the time, Jason.”

  “I know you work hard.” His jaw was set. Rigid. The way it always was when they had difficult conversations. “We both work hard.”

  “This isn’t a competition. It’s not about agreeing who works hardest. The difference is that you’re doing what you love, while I’m losing every skill I ever had.”

  He stood up so suddenly the chair crashed to the floor.

  Beth was on her feet in an instant. “You’ll wake the girls and it will take ages to settle them again.”

  “And that would be bad, wouldn’t it,”
he said, “because you’ve had enough of them for one day?”

  The injustice of his words stung. She knew she wasn’t doing a good job of explaining how she felt, but she also knew he wasn’t really listening. He was thinking about his own feelings, not hers. “I love the girls, and you know it.”

  “We talked about having three kids. Maybe even four.”

  “That was before we had any. I didn’t realize how much of me they’d consume.”

  “Consume? You make them sound like monsters.”

  “No! I—” How could she make him understand? No matter how many different ways she phrased it, he didn’t seem to hear her. Or maybe he didn’t want to hear her. He didn’t want his world overturned. “I love being with them, but I’ve been with them every day for the past seven years, and now I’m ready for something more. I can’t just be an adjunct to everyone else in the family.”

  Jason lifted the chair and sat down again. “You said it was what you wanted.”

  “When I was first pregnant, yes.” She thought about Melly’s first steps and the first time Ruby had smiled at her. “I wouldn’t have missed it for anything. I know I’m lucky to have been able to be at home in the early years, but things change.”

  “Family has always been the number one priority for you.” He rubbed his fingers over his forehead. “You were so young when you lost your own parents—”

  “I don’t want to talk about that.”

  “I know. No one in your family talks about it, but it’s relevant, Beth!”

  “Something that happened twenty-five years ago has no relevance to my life today.” She tried not to think about the message she’d deleted from her phone. Had Hannah had the same phone call? She could have asked, but there was no way she’d broach that topic with her sister. Neither Hannah nor Suzanne liked to talk about the accident and Beth understood that.

  She’d taken a look at news clippings from that time and had felt as if she was living the trauma firsthand.

  There had been a particularly distressing one of Suzanne being hounded by the press.

  It had disturbed Beth so badly she’d never looked at it again.