“I don’t know, Rory.”
“I know. All I’m asking for is a chance, and if I can’t prove to you that I’m worthy of your love, as your husband, we’ll do things your way.”
“It’s not just about love. I want an equal partner. I want my husband, the father of my daughter, to make his family a priority.”
“I will.”
Gwen breaks eye contact and stares off. I wish I could see inside her mind to know what she’s thinking. She turns back, and her eyes narrow. “You said you were here while we were decorating cookies.”
I nod. “Outside, but yes.”
“What about Jerry?”
Instead of loosening my grip on her, I tighten my arms and look deep into her eyes. “I didn’t go to his party. The next morning, he called, and I told him that things have to change and that once five o’clock hits, I’m done for the day. I let him know that I can no longer take his calls in the middle of the night or on weekends, and from this point forward, I’ll treat him like he’s one of my normal clients.”
“And?” She lifts her eyebrow.
“And … he wasn’t happy.” I shrug. “I don’t know how things are going to be after the New Year, and frankly, I don’t care. You were right, like always,” I tease. “He takes up a lot of unnecessary time, which takes away from my duties at home as your husband and Ruby’s father. Something had to give, and for me, it couldn’t be you.”
“Maybe you’d like to come with Ruby and me when we pick out our Christmas tree tomorrow?”
“I would love to.” I think about kissing her on the nose but refrain. Right now, I’d really like a sprig of mistletoe to appear, because I could use all the help I could get. I look up, hoping, but nothing happens. Maybe next time.
Chapter Six
Gwen
I shoulder my bag and hold on to the strap tightly as I rush across the street toward the clothing store. The ground is slick with a combination of slush, freshly falling snow, and salt to try to melt the ice.
My first stop, though, is the coffee shop. I’ve had a craving for their peppermint mocha since I woke this morning, and thankfully there isn’t a line. With the warm cup nestled between my hands, I bring it to my face and inhale the wintery scent, but before I can take a sip, my eyes land on the homeless man my daughter has befriended. Gabe’s standing under the awning of a store a few doors down with a cup in his hand. I can’t tell from here if he’s asking anyone for change or if he’s just holding it out, hoping someone will be kind enough to drop a few coins in there for him.
“I’d like another cup,” I say to the barista. “And a small assortment of your pastries.”
“Sure thing,” the young girl says. Within minutes, I’m juggling two cups and a bag of freshly made goodies, which are causing my stomach to growl.
“Hello.” I stop in front of the man. He smiles and continues to shake his cup as people walk by, and much to my surprise, he’s wishing them a Merry Christmas even though they’re ignoring him. “How are you, Gabe?”
“I’m well, ma’am.”
I smile at his politeness and hold out the extra coffee and bag of sweet treats. “These are for you.” He looks at me and then to the bag. I can sense some hesitation, and it saddens me. Surely, he’s hungry and would want the food. He wasn’t like this the other night, and it makes me wonder if someone in town has said something to him.
“Thank you. You didn’t have to do this.” He opens the bag immediately and if I’m not mistaken, inhales deeply.
“I know, but my daughter thinks of you as her friend, and I’d like to … Well I don’t know what I’d like right now.”
“Happiness,” he says, but I’m not sure if he’s talking about what I want or the fact that he’s bitten into what I would call one of the best apple cider doughnuts in New England.
“I’m glad you like it.” I point to the half-eaten pastry in his hand. Never mind the crumbs sticking to his face.
“You have hope,” he says. “I can see it in your eyes.”
My head cocks to the side as I study him. “For what?” I ask.
Gabe looks at a few passersby, making he wonder if he’s ignoring me. Maybe he’d rather stand here and be by himself, or maybe he’s not right in his mind or suffers from posttraumatic stress and I’m only hearing what I want, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.
“Love has a funny way of making people unhappy. Yet you seem to have a spark. I can see it,” he says calmly.
I want to call him crazy and tell him he has no idea what he’s talking about, but he’s right. This morning when I woke, I felt better, as if I had more pep in my step. Ruby noticed, too, and chatted happily with me about her last day of school before break and how she plans to sleep in on Christmas morning, which I knew was a total lie. She’ll be up before the sun, jumping on my bed and begging me to get up because Santa has been to our house.
“You must follow the path laid out in front of you, not the one you think you must forge. Happiness is there, waiting for you, and as long as you have hope, you’ll find it. Thank you for the coffee and doughnuts, Mrs. Sutton. It’s much appreciated. I’m humbled by your kindness. It’s easy to see where Ruby gets hers.” He nods and bends to gather his things and walks away, leaving me speechless. On more than one occasion, this man has said exactly what I needed to hear.
I don’t know how long I stand there. It’s well after he’s disappeared behind a building. I’m tempted to follow, to ask him again for more words of wisdom, but I’m frozen, still stunned by how eloquently he speaks. I want to know who he was before his demons took over and he ended up on the street, homeless and begging.
“What are you doing?” My sister’s voice catches me off guard.
“Um …” I look around, wondering exactly where I am. A window display catches my attention. It’s a replica of Miracle on 34th Street with Kris Kringle holding hands with a Susan. I don’t remember walking to the department store, yet here I am.
“Are you okay? Did you fall and hit your head?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“You look confused.”
“No, I’m fine, just …”
“Just what, Gwen?”
I shake my head and smile. “Nothing. I’m good. Are we ready to shop?” I play off my confusion. I could’ve swore Gabe was standing near the other side of the street, closer to the park, not on the other side of town.
My sister sighs. “Yes. My list is a mile long. Do you know what you’re getting Mom and Dad?”
I reach for the door. “Not a clue. They’re impossible to buy for.” Inside, Santa’s sitting off to the side, bellowing out “ho ho ho” as we walk in. “Do you remember coming here as kids to see him?” I ask, pointing at the man dressed in red.
“I do, and I remember you pulling on the poor man’s beard once because some kid told you it wasn’t real.”
I blanche at the memory. “Santa told me I was going to get coal in my stocking for that stunt. I was so scared on Christmas morning.”
Eliza laughs hard at the memory. I was mortified. So were my parents. “Come on, let’s shop,” I say, dragging her down the aisle.
“Is Amber joining us?” she asks.
“No, she couldn’t get the time off. Something about an end-of-the-year audit creeping up.”
Eliza and I start out together but end up going our separate ways after a bit. I’m not having much luck finding anything, which is a bit bothersome. Christmas is a few days away, and I still have so much to buy.
I happen upon the men’s section and hesitate before crossing the imaginary threshold. I don’t need anything here since Rory’s presents are tucked deeply in my closet. I haven’t wrapped them, mostly because I don’t know if they should come from me or Ruby. Yet I find myself thumbing through the flannel shirts that are on sale and adding a few to my pile.
“Who are these for?” Eliza picks one of the shirts up and rubs the fabric between her fingers.
“Gabe.” His nam
e pulls me up short.
“You met someone.” It’s not a question, but more of an accusation.
It takes me a minute to recover from my blunder. “No, I didn’t, and I don’t know why I said his name.” I look down at the pile in my arm and realize that the last few items I’ve picked up are indeed for this man, who I barely know yet seem to want to help. I’ve volunteered before at the homeless shelter, but never have I gone out of my way to buy clothing for someone who’s homeless.
“Who is he?”
“Do you remember the man Ruby was talking to at the ice rink?”
Eliza nods. “You’re buying clothes for that bum?”
The word bum doesn’t sit well with me. I grimace at her. “I see him differently. So does Ruby.”
“Have you fallen and hit your head? Do I need to take you to the ER?”
“It’s hard to explain, but I’ve spoken to him a few times and … I don’t know, there’s something about him.” I pause and shake my head. “I don’t expect you to understand, and maybe it’s because I’m going through this thing with Rory and I’m utterly confused, but Gabe has a way of knowing what to say when I’m in doubt.”
“Now I’m confused. Are you telling me that you’ve confided in this man?”
“No, I’m not saying that at all. Like I said, it’s hard to explain.”
“Well, you can explain it later over lunch.”
I shouldn’t be surprised when I spot Amber at the restaurant, sitting alone with two additional menus. As soon as my sister left me in the men’s section, she was on her phone, and my best guess is that she called Amber and likely told her I’m having a mid-life crisis because I’m shopping for Gabe.
Eliza slides in next to Amber, leaving me no choice but to sit across from the both of them. I smile, place my stuff down next to me, pick up the menu and hide behind it, pretending everything’s great. Okay, great might be stretching it, but I’m better since I last saw them at the ice rink.
The waitress stops, takes our orders and menus, leaving me vulnerable to Amber’s penetrating gaze. “So, how are things at work?” I ask her.
“Oh, no you don’t. We’re here to talk about your mystery man.”
After I roll my eyes, I stare sharply at my sister, who is conveniently looking out of the restaurant window. I’m tempted to look out as well, to see if I can spot Gabe so I can give him the things I’ve purchased. “First off, he’s not a mystery. You saw him at the rink the other day. Second, he’s not my man.” I mimic her voice when I say “my man.”
“Seriously, what’s going on?” Amber asks as she reaches across the table to grab my hand. “You’re starting to freak me out. Be straight with us, did you meet someone?”
“I think she got l-a-i—”
“Okay, now you’re just being foolish, Eliza.”
She shrugs.
“How else do you explain your giddiness?” Amber asks.
“What’s wrong with being a little happy?” I ask them.
Amber and Eliza look at each other, and then both lean forward. “Look, I know you’re technically married to my brother, but I would hope you’d still tell me …” She looks from me to Eliza and back, “you know, if you found someone else.”
“Oh my, just stop. Both of you …” I shake my head. I imagine my happier-than-normal demeanor is likely throwing them off, but it’s disheartening to think that neither of them expected or hoped that Rory and I would get back together. “Rory finally admitted that he put his job before our family and is promising to make a change.”
“Do you believe him?” my sister asks. It was just days ago when I cried on their shoulders after I served divorce papers.
They both look at me, each with an eyebrow raised. Clearing my throat, I say, “I can sense that the wheels are turning in your thoughts. They’re doing the same in mine. I keep questioning myself about what I should do.”
“Which is?” Eliza asks.
“That’s the thing, I don’t know. This is unchartered territory for me.”
Now it’s my sister’s turn to reach across the table and clasp my hand. “Why don’t you start at the beginning so Amber and I can help you make the best decision?”
I nod and smile. “Rory showed up to church yesterday. He sat with Ruby and me, as if nothing had changed between us. But it’s not just church. He also came to Ruby’s winter concert. He was attentive to both of us, acting like a doting father and being a husband who affectionately touches his wife. I wanted to scream and dance for joy over the attention, because this is exactly what I’ve wanted for so long.”
“And then what happened?” Eliza shifts her position.
“Did he spend the night?” Amber leans forward.
“No. He kept Ruby at his apartment and took her to school the next morning.” I pause as the waitress stops by with our lunches. “Anyway, I’m sitting in church, and the next thing I know, Rory sits down next to me, and he held my hand through the service.”
“How’d that feel?” My sister wants to know.
“Good. My palms sweated like they used to when we started dating. After the service, we spoke … well, he did. I stood there, staring at the wall because I couldn’t face him. He knows his job’s an issue and says he’s going to change, that it’ll be family first.”
Amber looks at me questioningly. “So what’s the problem?”
I smile weakly. “I don’t know if I believe him.” I turn my attention toward my turkey club, taking a few bites before wiping my mouth and meeting their gazes again.
My sister speaks first. “Before I start babbling, know that I love you and support whatever you do. So playing devil’s advocate, Rory moves home, things are good, like he’s coming home by five and all that jazz,” she says in between bites, “does that fix things between the two of you?”
“Maybe?” I shrug. “It’s been awhile since we actually acted like husband and wife behind closed doors.”
“Do you want that with him?” This time it’s Amber asking.
I swallow the giant knot forming in my throat. “I miss him. He’s all I’ve ever really known, and these past months have been torture. I don’t sleep and hardly eat. Last night was the first night I went to sleep without crying. And I woke up happy. I’m ridiculously happy that he’s joining Ruby and me tonight.”
“What’s tonight?” Amber wants to know.
“We’re getting our Christmas tree.”
“And you’re going to reconnect in the bedroom.” Eliza waggles her eyebrows only to have Amber elbow her in her side. Sometimes I think Eliza has a one-track mind when it comes to some things.
Thankfully, she decides her lunch is more important and focuses her attention there. We continue to talk, but mostly about the kids starting vacation soon and how it’s never enough time and who is hosting what for the holidays. I’m off the hook for being a hostess this year, though, which I’m relieved about. If things were to work out for Rory and me, it’d probably be best if we’re given some time away from family. The last thing either of us needs is our parents’ meddling.
I’m trying not to get ahead of myself when it comes to Rory. I want to believe him and trust he’s making the changes needed, but something deep inside gives me pause when it shouldn’t. I don’t like being alone, so it’s not that I’ve enjoyed my so-called freedom, so what is it? It’s Jerry and the hold he has on my husband. I fear our marriage won’t be strong enough to resist that man and his financial needs.
Rory deserves a second chance. That’s the conclusion I come to as I’m strolling through the park after lunch. Much to my surprise, I run into Gabe again, but this time he’s sitting on the bench reading a book. “Hello.”
“Oh, Mrs. Sutton. It’s such a pleasure seeing you again.” He folds the corner of the page down and sets his novel next to him before I can catch the title.
“I have something for you.” I hand him the bag of clothes. “I don’t know if they’ll fit, so you’ll have to let me know the next time I s
ee you if I need to make any exchanges.”
He rifles through the bag, pulls one of the shirts out, and rubs it against his cheek. “Soft.”
“And hopefully warm.”
“Thank you.”
“Have a good night, Gabe.”
“You too, Mrs. Sutton.”
Chapter Seven
Rory
Like clockwork, I’m on time and standing at the entrance to the tree farm. Ruby screams my name, and I look over the heads of the other people until I spot Gwen weaving through the people. When I do, my heart beats a bit faster. I’ve missed her.
I hurry through the crowd until I’m face-to-face with her. I desperately want to kiss her, but the fear of rejection is too much to handle. Baby steps. That’s what I have to take with Gwen.
I crouch down and pick Ruby up. With her in my arms, I pull Gwen to my side and kiss her stocking cap–covered forehead. While my lips may not touch her skin, the intent is there. She must know this. I’m surprised when she takes my hand in hers, but work hard to keep my emotions in check.
“Shall we go get our tree?” I ask the two of them. If Gwen’s shocked that I said our, she doesn’t show it. I have hope that I’ll be there on Christmas morning, whether it means waking up in the house or just arriving before Ruby rolls out of bed. Either way, I’m going to do what I can in the next few days to show my wife how serious I am.
“I want the hugest tree there is.”
“We don’t have space for the hugest tree,” Gwen tells Ruby.
“Well, can we get a really big tree? One that’s taller than Daddy?”
“We’ll see what we find,” I tell her. It’s been our tradition to pick up our tree about one week before Christmas. Both of us grew up having artificial trees in our homes, and when we had our first place, we said we wanted something real. Our first Christmas together, we got our tree the day after Thanksgiving, and it dried out two weeks after. You couldn’t walk by it without needles falling off, leaving us no choice but to take it down. The next one faired a bit better, until we finally decided that a week before Christmas was the perfect time. Of course, that left us with fewer options, but we didn’t mind the Charlie Brown versions at all.
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