Phil kneels in front of me. “Babe, what is it?”
I dodge him. “It’s nothing. Let’s just go home. I don’t want to be here.” I don’t want to be anywhere, but knowing my actions have added an additional weight to this already overburdened family is incomprehensible for me in my present state of mind.
Unwillingly, Phil drags me to my feet and pulls me toward the bank of windows. “What do you see?” he asks.
I don’t even glance out the expansive bank of windows before I mutter, “The city.”
“Really look, and tell me what you see outside of Keene’s window. Why would I have parked here at Hudson in all of the places in New York?” Phil grabs me by the shoulders and turns me so I’m flush against the icy panes.
It’s impossible to miss when it’s so close I can practically touch it. Even from the height we’re at, it’s an impressive sight—a one hundred foot tall tree with close to 50,000 lights.
The Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree.
“We’ve gone every year since we started dating. You told me how your parents used to take you as a kid, and we made it our thing.” Phil’s voice holds determination and strength—a strength I’m desperate to cling to. “Who knows if we were followed here by some reporter or a family member who wants to harass you? I’ll never let you be hurt if I can prevent it. I want—no, I need you safe. So, if we have to bring these two with us for our walk around the tree, so be it, but no one gets to take our night from you. From us.” Phil crosses his arms over his heart.
A heart I laid my burdens on earlier this morning.
“You won’t even know we’re there,” Keene promises, even as he’s shrugging a heavy winter coat on. “Caleb and I will be like any other couple there.”
Caleb looks thoughtful. “Okay, but if you don’t hold my hand the entire time, I refuse to buy you a hot chocolate.”
“Fuck you,” Keene says, but without any heat.
“Or that either,” is Caleb’s quick response.
I let out a bark of a laugh and say, “If you’re sure.”
Caleb grins at Keene, who rolls his eyes. “Unlike Phil, I don’t think it’s crass to go on a date with my wife’s brother. Let’s go.”
* * *
Even from blocks away,excitement bubbles around the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree. Ever since I was a little boy, I’ve always believed there’s a magic about this tree. If I could just get close enough, the wish I would make on its mighty branches would come true.
I wished for the arguing to stop at my house, and while my parents’ divorce wasn’t ideal to a young child, it certainly was the answer to a prayer.
I wished, as I’m sure many of the young faces looking at the tree with wonder do, for a ton of Christmas presents. I didn’t expect to get them, as my Christmas was divided between two homes, but I was blessed by parents who loved me beyond reason even if they’d fallen out of love with each other.
I wished with all my might for an early acceptance letter from Yale my senior year, knowing from an early age I wanted to follow in my father’s footsteps and become a doctor. He raced over after I called him, tears in my eyes over my acceptance. It was the first time my father stepped foot back in our old home after cheating on my mother, and she and her new husband answered the door with beaming smiles on their faces.
In that moment, I realized, amidst my euphoria over my acceptance, that life moves on even when it deals you a blow so devastating you’re temporarily brought to your knees.
As the bells ring out from people trying to collect money for charities, Phil and I approach the enormous spruce tree. He’s been quiet since we left Hudson, leaving me to my thoughts as we navigate our way through the throng of people heading in the same direction we are toward the lights, excitement, and joy. How could you feel anything but those things when you’re standing in front of something that’s been harvested to represent your Christmas dreams?
“How are you doing?” Phil slips his arm over mine, tugging me close.
I can’t look away from the tree just yet. “I’m so glad you brought me. I needed this. I needed to remember…”
“That you’re allowed to ask for wishes too?” Phil is astoundingly astute.
“Yes.” I lapse back into silence. We stand there for a long time before I close my eyes tightly. Flashes of yesterday run through my mind like the downbeat of a carol.
Love. Frustration. Horror. Fear. Anger. Sadness. Love.
My days always begin and end with love because of the man standing beside me.
Closing my eyes, I make my Christmas wish. Tears leak from beneath my dark lashes and freeze against my cool cheeks.
I only hope someday it will come true.
