It was a fake one, but still pretty with all the lights and ornaments hung around it. When Grady was healthy, he would make a big night out of going to pick out a real tree- the perfect tree. Then I would spend the next month vacuuming up needles. Of course, he didn’t care. He loved the fresh pine smell and the wide-eyed wonder the kids had the night we shopped for it. And to be honest, I loved it for those reasons too.
Last Christmas, when he was too sick to leave the hospital, Emma and my parents had surprised me by decorating my entire house while I was at the hospital. They had enlisted my kids’ help and had outdone themselves by making every room festive. They’d bought the fake tree because we’d all been too busy going back and forth to the hospital to deal with a real one.
I was thankful for it this year, when the same thing was true, but for different reasons.
My phone buzzed on the cushion next to me. I picked it up to find another text from Ben.I’m celebrating with my parents tonight, so my morning has been pretty lazy so far.
I grinned when I texted back,Pop-Tarts?
You got it. But they were the sugar cookie kind, so that’s festive, right?
You should have come over for brunch with us.My stomach dipped after I pressed send. Why had I told him that? How inappropriate! My fingers started shaking. I had to stop sending him the wrong messages. At least it was over now though, so I didn’t have to worry about following through with the offer.
Thankfully, he didn’t acknowledge the invitation. Instead, he wrote something even more perplexing.Are you busy now? Or do you think you could spare a few minutes?
I debated how to answer, but curiosity got the best of me.The kids are pretty quiet right now.Lots of new toys to play with.What do you need?
You.
His one word answer caused my heart to spiral into overdrive. I felt my face heat with a flush and a shiver tingled down my spine.
But then the rest of his text came in and I forced myself to calm down.
You to come over.I have something for you.
What is it?
I’m not sure you understand how Christmas works.
I smiled at his teasing words.You want me to come over to your house?
Yes…
“Who are you texting?” Emma plopped onto the seat next to me and pulled her knees to her chest.
I looked up, immediately feeling guilty. “Ben.”
I expected her to jump up and do some kind of victory dance, but she kept her neutral expression. “Is he having a good Christmas?”
“I don’t think his has really started yet. He’s seeing his parents tonight.”
“Gotchya.”She reached for a pillow and hugged it against her chest.
“He wants me to go over there,” I confessed in a rush of words. “He says he has something for me. Did he get you something?”
“Yes, he did.”
“What was it?”
“A scarf that I picked out and sent him the links for.”She smiled shamelessly.
God, I loved my sister.
“Well, I didn’t pick out anything for him to buy me. I can’t imagine what it is.”
“Go find out.”
I chewed undecidedly on my bottom lip. “I didn’t get him anything.” My gaze bounced around the room as I tried to figure out something I could wrap quickly and re-gift.
