Here, after midnight on Christmas Eve, standing across the table from the man she’d promised to love through hell and high water. (A promise she’d kept so far, appearances notwithstanding.)
Tom held up a perfectly iced Mochi cookie.
“You remembered his bell,” Cherry said.
“Once I remembered him, I remembered him completely.”
They finished the last of the cookies together. The caffeine had worn off. Cherry was exhausted, and her lower back really was unbearable. She kept twisting her shoulders, looking for relief.
“Why don’t you sit down?” Tom said. “I’ll put these away.”
“Aren’t you tired, too?”
“I’m all right.”
Cherry walked into the living room and sank down into the couch. “Oh god,” she said. “I’m probably never getting up.” Her legsachedfrom standing.
She watched Tom take the cookies into the kitchen. She watched him clean off the dining room table.
He came back through the kitchen and sat down on the couch. Right next to Cherry. He groaned.
“You are tired,” she said.
“I’m good-tired,” Tom said.
The Christmas music was still playing. “This Christmas” by Donny Hathaway.
“Thank you,” Cherry said. “I’m not sure I would have finished anything without you.”
“I’m sure you would have finished everything. You just wouldn’t have been able to walk tomorrow.”
“Well. Thank you for your help.”
“Thank you for letting me help,” he said quietly. “For giving me a little Christmas.”
Cherry turned to him—you could say“suddenly,”but she’d been on the verge of this all night—and said, “Come with me tomorrow.”
Tom made a face. Like she was being absurd. “What? To your sister’s?”
“Yes. Come.”
“Cherry.” He shook his head, still like she was being absurd. “I can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can. Everyone will be so happy to see you.”
“No.” He shook his head again. “No... You don’t want your sisters to think—”
“I don’t care what they think. And I’m telling you, everyone will love to see you. Tom, just because you and I... broke down, doesn’t mean you’re not part of the family.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I think it does mean that,” he said. “I can’t just keep coming every year.”
Cherry was insistent: “Maybe not every year, but you could come tomorrow. Youshouldcome tomorrow. You already put in all the work.”
“I wasn’t angling for an invite.”
“I know that.”
“Cherry...” Tom’s forehead was lined. The corners of his eyes were pinched. “It’s hard for me to believe that you’d want me there, considering... everything.”
