My Life as a Holiday Album (My Life as an Album #5)

by L. J. Evans

  “Please. Please don’t go. Please don’t leave,” I cried out.

  He stopped, looking at me with tears flowing down his cheeks.

  “Any life we build together is going to be hard enough, ‘Z, but if you aren’t all in to begin with, it’ll never work.”

  My body was shivering. And yes, it was cold, and my socks were wet and turning to ice, but the shiver wasn’t because of that. It was because of Brett, and what he’d said, and how he thought I didn’t love him enough. As if I was choosing my family over him, just like everyone in my life had done to me.

  I raced down the drive toward him, slipping on the ice, and I would have fallen if he hadn’t caught me, tugging my body up against his just in time.

  “Jesus Christ,” he cried, his heart beating against me, pounding so loud I thought it would burst from his jacket.

  I wrapped my arms around him. “You said you’d never regret marrying me.” My words caused him to flinch. “So, please give me a chance to explain.”

  My tears continued unchecked, and my body shivered again, causing my teeth to chatter loudly.

  “You’re frozen,” he growled, unzipping his jacket and pulling me into it so I was tucked up against his body with my feet on his boots instead of the icy ground. I took it as an olive branch. A pause in the campaign. At least he wasn’t still marching away.

  I took a deep breath and said, “It’s not because I don’t want to be married to you. It’s not because I’m ashamed of you. It’s because I’m a coward. I’m afraid. I’m terrified you’ll choose them over me.”

  Brett

  THAT’S WHAT I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS

  “When I walk through a room, let them see you need me

  Walk through a room, let them

  See you love me, love me, love me.”

  Performed by Nancy Wilson

  Written by Lawrence © Edwin H. Morris & Co. Inc.

  I hardly registered her words because I was cursing myself for her icy body. For the chattering of her teeth and the feet so cold I could feel them through my military-issued boots. But slowly, her words reached the recesses of my brain. Even after taking them in, I still didn’t understand them.

  “’Z, what the hell are you talking about?”

  “Please, come back to the house. I’ll tell you, and then…” She took a deep breath as if she were trying to get the courage to continue. “And then, if you decide you still need to leave, I’ll let you.”

  I stared into her tear-stained face glowing in the moonlight, and I couldn’t resist her any longer. Her frantic pleas had about done me in from the moment I’d left the room. I couldn't imagine my world going back to one where she wasn’t a part of it, so I picked her up, folded her into my arms so she wasn’t touching the ice-covered earth, and walked back toward the house.

  The lights were on in the kitchen. Someone was still awake, but we didn’t see anyone as we made our way down the hall to her room. I set her down on the bed, wrapped the quilt around her, and then proceeded to strip off her wet socks, rubbing her ice-cold feet.

  She could’ve gotten hypothermia. She could have lost one of her perfectly shaped toes. I was a selfish asshole. I’d let pride and hurt come between us. I looked up from the floor and her pale skin to her eyes still flowing with tears.

  “Talk to me,” I said.

  She covered her face with her hands then straightened her shoulders and looked back up as if she were steeling herself to go into battle.

  “My very first best friend, Mina, begged and begged to have a sleepover at my house. I was excited that someone wanted to hang out with me, so I asked, and Mama did her mama thing, baking and planning so we could have the grandest sleepover you could ever imagine. But once Mina got here, all she wanted to do was hang out with Ty. What was Ty doing? Was he playing video games? Could we play along? I thought it was just a video game obsession. But every time she came over, it was the same. Ty this, Ty that. And if Daddy was here with the band, forget anything but sitting in the studio, drooling as they made music.”

  “She wasn’t a very good friend,” I said sourly, my heart pricking at the pain she must have felt when she realized her friend was only interested in her famous family.

  She laughed bitterly.

  “Don’t you get it? They were all that way. Every friend. Every boyfriend. Every person I let in. As soon as I let down the wall between them and my family, they always chose fame and fortune and my superstar relatives. Hell, even my rodeo-king cousin, Dalton, got more action out of my last boyfriend than I did.”

  Pain welled up through me. Pain for her but also for me because I realized, with a sudden clarity, something I hadn’t wanted to admit before, even when it had been obvious.

  “You’ve purposefully kept me away from your family…all those times…when your parents were in Knoxville…” I trailed off.

  Tears continued to rain down her pale cheeks.

  “Yes,” she croaked out.

  I stepped away, fighting waves of emotions. It hurt that she hadn’t trusted me― us―enough to believe that I was in this for her. To somehow just know that I didn’t give a rat’s ass about her football-star brother or her rock star dad. I only cared about my beautiful Eliza. The woman who made me smile while taking a gazillion, painstaking photographs of the same scene before turning those same photos into art with an almost careless touch of her hand. The woman who argued with my mom and showed up at Black Lives Matter rallies at my side. The one who’d let my aunt teach her to crochet when staying still was one of the very last things she was good at. The woman who loved me enough to give up everything to follow me while I pursued my dream.

  I was hurt and angry. But I also realized that I’d let my own built-in doubts and fears take over today. The fear that I wouldn’t be accepted. The fear that she’d be embarrassed by me. I’d assumed it was about me instead of understanding it was about her. It wasn’t healthy, either of our reactions, and the hard truth hit me. Love wouldn’t be enough if we wanted to make this work. The love had to be backed with trust and honesty.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said quietly. “I…it’s unforgivable.”

  I took a breath and took two steps forward, closer to her.

  “Do you love me?” I asked.

  “You know I do, more than anything in my life.”

  “But you don’t trust me,” I said sadly.

  “No. I do.”

  I shook my head. “You’ve made it pretty clear you don’t.”

  She tossed aside the quilt and stood up, reaching for my hands and rubbing her thumbs along the palms. “You’re right. I didn’t trust that what we have is more than what I’d ever had with anyone else. But tonight… Tonight you proved to me it is, because even when I was awful to you, you did the one thing no one else has ever done.”

  I stared at her, a frown creasing my face.

  “You came back for me,” she said quietly.

  Goddamn. My heart ripped itself into strands of confetti. It was laying all over her room, waiting for her to pick it back up. Waiting for me to pick it back up and give it to her. My arms wrapped around her of their own accord, and she sobbed, her whole body convulsing.

  “I just… I didn’t know how I’d survive if you left me for them,” she said.

  “I need you to look at me,” I said, and she turned her face so I could see her eyes and she could see mine. “I’m yours. There’s no one else I want. I’m not here for them. I’ll never be here for them. I’ll always be here for you.”

  I kissed her, tasting both of our tears. The salt. The hurt. I kissed her until it felt like every single fiber of me had tied a knot to every fiber in her, but then I pulled back, putting space between us again because it was hard to think when we touched. And I had to speak what I felt before I could let myself stay.

  “But, ‘Z, if this is going to work, we have to be really honest with each other. We can’t hold back. We can’t let our pasts dicta
te our future.”

  “You’re right,” she said, nodding.

  “Just like that?”

  “Yes. Keeping this from you…keeping my family from you…it was the hardest, stupidest thing I’ve done. I want them to know you. I want them to see how goddamn beautiful you are,” she said with a growl that made me want to smile.

  “Beautiful…can we agree to use a more manly word than beautiful?” I said, as the heaviness inside me started to ease.

  She grew quiet. “But you are, you know.”

  I rolled my eyes and was about to protest when she placed her fingers on my mouth, her lips curling into a smile through the tears, and asked, “Does this count as our first fight as a married couple?”

  “Maybe,” I grunted out, giving in to the force that was Eliza, giving in because I couldn’t do anything else. We’d have to face the scars inside us as they presented themselves.

  “So, I’ve heard that makeup sex can be really, really good.”

  I laughed fully, putting a hand on her neck, pulling her mouth to mine and kissing her with every bit of the strong emotions I’d been feeling all day, and she matched it. Her tongue darted against my lips, where I let her in, blending our tongues together, finding relief from the heartache and replacing it with more promises of love.

  She was the one to drag herself away this time, but the smile remained on her face instead of the frown and the sadness that had haunted us for hours. Before I could protest, she was tugging me toward the door.

  “Let’s go talk to my parents,” she said.

  My heart lurched. Nervous. Worried. But full to the brim with the love I felt for her.

  Eliza

  ALL MY CHRISTMASES

  “Every Christmas from now on

  I'll be here, by your side.”

  Performed by Jillian Edwards

  Written by Jillian Edwards

  My heart was full of relief when we left my bedroom. A complete one-hundred-and-eighty degree difference from when I’d left, chasing after Brett down the hill a few minutes before. The huge twist of anxiety and dread that had lain like a log in my stomach for weeks had flown away. I’d allowed my fears and my past to get the best of me. To doubt his love for me.

  Now, I just wanted to tell my parents and get it over with. The house was quiet, but the lights were still on, which meant Daddy was down in the studio, which was normal when he was in the middle of a new album. He practically lived there when he was making music. It was like it took over his soul, and everything else drifted away.

  Mama never seemed to mind it, knowing he’d come back to her when the words and the rhythms had been laid down. Us kids grew used to it. When the album was done, we’d have the full force of his attention again. Full of love and acceptance. I hoped, with every part of me, they would give that same acceptance to Brett, because he deserved it. We both did.

  I held Brett’s hand as we made our way down to the basement, and when we got to the bottom of the stairs, he stopped me, leaning in to whisper, “We’re going to be okay.”

  I looked up into his eyes, and I knew it for the truth it was. We were.

  Daddy’s voice carried over the melody he played on the keys as I opened the studio door. The words and music were haunting, speaking to my soul like Daddy’s music always did. He sang, “The fear rolled through until there was nothing but gray.”

  Words echoing my feelings from just minutes ago. The fear. But Brett had pushed it aside and reminded me of the light. The joy. The truth of us.

  Mama looked up as we entered from her spot on the love seat in the corner. For as long as I could remember, if Daddy was in the studio at night, Mama was with him, reading her latest obsession until she fell asleep, book in hand.

  “You’re all awake late,” Mama said, and it drew Daddy’s eyes to the two of us. He smiled the big grin that he’d handed down to Ty.

  Brett stepped forward. “I want to apologize.”

  Daddy’s smile slipped, and Mama made her way from the couch to Daddy. He drew her onto his lap like he always did, like Brett often did with me, and I recognized it as a reflection of love and unity. They were in this thing called life together, and now I had someone to go through it with me, just like they had each other.

  “You don’t have to apologize, Brett. It’s me. I’m the one who insisted,” I said, tugging gently on his arm, but Brett ignored my words as he tucked me up close to his side.

  “I do. Sir, as you know, I’m leaving for Texas on New Year’s. I’ll be there for almost two years, going through flight training, and I couldn’t stand the thought of doing all that without this woman at my side. So, I asked her to marry me. And she did.”

  Silence as Mama and Daddy processed what Brett said.

  “Wait. Did? As in already done?” Daddy asked with a rare frown on his face.

  “I was the one who pushed it to happen so quickly. It was my idea. And Brett wanted me to invite you,” I jumped in. “He said I should, but I—”

  “You got married,” Mama repeated, as if she hadn’t heard either of us quite right. Her voice was full of worry and hurt. My stomach flipped.

  “It was just at the clerk’s office,” I said, trying to downplay it, but that seemed to make it worse. She turned wide eyes from Brett’s face to mine.

  “You got married?” Her eyes filled with tears.

  We all stood there, staring at each other for a moment. Brett’s body was tight. Full of offense and defense and everything in between. This was my fault.

  “Brett wanted me to tell you. I―”

  “Why didn’t you?” Daddy asked. He didn’t look at me, though. He looked at Brett, and I felt Brett stiffen even more next to me.

  “I wanted Eliza to do it her way,” Brett said.

  “You were afraid we’d pitch a fit, and she’d back out,” Daddy continued with anger—anger Daddy showed even less than he showed his frown. I could count on one hand the times we’d seen it growing up. He was always smiles and teases and positivity. Not now. Daddy was pissed.

  “No,” Brett insisted.

  “Then what?”

  “I was afraid she’d leave for Texas with anger following her instead of love,” Brett said quietly. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t meet anger with anger. He was calm and beautiful, and I couldn’t have been more proud of him. Especially when this was all my fault. But he was facing it with me, taking the burden as his.

  “You were that sure she wouldn’t walk away from you?” Daddy asked, taken aback by both Brett’s comment and his confidence.

  “I’m that sure we love each other, sir. Yes.”

  Silence followed his comment. I wanted to say something. I wanted to be able to move past this moment. I wanted to show them how much Brett and I really did love each other, but I felt like it would have been just words until they knew him better. Until they knew the union called us better.

  He was the stable ground I’d been searching for my whole life. My calm. My solace. My future. He was the piece of me I’d been missing and suddenly found. How did you let go of the one person who’d stitched up all your holes? You couldn’t.

  Daddy turned his eyes to me. “We can still get it annulled. It isn’t too late.”

  “What?” It was Mama who spoke and not me. “Derek, how can you say that?”

  “Little Bird, she didn’t even have a prenup. She doesn’t have any protection.”

  Brett’s body became a brick wall, and I started to defend him, but he spoke ahead of me.

  “I’ll sign whatever papers you need now, sir,” Brett said. “I don’t want Eliza’s money or yours. I just want Eliza. I just want to wake up knowing she’s with me. I just want to get through my day knowing she’ll be there when I walk in the door. She’s everything good in my life. The very best of everything in it.”

  Brett’s words were as beautiful as him, and Daddy loved beautiful words, so it seemed to take some of Daddy’s anger and concer
n and loosen their hold on him. His hand found Mama’s. After he’d looked from her to us, he cleared his throat as if he was uncomfortable.

  “It’s not just the money. Are you really prepared for everything that comes from loving each other?”

  Shock reverberated over me at Daddy’s implication of our skin not matching. He must have seen the look on my face, or the way Brett went from brick to stone, because his eyes and voice softened. “I’m not saying I care that he’s black. If he loves you the way you deserve to be loved, that’s all that matters. I’m assuming that’s what Brett’s parents want for him as well. But your love… It’ll have to be strong enough to face more than just the normal newlywed challenges.”

  It wasn’t the first time I’d thought about this―that Brett and I had thought about it. It was hard not to think about it when we’d already experienced dirty looks and comments flung our way, but it was even harder to have the people I loved most acknowledging it as one of the first things they saw about us. Not our love, but our differences.

  “Contrasts,” I said.

  “What?” Mama asked.

  “Uncle Lonnie told me, once, it was my specialty. Showing the world contrasts. Exposing differences as unified parts of the same whole.” I said it quietly but full of resolve. It was ridiculous to assume I could face millenniums of racism with a photograph and determination, but I was determined our life would do exactly that: show the beauty of us to the world.

  I raised Brett’s hand to my lips, kissed it, and then let go. I moved toward my parents and curved my hand over their joined ones.

  “That’s what Brett and I are. We may appear to be a contrast, but we’re really just love. One whole. I know that for sure because I’ve had a wonderful model of what love should look like in front of me my entire life. And I’ve found that in Brett. He’s me, and I’m him. Like you are each other. I don’t want to go months without that other part of myself. I don’t want to go a day without seeing him. And right now, while he’s at flight school, I can do that. I can save up for the times when he’s on assignment and I’ll be without him. For every moment of every day that we can be together, that’s what I want. Him. Us.”