by Lisa Lace
Megan raises an eyebrow and lowers her voice. “Jack doesn’t believe in Santa anymore.”
Tom narrows his eyes playfully and spins on his heels with his hands on his hips to look at Jack. “Is that so?”
Jack giggles. “Everyone knows he’s not real.”
“I’m going to put out these cookies just in case. You never know.”
Megan laughs. “And the carrot?”
“This? This is for Rudolph.”
Tom sets the carrot down on the coffee table, then sinks down onto the sofa at my side, putting his arm around me.
He leans in toward me. “When did Jack stop believing in Santa?”
“A mouthy classmate last year caught his dad putting the gifts under the tree.”
“That sucks. I had my costume all ready to surprise him.”
“Really?”
The thought of Tom dressed up in red and white fur with a big fake beard makes me laugh.
He grins. “No. Bet you’d love that though, right?” He nudges me and winks.
Laughing with him is good. Lately, we seem to be laughing a lot. Yet every time I do, it’s quickly followed by a wave of sadness, because I know we’re running out of time in this pretend family life.
I hold onto Tom’s arm tightly, resting my head on his shoulder. At least tonight he’s mine. It’s a lovely evening. We watch a movie, and the kids put the gifts they’ve wrapped under the tree. We wait for them to go to bed before we begin to wrap ours.
Jack hugs us both before he goes upstairs. Megan smiles and throws a wave to both of us. There’s no tension and no barriers between us.
I smile at Tom once they’ve both gone to bed. “It took a while, but I think we finally got through to them.”
Tom smiles at me, pulling me closer and kissing the top of my head. “I couldn’t have done it without you. You’ve been amazing.”
“You stepped up, Tom. The kids adore you.” I pause. “Will you be coming back to see them more often now?” I wonder if he’ll pick up on my real question: Will you be coming back to see me?
Tom reaches under the sofa to pull out a waiting roll of wrapping paper, considering my question. He turns to me and nods. “I won’t be a stranger again.”
Neither of us says any more about it. Part of me wants to press Tom for a real, solid answer; some promise of commitment for after the holidays are over. He doesn’t offer one, and I don’t push him. I’m enjoying the evening too much to risk inviting any sadness in. We’ll save that conversation for another time.
We start wrapping the kids’ presents. We’ve bought our own for them, and some on behalf of Laura. Tomorrow, we’ll go to the hospital and open them all together.
I watch Tom folding a snowman-patterned sheet of paper around the edges of a new games console he bought for Jack. I know he probably spent too much, and Laura might raise her eyebrows, but I can’t tell Tom off this time.
I know that he put a lot of thought into his gifts. He chose that console after playing lots of games with Jack and learning what he enjoys.
For Megan, he bought a designer dress that she saw a celebrity wearing on TV and said she loved. I’d balked when I’d seen the price. I remember the way Tom began grinning when Megan was fawning over the dress, already planning to get her one like it for Christmas.
This time, Tom’s spending is different. He’s not trying to pay off his family so they stop bugging him, or taking a wild guess at what they might like, or sending gifts through his PA. He’s chosen gifts that he knows the kids will love—though being Tom, he still didn’t think too much about the price tag.
I watch him pull the dress toward him and try to fold it.
I laugh and gesture for him to hand it over. “Let me,” I say. “You spend that much money on a dress, you want to make sure it’s folded right!”
Tom frowns. “Do you think I’ve spent too much?”
Yes. “No. It’s Christmas. A one-off treat won’t hurt them.”
“I tried to think, ‘What would Laura say?’ I got them one big gift each and then a few smaller ones. I didn’t want to spoil them.”
“You’ve done a great job. I know they’ll love them.”
I look at Tom fondly. Even though he’s trying to do what Laura tells him, he’s probably gone too far. But now I know him well enough to be sure his heart is in the right place. This isn’t a status gesture, this is sincere generosity and a desire to give the family a Christmas to remember.
“What did you get Laura?” I ask him.
Tom pulls another box toward him. It looks like computer software.
“It’s a project management program,” he explains. “My team swears by it. It organizes all your work and appointments, and all sorts of other stuff I don’t understand. It generates invoices; that kind of thing. I thought it might help make Laura’s job a bit easier, so she doesn’t have to work so hard.”
I smile. “That’s a sweet idea, Tom.”
“I didn’t know what to get her,” he says.
“It’s perfect.”
“What did you get?”
“I got Jack a couple of games and a new backpack for school. I got Megan some makeup and a new pair of hair straighteners. I got Laura a cushion and the new Bridget Jones DVD.”
“Good choices.”
“I’m hoping for a great Christmas.”
“It will be.”
Tom smiles as he says it. I can see the excitement sparkling in his eyes. He looks like a kid himself, tearing off tape with his teeth to stick down the paper, writing names on Christmas-themed name tags. It’s clearly been a long time since he’s had a real Christmas.
“It’s good to see you smiling.”
He looks up. “I know. I was dreading spending the holidays here, but I’m glad I came.”
“I’m glad, too.”
We look at each other, the weight of unspoken words burning between us. Tom’s the first to look away. Disappointed, I turn my focus back to the gifts I’m wrapping. Maybe it’s not the time for that conversation. Or maybe he has nothing to say.
Tom
I wake in the morning when I hear Jack’s feet on the stairs. It’s only seven, but I guess he can’t wait any longer.
I smile. Jack’s enthusiasm is a pleasant change from my recent holidays; each Christmas waking up alone, not knowing what to do with myself when work isn’t knocking my door down.
It’s Zoe’s voice I hear next; well, her laugh. It echoes down the hall as she encourages Jack’s excitement. Megan opens her door next. I hear the catch as she turns the handle, soon followed by the sound of her steps padding toward the bathroom.
I don’t want to get up. I want to spend a while longer listening to the sounds of a normal family Christmas. Not quite normal.
We’re going to see Laura in the hospital to exchange our gifts as soon as we’ve eaten breakfast, then come back for Christmas dinner.
I can’t stay in bed any longer, so I place my feet in my slippers and head downstairs. Everybody is still in their pajamas in the family room, gathered around the tree we chose together. Jack is scrutinizing each gift from a distance. I can see that he’s itching to grab one, but he stays kneeling a few feet away, waiting for the rest of us to gather.
“Merry Christmas, everyone!” All three of them look up at once with matching grins. I grin right back. “Are you ready for a great day?”
Jack bounces up and down on his knees. “Are we going to see Mom?”
“Of course, we are. First things first, though: coffee.” I head into the kitchen and switch on the coffee-maker. I lean on the counter to watch it drop into the pot. I love the smell of fresh coffee.
As I’m facing the machine, I feel arms slip around my waist. I spin to find myself face-to-face with Zoe. She smiles up at me.
She’s a vision, as always. Her hair is ruffled from sleep, falling over her shoulders in fluffy waves. She’s wearing a set of reindeer pajamas with her polka-dot house coat thrown over the top. She lifts her l
ips to mine, kissing me softly. “Merry Christmas, Tom.”
“Merry Christmas.”
Zoe leans back against the counter at my side, her elbows on the marble. She closes her eyes and lets out a long, content breath. “Christmas is here at last.”
“It sure is.”
“It’s weird without Laura here.”
It is strange to be in Laura’s house, with Laura’s kids, on Christmas morning without her here. But waking up to the sight of Zoe by the Christmas tree doesn’t feel strange at all. It feels right. “I know. We’ll drink this and head straight out. I know Laura will be dying to see the kids.”
We drink our coffee and load the gifts into the car. When we arrive at the hospital, it takes three trips between us to get them all into Laura’s room.
It’s festive inside. Someone has set up a small artificial tree in the corner and hung up some tinsel along the ceiling. The kids lay the presents out beneath the tree, then hug their mom.
Laura’s looking a lot better. She’s even sitting up. There’s some color in her face, and there’s hardly any trace of the cuts and bruises she first had after the accident. She’s moving her hands and arms more easily and has a ready smile from the moment we enter the room.
“Merry Christmas, everyone!”
“Merry Christmas, Mom!”
I step toward Laura and lean in to kiss her cheek. “Merry Christmas.”
Zoe is standing slightly on the sidelines, waiting for the family to greet each other. Laura beckons her over, then holds out her arms for a sisterly hug.
Zoe gingerly hugs her back, careful not to squeeze too hard. “Merry Christmas, Laura! It’s good to see you looking so well.”
“I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to coming home.”
I pull up a chair at Laura’s side and smile. “It’s all arranged. The nurse is ready to start next week.”
Zoe frowns. “What nurse?”
Laura answers her brightly. “Tom’s arranged a live-in nurse to come stay at my house for a while until I’m back on my feet, so to speak.”
Looking betrayed, Megan turns to me. “Does that mean you’re leaving?”
“I’ve got to go back to work in the New Year.”
“But Mom’s not well yet.”
“Megan!” Laura interrupts gently. “Your uncle can’t leave his business forever. I’m sure he’ll be back before long. Won’t you, Tom?”
I nod. “I promise.”
Megan looks tearful, but she stops herself from showing any emotion. “You’ll mean to visit, but once you get back to New York, you’ll get caught up like you always do.”
“I’m going to do my best not to let that happen.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Zoe hanging onto my words. I know that she’s waiting for me to bring up my imminent return to New York and what will happen between us then. Little does she know that I’ve got it all figured out.
After everyone is finished greeting Laura, it’s time to open gifts. Soon, they forget about me leaving and get caught up in the magic.
I grin from ear to ear when I watch Megan open her new dress. When she realizes it’s an authentic designer brand, she shrieks with excitement, then leaps into my arms. “I can’t believe you remembered! Thank you!”
Laura loves her software. As far as I can see, it’s boring as hell, but Laura is thrilled. “This is going to be a lifesaver!” she gushes.
Jack is over the moon with his new console, tearing it out of its packaging and moving his thumbs over a new set of controls.
Finally, it’s my turn to give Zoe her present. I smile knowingly as I watch her accept the little gift-wrapped box.
Her lips part in surprise, and then her expression softens. She looks up at me from under her lashes, biting down on her lip like she’s suddenly shy. I can understand why—all eyes are on her.
Laura and Megan are leaning forward intently. Even I’m holding my breath. I know that Zoe’s not one for expensive things, but I really tried to get her something she’d love.
She unwraps the paper and sees that there’s a jewelry box inside. She silently lifts the lid, then gasps. Her eyes fill up with tears; she’s touched.
Inside is a necklace I spent hours choosing. It’s understated but special. The necklace is formed like a flower; platinum and diamond petals encircle a small pearl. The whole pendant is smaller than a dime—I know Zoe wouldn’t like to be dripping in diamonds. This is something inconspicuous, but meaningful.
I want to tell her that I’ve never bought a woman jewelry before, but I don’t know if she’ll believe me. I hope she realizes that I wanted to give her something thoughtful and meant just for her.
“Oh, Tom.” She takes a quick breath. “It’s beautiful.” Her response is worth every moment spent crawling internet pages and walking through shopping malls to search for the perfect gesture.
She lifts the delicate chain from its velvet bed and holds it out to me. “Would you?”
I stand behind her, and she lifts her hair so I can thread the chain around her neck. I fasten the clasp, and she turns to show me.
The necklace rests just below her throat, between her collarbones. She lifts it between her fingers and turns it from side to side.
She smiles. “It’s a flower.”
“Do you like it?”
“I love it.”
Megan covers her mouth with her hands in girlish excitement and spins on her chair to grin at her mom. Laura has the same knowing grin plastered on her face.
Jack doesn’t quite pick up on the nuance that the girls understand. “That’s pretty, Aunt Zoe!”
“It is, isn’t it?” Zoe turns to me, and without caring who’s watching, she gently presses her lips against mine, then slips her fingers into my hand. “Thank you.” She pauses, remembering something, and pulls away. “I have something for you too!”
She picks up a large, round, and tall gift from under the tree and carries it to me. When she passes it over, the weight takes me by surprise.
I laugh. “What is it?”
“Open it!”
I pull back the paper to find a black glass pot filled with soil and a chrysanthemum plant in bloom; its flowers are puffy, round, and red.
I notice a little card resting against the stem, but Zoe blushes when I reach for it and places her hand over mine, shaking her head. “Read that later.”
Laura laughs. “I don’t want to know what that note says.”
“Is it instructions on how to keep it alive?”
Zoe grins. “No, but I’ll email you those. We don’t want you drowning the poor thing.”
“Thank you. I love it.”
I really do. It’s not big, flashy, or expensive, but it’s a little reminder of Zoe that I can take home. There’s nothing I can think of that would mean more.
Zoe
Christmas dinner is wonderful. The kids are excited and full of life. Megan has changed into her new dress and must have posted a hundred pictures on Instagram already. It’s good to see her feeling like this after what she’s been through. Her break-up with Justin really knocked her confidence. She deserves that dress.
Jack couldn’t wait to plug in his new console. We all took turns joining in on the game. I couldn’t get the hang of the toggles and buttons, but Tom was a natural. I laughed every time I heard Jack cheering for himself when he won a race or shot a bad guy as he gave each of his games a try.
Over dinner, we laughed and talked. We pulled British Christmas crackers, and all groaned at the bad jokes. We let Megan drink half a glass of champagne. We set a timer on the camera on Megan’s phone and took a group photo in front of the tree.
Then, when everything was eaten and cleared away, we played board games, charades, and Pictionary until almost midnight. Only then did the kids go to sleep, bellies full and smiles on their faces.
I’ve been on cloud nine all day. I keep finding myself fiddling with the flower around my neck. I know Tom. If he’d been t
rying to impress me with money, he’d have bought the biggest, most expensive diamond that money could buy. Instead, he bought something sweet and simple that made him think of me. I loved it.
I love him.
At last, we’re alone. We clear up the last of the empty chocolate wrappers and scraps of paper from our games, then settle down together on the couch with the last of the champagne. “What a day!” Tom grins. “I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun at Christmas.”
“Me, neither. It’s just a shame Laura couldn’t join in for the whole day.”
“She’ll be home in time for New Year’s.”
The thought of New Year’s makes my stomach sink. “And then you leave two days later.”
Tom takes my hands and nods. “I need to go back to work. I’ve been away since October.”
I look away so he can’t see my eyes filling with tears, and clear my throat so he can’t hear it catching. “I understand.”
“It’s not over between us, you know. Not if you don’t want it to be.”
My heart beats faster at the first sign Tom has given me that there might be a future for us. I catch his eyes in a deep, hopeful gaze. “What do you want, Tom?”
He holds my gaze with a firm, steady stare. “I don’t want this to end.”
“So, what? We see each other a couple of times a year? On holidays?”
“Sssh,” Tom whispers. He smiles. “We’ll be fine. You’ll see.”
His answer doesn’t make sense to me. How does he know? Maybe, like me, he doesn’t want to overshadow a beautiful day with sad realities. I decide to drop the matter for now. We still have a couple of weeks left before we have to confront the fact that the New Year will take Tom back to New York.
I wonder if he’s read my note? I don’t ask Tom whether he’s read it, in case he’s not brought it up for a reason. Maybe he doesn’t feel the same.
My thoughts are chased away when Tom pulls me toward him into a deep, passionate kiss. “Let’s go upstairs.”
