One Night at Christmas

by Tressie Lockwood

  Wait, a week is not long!

  If she wanted to be a skank, she would jump right into bed with another man—after her monthly in this case. That’s how women couldn’t figure out who the daddy of their baby was. Thinking of a baby, she sighed and pulled out of Morris’s grasp.

  “Don’t get physical, Morris. I’m not in the mood.”

  “You make it sound like I abused you.”

  “Please, I would have chopped you off at the knees.”

  “I waited a week, Charon.”

  “And?”

  “And…”

  He paced. She noticed the square lump in his jean pocket. So he was back on that again, planning to ask her to marry him. Her stomach muscles tightened. This would be a battle.

  “I’m not going to ask you to marry me again.”

  “Huh?” She pointed. “I see the ring box in your pants.”

  “So what?” He jerked the box from his pocket and slammed it on her table. She jumped despite seeing him do it. Her nerves were wound up too tight. Guilt over how she had treated him ate at her. She had trouble keeping it straight in her head so that she wouldn’t accept being with him as a “do right by him” attitude. A woman shouldn’t marry a man because she treated him wrong or because he loved her so much it had to be rewarded.

  She groaned and sank down to the couch. Now her thinking wasn’t making logical sense. The decision to break things off in a more permanent way had seemed so clean cut the night before. No one else would do after making love with Bryson.

  Morris continued to pace. She took in his handsome face with the smooth chocolate skin. From the looks of it he had gone to the barbershop before he came to her place and had his hair trimmed. The goatee and mustache looked neat. He’d wanted to impress her. She couldn’t help comparing Morris to Bryson. Morris didn’t lose per se, but she recalled with vivid clarity how Bryson’s tanned and taut skin looked and felt beneath her fingers. He’d been all hard sinewy muscle and perfection.

  By comparison, Morris was also decently built. He kept himself in shape with the help of his job at a shipping company. He could be a little too angry and fussy sometimes, which was what usually led to their arguments, but he wasn’t a bad guy. Charon found him attractive, but she didn’t love Morris like she loved Bryson. Everything about Bryson drove her wild.

  “I said I wouldn’t say anything,” he began.

  She resisted groaning. This was going to lead to drama. She could already see it. “Then don’t. I’m not looking for an argument, Morris. You need to understand that I—”

  “I love you, Charon.”

  She ground her teeth.

  “I know now that you don’t love me.”

  Her eyes widened. “What did you say?”

  For a moment, she thought she saw tears in his eyes. The guilt intensified. Then he blinked, and she didn’t see anything but resignation. “You don’t love me. That’s why I’m not going to ask you to marry me again.”

  Relief flooded her being.

  “But let me ask you, where’s it going to get you, loving him?”

  She gasped. “L-loving who? I’m not with anyone else.” That was kind of true.

  He looked at her like he was pissed that she would dare to lie.

  “You don’t have to believe me, Morris. I’m not in the mood to argue with you.”

  “No, we’re not going to argue.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief when he dropped down on the couch beside her and grabbed her hand. Pulling and tugging did nothing to get free. They played a game of tug o’ war for a minute until he slid all the way to the floor and knelt in front of her.

  “Morris, get up! You said you weren’t going to do this. I won’t be guilt tripped into dating you, so if that’s what you think forget it. And I won’t be held hostage in my own apartment. If you think I’m not going to call the police, you’ve got another thought coming.”

  “He’ll never marry you!”

  “Shut your damn mouth.” She swore under her breath, annoyed that he riled her. He wouldn’t believe she wasn’t seeing someone else. That was another of Morris’ faults. He was jealous as hell. Bryson never seemed to be jealous even when things were going good between them and they flirted. Then again, why would he be jealous? He didn’t care about her like that.

  Morris grew quiet. “I don’t mean it like that, Charon. I’m not trying to pick a fight. I love you so much, baby.”

  She flinched at the endearment.

  “I’ve probably got nothing on him. I pack boxes all day and only get paid a few dollars above minimum wage, which I had to bust my ass for. But I know I love you, girl. I would do anything for you—including pretending you didn’t spend the weekend with another man.”

  Her mouth fell open, and he nodded.

  “Yeah, I know about him because I called, and he answered.”

  She almost fainted.

  “He said I had a choice.”

  For a moment, hope rose in her heart, thinking somehow Bryson had told Morris to back off. A beat later, common sense returned. If Bryson felt that way, he wouldn’t have let her fly home, and she would have heard from him in the last week. They hadn’t spoken once, and her life never felt so empty. The two of them had already made their choice.

  She and Bryson didn’t love each other enough.

  The realization hit her hard. Her life wasn’t some romantic movie where the hero and heroine left all to follow the love of their life. For that matter, Bryson never asked her to leave her life behind and join him in his city. They had always made their desired lifestyles clear for each other. From her first conversation with him, she knew he thought marriage was just a tool for stepping up socially and financially. He knew she wouldn’t live in a big city like New York if someone paid her.

  A sound from Morris brought her back to the present. “What kind of choice did Bryson say you have?”

  “Bryson. Is that his name?” He wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Sounds like one of those uppity people with money. Was he slumming with you, seeing what it was like to get one of our Black women?”

  “Don’t even start with that crap.”

  “Charon, I don’t care that you love him. He doesn’t plan on being with you, so I’m here to say if he doesn’t want you, I do. If you feel like you don’t have anything left because he’s gone, then let me fill that hole.”

  She covered her mouth and blinked away tears.

  “I’m not going to ask you to marry me because you don’t want me to. I’ll just be your boyfriend, if that’s what you want. You can set the terms. I’ll accept whatever you say. If the day comes when you want to get married, I’m here. If you want kids, I got you. If not, that’s all right too.”

  She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. His heartfelt words cut straight to her core. Morris had never spoken this way. He had never opened his heart to appear vulnerable. In fact, his first proposal was the most unromantic offer she’d ever heard. This though, he was a different man, and she didn’t know what to say. She supposed, he deserved the absolute truth.

  “You’re right.” She touched the back of her hand to her nose. “I love Bryson. I’m so sorry, Morris. It’s true. I don’t know what I’m going to do without him in my life.”

  Morris crumbled and turned away. He sat on his butt with his hands on his knees and his head bowed. Her heart broke for hurting him.

  “I don’t mean to hurt you. The last thing I want is that, but I can’t help how I feel, Morris. We had some good times. I don’t want to lie or pretend with you. I don’t know when or if I’ll ever get over Bryson, and I don’t want to use you.”

  “And if I want to be used?” He kept his head bowed.

  “That’s not fair to you.”

  “But it’s my choice.”

  “That’s the choice Bryson gave you?”

  He ground his teeth, hating to admit Bryson advised him. “He reminded me about what I already knew. If I want to be with you, I needed to think about wheth
er I could accept what happened with him.”

  “I—”

  “I know.” He didn’t want to hear again that she still loved Bryson. “Look, you can be alone, and there’s nothing wrong with that, or you can be with me. I will gladly give you everything I have. It’s not much, but I’ll do it. I can close on that house.”

  “You said there was a time limit.”

  “There is, but I have what my dad left me last year when he died.”

  “Morris, that’s probably going to be all of your inheritance.”

  “Yeah and it’s what that kind of thing is for.”

  “If you buy the house, you do it because you want it. Not for me.”

  “I’ll do it for both of us.”

  “I can’t take advantage of you.”

  “You would be giving me the woman I love. Think about it, okay? Just…think about it.” He kissed her cheek and left the apartment without another word. She fell onto the couch and shut her eyes. When she started that day, she never could have imagined it would turn out like this.

  Chapter Eight

  Four years later…

  “You have got to be kidding me.” Charon glared at the flat tire as if it would fix itself. The stupid thing continued to mock her. She grumbled under her breath as she phoned her roadside service. All she needed to ruin her night was to get home late. Every time she turned around, it seemed like life conspired to put her through more mess.

  “Are you alright, sista?” An African American man pulled his car up next to hers. She’d seen him in the grocery store checking her out, and she never made eye contact. The ring on her finger should have been enough to deter him. Apparently, it wasn’t.

  “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks.” She dialed the number on the service card. “I’m covered, so everything is fine. Thanks for asking though.”

  He threw his car in park, but he didn’t lower the volume on the music blasting from the stereo. “Don’t sweat it, baby. I got you. I’ll have that tire changed in a minute.”

  She bit off a groan. “Seriously, I’m good. My husband is on the way.”

  He grinned, not taking no for an answer. “If he knew what he had, he’d have brought you to the store himself rather than let you run around alone.”

  “He trusts me, and I’m a grown woman who can decide for myself where I go.” She didn’t mean to sound harsh, but he was plucking her nerves and delaying her getting out of there.

  A glance in the back of the car told her that her daughter was still content with the cookies Charon bought for her. Naomi’s chubby cheeks were covered with double chocolate chip cookie crumbs. Charon decided then and there when she got in, she would unwind with her baby girl in the bathtub. They would include bubbles of course and about a million toys Naomi couldn’t bathe without.

  The idiot who couldn’t take a hint stepped into her line of sight, cutting off the vision of her daughter. “How about after I change your tire you give me your number?”

  “Maybe you didn’t hear me. I’m married.” She held up her hand as he began to speak. “And before you say anymore, I’m not interested. I don’t cheat, and Morris is super jealous, so please back off.”

  He swore. “Damn, well you aren’t that fine anyway.”

  “Yeah okay, whatever.”

  He stomped back to his car and peeled rubber out of the lot. She called the roadside assistance service and then started to call Morris. Before she could, Naomi started wailing.

  Charon leaned into the back of the car. “What’s wrong, baby? Why are you crying?”

  “I bith math thng,” she whined, crocodile tears rolling down her cheeks.

  “Ah, poor thing.” Charon kissed her cheek and stroked the soft skin. “You have to slow down, baby. Nobody’s going to take your cookies away. Shh, it’s okay. It will be all better in a minute.”

  Her three-year-old continued to whimper. Charon loved her to pieces, but her daughter was always crying over something. Morris had told her he was a crybaby when he was a kid and that their daughter took after him. He seemed to be proud of it. Charon willed Naomi to grow out of the habit soon. Not that she made little of a bitten tongue. That mess could hurt. Naomi cried over several things that day, and the last had prompted Charon to buy the cookies. There was no peace to be had.

  By the time she got her baby calm, the man in the mini pickup, who would change her tire, was rolling into the lot. Charon sat on a parking spot barrier with Naomi on her lap until he was done. An hour later, they were on their way. As Charon headed down the road, she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. She’d forgotten to call Morris. He would be annoyed that she was late.

  “It’s not like it was on purpose,” she muttered to herself.

  “What, Mommy?”

  “Nothing, baby.”

  She frowned to herself. What was the big deal? So she took a little longer than she meant to at the grocery store. He wouldn’t starve. There was food in the house. In fact, she’d made sure there was still some lunchmeat in there and sub rolls. Plus, there were a few cans of soda he could drink.

  “Why am I trying to justify myself? If he can’t figure out things happen, that’s his problem. I don’t have to feel guilty.”

  “What, Mommy?”

  Charon laughed. Her mood lightened a little. She looked at Naomi in the rearview mirror. “I said we’re going to take a bath together after dinner, and I’ll watch one of your movies with you. Think about which one you want to see.”

  “Yay! Horses!”

  Charon shook her head. Naomi was obsessed with horses, but any movie with animals in it became a favorite. Charon mentally prepared to watch something they had seen a hundred times. Naomi didn’t care. She acted like she saw it for the first time each time she watched, and she cracked up at the funny parts too.

  A short while later, Charon pushed the door open to the cottage where she, her daughter, and Morris lived. Morris kept his promise about buying the house, and he never let her forget it.

  The door banged against the wall, startling her. She looked into her husband’s angry face. “Where the hell have you been, Charon?”

  “Morris, watch your mouth.”

  “Who do you think you’re talking to?”

  She rolled her eyes and pushed past him. “Can I get in the door before you grill me? Jeez, you’d think the grocery bags would be a clue.”

  “Don’t give me that.”

  He followed her into the kitchen, not even grabbing a bag. Naomi ran to her room probably to look for a movie to watch. Morris was in the mood to harangue her.

  “You were supposed to be back an hour ago.”

  She slammed the bag she carried on the kitchen table. “I had a flat, alright? Get off my back.”

  “Likely story. You went to see that guy, didn’t you?”

  “What guy?”

  “You know who the fuck I mean.”

  “I said watch your damn mouth!”

  “Naomi is in her room. She can’t hear us.”

  “She probably can with you shouting. I’ve had a long day, and I’m tired. Leave me alone.”

  “You were shopping not working.”

  “With Naomi.”

  She started for the pantry to put away some canned goods, but he grabbed her arm and whipped her around to face him. “I forgave you when you didn’t deserve it. Now, I deserve some respect.”

  “Oh my God, not that again!” She jabbed a finger in his chest. His attitude was more than she could take today. Normally, she tried to placate him, make him feel better, help him to believe that she was committed to him forever. Today, her patience was shot to hell, and she’d had years of him throwing the past in her face. “You act like I betrayed you, but you need to remember we weren’t together when I was with someone else.”

  “You didn’t love me when we got married. I wonder if you love me now.”

  “Stop! I can’t take it anymore, Morris. Maybe we got together in the wrong way, but I’ve been faithful to you. I’m sick
of hearing how you did me a favor. All you’ve done is grow more and more bitter over the last few years. You don’t trust me even though I never cheated. You’re always on my back. All Naomi ever hears from us is fighting, and I’m sick to death of it.”

  “So what then? You’re going to leave me?” He moved closer to her, appearing much bigger than normal. She didn’t think for once that he would lay his hands on her, but Morris changed over the last few years. He wanted to intimidate her. “After all I sacrificed for you?”

  “What sacrifice?”

  “Admit it, Charon. You still love him.”

  She threw her hands up and left the kitchen. Let him argue with himself. When she reached their room, she pushed the door mostly closed. She didn’t want to shut it all the way in case their daughter wanted to come in. Hopefully, Morris would get the point that she didn’t want to talk to him.

  In her bathroom, she looked through the collection of bubble baths she kept there. They had candy apple, bubble gum, and strawberry scents. She kept them in her bathroom because Naomi liked to get into them and pour most of it down the drain when she tried to give her toys a bath. Charon had to keep her eye on her daughter to keep her out of trouble. Three-year-olds were always busy getting into things.

  After she chose the bubbles and puttered around in her bedroom just to give herself time to calm down, she returned to the kitchen. Thankfully, Morris had disappeared into the den where he watched ballgames on TV. Charon hated the sound of the games in the house, but she dealt with it when it meant Morris would give her space.

  She prepared a quick dinner of tacos and salad and set the table. Then she went to get her daughter to wash her hands. “Time for dinner, baby.”

  Her daughter knelt in front of the TV with the DVD out of its case. Her fingerprints were all over the disk. Charon sighed.

  “Mommy, do you hate Daddy?”

  “No, baby, of course not.”

  “Does Daddy hate you?”

  “How do you even know that word?”

  “Daddy said it.”

  Charon ground her teeth. “He said he hates me?”