She raised a shoulder and looked around my little mismatched living room. “It was the opposite of this in every way.” She shook her head.
My eyebrows scrunched down. “In what way?”
She spun the ring on her hand. I noticed her doing that when she was nervous.
There was something in her past she wasn’t telling me.
“Oh, we had Christmas. It was big, gaudy, with no magic, and no connection.” She paused. “Thanks again for my Christmas tree.” Faith relaxed back into my chest, and I rubbed her shoulder. “I think it’s probably the most thoughtful gift I have ever been given.”
I didn’t know what that feeling was like from my parents, but I knew what it was from a spouse. Cassie never bought me a gift. Not a Christmas present, a birthday present, nothing.
I thought of Christmases far past where my parents had little to give, but what they had they gave to me, and I always felt love. I hoped Danny would feel love every Christmas. Faith watched the Christmas tree. I hoped Faith spent every Christmas from here on out feeling love and connection.
We sat there in silence and enjoyed the Christmas tree.
“What about your Christmases as a kid?” Faith asked.
I rubbed the sleeve of her shirt. “It was pretty similar to this.” I looked down at her. “Although Santa had to make do with the burnt cookies.” I remembered Dad choking down burnt meals, each one with a smile and thank you. “With my ex though, it sounds like it was more like your childhood.” I sighed. “It took me a long time to realize we wanted different things.”
She spun her ring and stared at the tree. “It took me a while to step away too. Mom’s still saying I’ll come crawling back when I run out of money. But I’m not going back.” She glanced up at me. “I’m sorry about your ex.”
I looked down at her. “Sorry about your childhood.” Her mom trying to get her to come back home had to be difficult. Did that mean she would eventually leave? She mentioned only her mom. “What about your dad?”
She sighed. “Oh, he is there in every family portrait anyway.” I felt her shrug. “I hardly saw him, and he took a ‘mother knows best’ approach with me.”
“My dad died when I was in junior high. A heart attack.”
She rubbed her hand down my arm. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sure that was very difficult for you and your mom.”
I looked at the Christmas tree. “It was hard, but we found our new normal before too long.”
We sat there in silence, but it didn’t feel uneasy. It felt safe and warm.
“What do you love about coaching?” Her hand reached up and was splayed out on my chest, and my heart rate skyrocketed with the touch.
I tilted my head in thought. “There is something powerful in helping a group of kids come into their own, and learn to be their best selves.” I raised my eyebrow. “That and I don’t mind the friendly competition. It helps me stay in shape.”
Her lips were curving into a grin. “Well, it has done wondersfor you.” Her cheeks flushed pink, and the compliment boosted my ego.
I laughed. “Thanks.” I rubbed my hand up and down her side, enjoying the feel of her shirt under my hand. “What about teaching? Do you love it?”
“I love it!” Her smile lit up her face. “There is something so loving about children, the way they accept each other and any differences without a second thought.” She shrugged. “My mother really struggled with some of my own differences.”
I nodded. “Sorry.”
“Thanks.” Her eyes studied my face, my mouth. “Um.” Faith shook her head, trying to come up with another question. “What’s one of your pet peeves?” she asked.
My forehead burrowed. “I guess it’s when people pretend to be something they’re not.”
Faith’s breath caught in a soft gasp. “What do you mean?” She sat up and her eyebrows dipped in concern.
I missed the way her hand felt over my heart. “Too often, people wear masks; they hide their true natures. Hide who they really are and what they really want. I don’t like games.”
Faith’s brow furrowed and she faced away slightly.
“I feel like my life before the divorce was nothing but hidden agendas and intentions. Like I was a player in a game, but I never got the rules and could never win.” I never wanted to pretend to be someone else again, and that so many people did, rubbed me the wrong way.
Faith’s vibe had definitely shifted. Her big reaction didn’t sit well in my stomach. I waited for her to say why. The silence stretched, no longer with the same comfort as before.
