As soon as we step onto the compacted snow, Ruby is squirming to get out of my arms. I set her down, and she’s off running. I let my arm dangle at my side, waiting and hoping that Gwen will reach for my hand again, but she doesn’t, so I do what any man who’s trying to win his wife back would do and take hers.
We stroll through the aisles, kept dry by the overhead covering. Glass lightbulbs are wound around the posts, lighting the pathway, and Christmas music plays through the speakers hung in the corners. From the time Gwen and I bought our first tree, we’ve been coming to this place. I don’t know if it’s the ambience or the fact that the trees are cut locally that keeps us coming back.
“I found it,” Ruby yells from a row or two away from us. Gwen and I make our way there, to find Ruby standing with one of the helpers, who is dressed like an elf. Shockingly, the tree they are standing by is not massively tall or round but seemingly perfect for our living room. The branches are full, and it stands a little above six feet, which means lifting Ruby to put the topper on will be easy.
“What do you think, Gwen?”
Ruby continues to stand next to the tree with one hand on her hip and a big ole smile on her face.
“I think it’s—”
“The best tree ever,” Ruby interrupts. She jumps up and down before she starts doing a little dance.
“We’ll take it,” I tell the elf.
“Santa will love this one. I’ll get it bagged and loaded into your truck.”
As much as I don’t want to let go of Gwen’s hand, I do so I can pick Ruby up. It’s been hard being away from them.
The realization that I’ve let my duties slip has weighed heavily on me since the night I sat outside the church, waiting for the two loves of my life to come out. So leaving work today at five was like breathing for the first time. The tellers all stood there with their mouths open when I told them I wouldn’t be back for the rest of the day. I’m serious about what I said to Gwen … no more late nights.
I don’t know what else do to. Do I take her on a vacation? Give her jewelry? Get on my hands and knees and beg for forgiveness? The latter is easy. All she has to do is say the word.
“Are you coming?”
I look at the woman who makes my heart beat faster. Our arms reach toward each other. She’s just one small step away from me. Gwen smiles and gives my hand a little tug, pulling me forward. I fall in step next to her, our arms brushing against each other’s as we walk toward the counter to pay for the tree.
My wallet’s out before she can dig into her purse. I hand the cashier a wad of twenties and tell her to keep the change. “Rory, you didn’t have to pay for the tree.”
“I’ll let you pick up the treats for tonight.” I say this as a way to compromise. She’s been on her own for a few months, and I don’t want her to think I’m trying to take away any of her freedom. I plan to be her equal partner moving forward.
“Does that mean you’re staying to help decorate?”
My heart soars. This woman I love and have hurt so deeply has found a way to open her heart again and let me in. I don’t care if it’s an inch, I’m taking it for all it’s worth and turning it into something great, something meaningful, and I’m never letting her go again. “Is that an invite?”
“Of course. Ruby wants you there.”
Ruby, but not my wife. It seems like I have an uphill journey to win back the love of my life. “I’d love to be there.” I always have and can’t imagine spending this night away from my girls.
Once the tree is loaded into my truck, I follow Gwen back to our house, hoping she didn’t forget about the treats. Knowing Gwen, she has the ingredients for her grandma’s homemade hot cocoa out and ready to go, along with some fresh gingerbread and a tray of cookies. All things I didn’t think I’d miss until this moment. Our house always smells like cinnamon during the holidays, and I honestly can’t wait to step into our home once again.
As soon as Gwen parks, Ruby’s out of the car and racing toward my truck. She’s trying to climb into the back by the time I reach her. “Slow down, Ruby bean.”
“I can’t. Santa will be here soon, and we have to get this baby up,” she says, clapping her hands.
“Santa comes with or without a tree.”
Ruby stops and sets her hands on her hips. If it weren’t so dark out, I’d be able to see her face. I bet her nose is scrunched up and her eyes are almost closed because she hasn’t mastered the art of squinting yet. “Santa needs a tree to put all my presents under.”
“Oh yeah, how many do you think you’re getting?” I ask, as I open the lift gate of the truck. I grab hold of the netting on the tree and pull it forward.
“A hundred,” Ruby says, excitedly.
“A hundred presents. Wow, that seems like a lot. What about the other children, are they getting a hundred too?”
“I dunno.”
“Do you need that many gifts?”
“Sure.”
Once I have the tree propped against my truck, I pick Ruby up and set her on the tailgate. I stay there, eye level with her. “I think you’ll get one present from Santa, just like last year.”
“Well, some kids in my class get hundreds from him.”
“Well, I don’t know what goes on in your friends’ houses, but at the Suttons’, we appreciate the one gift Santa brings us. Do you know why?”
She shakes her head.
“Because that means children who are less fortunate can receive presents too. If you and your classmates were to receive a hundred presents each, how many would that be?”
“A lot.”
“Do you think you need a lot of presents or would it be nice to share with other kids who may not get as much from their mommy and daddy?”
Ruby thinks about this for a moment. “I think I’d like to share.”
“That’s my girl.” I help her down from the truck, pick up the tree, and toss it over my shoulder, hoping that I’m not breaking any of the branches. Ruby leads the way, chatting about how she’s going to tell Santa that she only needs one present.
As soon as I step into the entryway, I feel instantly at home. It seems silly to say, but being gone for the past month and a half has really made me forget how wonderful it is to be here. I inhale deeply, trying to burn the sweet scent of this place into my memory so, when I’m back at my apartment and staring at the ceiling tonight, I can remember this moment and the other happy ones that are sure to come this evening.
“Rory?”
“Huh, what?”
Gwen is standing in the archway that separates the living room from the rest of the house. “I asked if you planned to come in with the tree or if you were going to stand there all night holding it.”
“Oh, sorry.” I don’t tell her I was caught up in the moment. I don’t want to add any pressure or make her feel guilty. The last thing I want is for her to shut down and go back into her shell. I finally made a breakthrough with her the other day and want to keep the progress going.
Gwen already has the tree stand set up, making it easy for me to plop the tree into the stand. “Can you hold it steady for me?” She does as I ask, while I drop down and tighten the screws on the base. “Is it straight?”
“Yes, it’s perfect.”
“Not yet, Mommy. It needs decorations!” Ruby yells from somewhere behind me.
I stand and brush some pine needles off my pants before making my way toward Gwen. “Yeah, Mommy. No tree is complete without lights, bulbs, daycare and school ornaments, and the Santa topper.”
I place my hands on her hips and her sharp intake of breath tells me that she likes what I’m doing. She steps closer, so close that I’d only have to lean forward slightly in order to kiss her, but I hold my ground. Part of me is scared. I’m not foolish enough to think, because I’m here, she’s ready to forget just yet.
“Everything’s in the totes. I brought them up from the basement already.” Her voice is quiet, her tell when she’s nervous. I’m going
to tone down the affection and maybe wait for her to approach me.
“I’ll string the lights and you …”
“… I’ll get the treats,” she says, finishing my sentence.
I watch her walk away before I turn back toward the living room and tree. Ruby is standing here with a wide grin on her face. I just shake my head, dig into the tote, and pull out the string of white lights that I wrapped up tightly last year.
Gwen returns with a tray of hot chocolate, cookies, and of course, the gingerbread that I’ve been craving. Once I have the lights strung, I stand back and watch the ladies get to work. They dance around each other, putting ornaments all over the tree. It doesn’t matter if our daughter clusters everything in one spot. Once she’s in bed, Gwen will make a few adjustments to even everything out.
“Ladies, this looks wonderful,” I tell them in between bites.
“Don’t eat all the cookies, Daddy.”
“Sorry, I can’t help it. I love Mommy’s cooking.”
Gwen tries to hide it, but I see her blushing. This is yet another mark against me in the husband department. I’ve forgotten how to compliment my wife. Telling her she’s beautiful, that the meal she’s cooked tastes good, or thanking her for ironing my clothes, should be automatic. I took her for granted, and that has to change, especially if I’m going to prove that I’m worthy of her love.
When the last ornament is placed on the tree, Ruby brings the Santa topper over to me. I lift her high into the air and get as close to the tree as I can. She slips him over the topmost branch with Gwen there to plug him in.
“We’ll get the lights,” I tell Gwen before carrying Ruby over to the wall. She presses the switch, shutting off the overhead light and the lamps that sit on the end tables. The room darkens, but there’s a little glow from the outside where the moon hits the snow.
“Now, Mommy.” On Ruby’s command, Gwen flips on the tree lights, magically lighting up our living room. Ruby starts clapping and wiggles so I’ll let her down. She dances around, singing about Santa coming to town. Gwen and I let her go on for a few minutes before we call for bedtime. The loud grumbles mix with the saddest face ever.
“Come on, Ruby. I’ll take you to bed,” I say.
“I’m not tired.”
“Give Mommy a kiss good night,” I tell her, not playing her game.
“Good night, Ruby. I love you.”
“I love you too.” Ruby pouts her way to her room, mumbling something about how life isn’t fair. If she thinks this now, she’s in for a rude awakening when she becomes an adult. After she’s changed and has been to the bathroom, I’m tucking her in. She pulls a book off her bedside table and hands it to me. “Mommy’s reading this to me.”
I flip to where Gwen left off and start reading the Nativity story about baby Jesus. When I say the name Gabriel, it gives me pause, and makes me think about the transient man that I’ve run into a few times. I haven’t seen him the last couple of days, and thinking about him now makes me wonder where he’s been.
It’s not long until Ruby’s grown quiet. I close her book and place it back on her nightstand before slipping out of her room. I stand in the doorway, unable to move. If things don’t work out with her mother, nights like these will be few. I suppose it’s something I should be used to since I was hardly home in time to tuck her in. This is where I want to be every night.
Downstairs, Gwen is finishing up in the kitchen. She’s wiping down the counter with her hair pulled into a bun, the sleeves of her shirt rolled to her elbows, and her feet bare. She hums along with the song on the radio while I stand there watching her.
She turns, jumps, and places her hand over her heart. “You scared me, Rory.”
“Sorry.” Pushing myself away from the doorjamb, I walk to the island and pull out one of the bar stools. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s fine. Did she go down okay?”
“Yeah, I read to her. When did you buy her that book?”
“I didn’t. Her friend Gabe gave it to her.”
“Gabe?”
Gwen nods. “He’s a homeless man that she’s befriended. At first, I was wary, but I’ve spoken to the school and there’s always a teacher there when he goes in and reads to the kids. For some reason, she’s taken to him.”
“So have I,” I tell her. “I can’t explain it, but every time I see him, I want to help him, but he’s the one helping me.”
“Same here. He’s helping me too.”
I stand and go to Gwen. As much as I want to stay, I can’t. She’s not ready, and I’m not going to push her. “I had an amazing evening, Gwen. Thank you.” I pull her into my arms and kiss the top of her head. I try to step away, but she won’t let go.
“Not yet,” she mumbles into my shirt. “I just need one more minute.”
So do I, but I don’t tell her. I give her what she asks for before leaving her in the kitchen. I’m determined to make her fall in love with me again.
Chapter Eight
Gwen
Since Rory showed up at Ruby’s concert, we’ve seen him every night and sometimes during the day. Just yesterday, he surprised us during lunch. Ruby and I were watching a movie, snuggled on the couch, when the doorbell rang. Rory was standing there with carryout bags in his hand from our favorite burger place two towns over.
It didn’t take a genius to do the math. He left work early to do this for us, unless, of course, he had someone go pick it up for him. Either way, it was the thought that counted, and Ruby was happy to spend a little bit of the afternoon with her father.
You can’t pretend happiness. I was delighted he was there. The coy touches he used in church graduated to not so subtle when he pulled me into his arms and kissed my neck. His soft, gentle lips pressed against my skin reminded me of when we were younger and life was simpler. After he left, I cried for an hour, unsure of what I should do. The logical answer is to give him another chance, but there’s something inside of me that fears he’ll revert to his old self, and that’s not something I can handle.
I stare at myself in my bedroom mirror. My hair is in a French twist, and a red pendant my grandmother gave me years ago accents my black dress. Tonight is the Christmas party for Rory’s company. I hadn’t planned to go, but I don’t have a valid excuse why I shouldn’t. He’s trying to be a better husband and father, and if I hold him back, I have no one to blame but myself. Still, I’m nervous. I don’t know what to say when people ask if we’re back together. Mostly because I’m not sure. Yes, I love him and want to be his wife, but he’s only reformed his workaholic tendencies a week ago. Does that make him a changed man?
“Mommy, you look beautiful.” Ruby’s voice startles me. I jump, and my hand swats my perfume bottle. Luckily, I’m able to catch it before it crashes to the ground. After setting it back on my dresser, I hold it tightly while taking a deep breath to calm down. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. It’s not like Rory and I haven’t been on a date before.
“Because this one is different,” I mutter to myself. Tonight is a turning point for us.
“Mommy, are you are okay?”
I nod and finally look at my little girl, who’s dressed in elf pajamas, complete with a hat. She makes me laugh on a daily basis, even when she’s frustrated with the situation Rory and I have put her in. I don’t pretend to understand what she’s going through, because my parents and grandparents are still married. “I’m fine, sweetie. You just caught me by surprise.”
“You look pretty.”
“Thank you. Are you ready for your fun night with your cousins?”
“Yes, but are you coming home?”
I go to her and crouch down, which isn’t easy in a dress. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I come home?”
She shrugs. “Because when Daddy tucks me in at night, he’s not here for breakfast.” Her voice cracks at the end. I hadn’t thought about how she’d feel when he’s here as opposed to when he’s not. Rory’s made it a point to tuck her in
every night, but I hadn’t thought about what she’d think or expect in the morning. I was just happy he was here for her. I need to make a decision and stick to it, because the back and forth isn’t good on Ruby. It’s not good on me, and I imagine Rory feels the same way.
I scoop her up, bring her over to my bed, and sit her on my lap. “Do you remember when we talked about Mommy and Daddy needing some time apart?” Ruby nods. “Well, what I didn’t tell you is that Mommy and Daddy have been trying to spend some time together, to work on the things keeping us apart.”
“Frankie says her mommy hates her daddy. Do you hate Daddy?”
Why would any parent say that about their spouse or ex? I shake my head and fight back a wave of tears. “I love your daddy very much, and he loves me.”
“I think he loves me more,” she says without missing a beat.
“You’re probably right. You’re his favorite.”
“That’s because I don’t make him pick up his socks or wash his coffee cup and you do.”
Oh, how I want to tell her that these little things go a long, long way in a relationship. That romance isn’t just giving your wife a kiss good-bye in the morning or thanking her for keeping your house tidy and making your dinner; it’s taking an extra step to help out, to be there unexpectedly. It’s putting your wife and family first; it’s pulling your wife into an embrace because she’s standing there and you can’t resist her. All things Rory was good at in the beginning. All things I was good at too. He’s not the only one to blame for these problems we’re going through.
“Well, have you smelled his socks?” I ask her. “P.U.” I wave my hand back and forth in front of my nose, which makes her laugh. “No one should have to touch those stinky things.”
“Daddy doesn’t smell.”
“How do you know? Have you been sniffing his toes?”
She laughs. “No, but when I hug him, he smells good.” Yes, yes he does. Since the time we started dating, Rory has always worn some musky scent of cologne. It didn’t matter what the scent was, I was putty in his hands.
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