He’s wearing the red flannel and the corduroy jacket from the very first day. He’s beautiful. Not like I’d forgotten, but being reminded causes tears to spring up into my eyes. I have to remind myself that this isn’t forgiveness. This isn’t happily ever after. Not yet.
“Oooh! Me first! Me first!” Grandma yelps, acting like a little kid.
I oblige. “It’s a joint gift, actually.” Inside an electric green envelope, Grandma and Gramps find two tickets to a taping of a popular baking competition series that films in New York City. “Since you loved the challenge Hector and I did, I thought it could be fun for us to go, get dinner, and then you can crash at my new place.”
Grandma’s eyebrows ruffle. “New place?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m renting an apartment downtown now. It has a sizable guest room with its own bathroom. And an elevator! So Gramps won’t need to worry about the stairs.”
They beam at me, and I know they’re proud.
“That’s wonderful, dear. Sounds lovely. Can’t wait.” Grandma pinches my cheek in thanks before charting my gaze over to Hector. “Doug, let’s go into the office for a second. I need help with, uh…well, just. Let’s go.”
Alone now, I take a tentative step in Hector’s direction. “Hi.”
“Hey.” His posture is guarded, and I don’t blame him. I’d be boarding up my heart too if he’d hurt me the way I hurt him.
“Before I give you your gifts, I wrote down everything I’d like to say to you so I don’t forget anything.” I produce a piece of paper from my back pocket, unfolding it with trembling hands. “Would it be all right if I read it to you?”
He nods, hesitant.
I breathe into my body and begin. “Hector, I’m sorry for the hurtful things I said the night I left town. Regardless of what I was told you did, you didn’t deserve to be spoken to that way. My anxiety elevated to an eleven, and I dragged you into the darkness with me. That wasn’t cool.” I glance up a second to make sure he’s with me. He hasn’t moved a muscle. He hasn’t even blinked. “If I had been thinking clearly, I’d have realized right away that a person like you—trustworthy, loyal, strong—wouldn’t have betrayed me like that. I know in my heart who you are, and I wish I had listened to that instead of my sometimes unreliable brain.”
“Matthew—”
“Would you mind if I finished first?” I ask, afraid if I stop I might lose my momentum. He nods again. “I think I needed to go home—well, nothomeexactly, but as close to it as I had before all this—to see everything that had changed and how my definition ofhomeshifted in the short time I was here. You helped me see thathomeis not a place. It’s people. It’s the people you choose to invest in, believe in—the people you let hold your heart.” I meet his eyes, so he knows I mean this bit more than anything. “I have never set my heart in more caring hands than yours.” I’m crying now, swiping away stray tears. “So please accept these gifts as a small act of penance for, well, everything. Much love, the Grinch, a.k.a. Scrooge, a.k.a. Matthew, a.k.a…me.”
To free up my hands, I give him the note so he can see how many times I scratched out lines and rewrote sentences to get this to the level he deserved. Then I hand him a hefty box.
His expressive eyes flash from serious to overjoyed when he sees what’s inside. “Is this a first complete edition ofDon Quixote?”
I nod. “I had some help sourcing it. It wasn’t easy to track down, but I’m told it’sbound in full calf. Whatever that means. And that there’sgiltlettering? Not sure I’m even saying that right.”
“You are,” he muses, awestruck.
“Anyway, there’s also a not-rare-at-all paperback copy below that. I read and annotated that one since you seemed to enjoy that old copy ofA Christmas Carolso much.” I smile. “Apologies in advance for my wonky windmills. They’re not easy to sketch.”
As he opens the book, two rectangular pieces of paper flutter to the floor, landing beside his muddy boots. “Plane tickets?” he asks, picking them up.
“A promise is a promise,” I tell him. “Or a deal is a deal, rather.”
Inspecting them closer, he says, confused, “These are both to Dallas a day apart.”
“I know. That’s because I’d like to make agrand gesture. But I didn’t want to just do it without giving you a choice or an out or whatever first, so…” I lower my voice so he can’t hear how nervous it sounds. “If you take the earlier flight, I will be waiting in the JFK terminal for you to arrive. I have a ticket for that departure as well. Only if you want, I will tag along with you for New Year’s so I can see where you grew up, get to know you better, and make up for those days we lost to my fears. If that doesn’t appeal to you, you can arrive the following day—no notice necessary—and fly home solo to be with your family. I promise I won’t be upset if you choose that option. And I won’t read anything into it either. And…yeah.”
He blinks at me, too stunned to speak.
I laugh uncomfortably to break the tension. “I know it’s a lot, but, you know,grand gestureand all. So, um, I’m going to go now. I still have boxes to move into my new place and loose ends to tie up back in New York. I just wanted to deliver this personally, so you knew how sorry I was. Hector, I really, really am sorry.”
There’s more silence. He holds the two books, the tickets, my note. All of them probably heavier because of the emotions they carry.
I pick up my empty bag and zip my coat back up, escaping before nerves can get the better of me. “Grandma, Gramps!” I call into the back. “I’m heading out!”
“So soon?” Gramps asks, voice close. Almost as if they were eavesdropping by the door. “You just got here!”
“Yeah, can’t you stay for supper at least?” Grandma asks.
I shake my head. “No, no. I need to get back, but thank you.”
