“Hey, this a mote,” Tadpole said, running around the complete rectangle of the house. I laughed at his imagination and unlocked the door.
“What is this place, Drew?” Morgan asked, looking around the country property, now covered in about five inches of snow. I pushed the door and stepped aside for her. Her eyes grew larger when she saw all of our belongings. I knew this part was probably going to piss her off, but I also knew it was the only way. I had guys working all week on getting our things here and put away before I brought them.
“Is anything back at the house?”
“No, well, there’s a bunch of boxes out in the garage. Things that I wasn’t sure what you wanted me to do with. Like the boys’ comforters and things like that.”
“I just bought those,” she said, looking around the house. “I don’t understand this, Drew. What are we doing here?”
“You can still use their things, love. Hey, get in here before you freeze your peckers off,” I urged, grabbing both boys with the second lap around the house.
“Drew!” Morgan scolded.
I laughed and wrapped my arms around her from behind. I couldn’t help it. I was happy and I wanted her to be happy. “I fell in love with this place as soon as Solomon showed it to me. A rich banker bought it a year ago and remodeled the entire house. He wanted a quiet place to bring his family to get away from all the rat race of the city,” I explained the story as it was told to me.
“What happened?” she questioned, leaning into me. I closed my eyes, taking in her scent and the feel of her body.
“They got a divorce and he just so happened to list it a couple days before I got stranded here.”
“Oh, that’s encouraging,” she barked, pulling away. “Oh my god, Drew. Look at this kitchen,” Morgan exclaimed. I knew she would love that part. The kitchen was totally remodeled into the perfect modern day dream.
“Remember when you hated the idea of black cabinets?” I asked, reminiscing about remodeling the kitchen at the beach house.
“I don’t hate this. I love it,” she said, opening one of the doors to a walk-in pantry. “I’m trying really hard to understand what the hell is going on here. You bought this for a vacation home? Were you planning on us living at the beach house? That’s what drives me crazy, Drew. I merely mentioned the thought of moving and you go buy a house in Little House on The Prairie where it snows of all things.”
“Look at this, love,” I said, taking her hand. I saw the light in her eyes when we walked down the one step. The sun room was beautiful and she couldn’t hide her approval. The guy obviously had kids. A stone fireplace burned at the end of the room with four beanbag chairs. I could not wait to sit there and drink hot chocolate with my family, listening to five and three-year-old chatter.
Morgan looked back at the kitchen and I knew she was picturing our boys, playing here while she prepared our meals. The furniture was a puffy sectional placed in the center of the flat screen hanging from the wall.
“This is my seat,” Tadpole and Nicholas called, jumping to the two beanbags on the ends. I was fine with that. It put me closer to Morgan.
“This is like a plantation,” Morgan alleged, walking to the glass wall. The backyard was beautiful with blue lights pointing straight up at aged oak trees. A bluish tint spread across the fresh white snow, illuminating a postcard view.
“Shhh,” I warned with my finger before Morgan could blurt the clubhouse out in the back yard. “Adam’s shop class built it for me as a class project. Wait until you see the inside, Sole’s wife is an amazing decorator. I can’t wait for you to meet her.”
I walked around the house with my family, proudly showing them every room. Nicholas and Tadpole ran just ahead of us, feeling out their new surroundings.
“You don’t plan on us leaving here, do you, Drew?” Morgan asked, turning to me when the boys ran into a room I would have made into my office before a family. Not now. Now it was a room full of old library books. Books I’d bought from a closing library back in LA. I did it on a whim, knowing someday I would have a reason to use them. Morgan loved the library, always did. This was for her. This was her room.
The white trimmed glass looked over the same backyard, leading to the deck where Nicholas and Tadpole would play. Morgan turned to me, trying her best not to crack. She loved it. I could tell she loved it. What reader wouldn’t love this room? The walls were covered in an elegant historic wallpaper with a silver swirl design. I wasn’t even a reader and I could feel the homey atmosphere.
I could see lots of books being read in this room. Nicky and Tad were still little guys, but they loved to read. If Morgan had anything to do with it, they always would. Not a day went by that she didn’t read to those boys.
“You want to see where the magic happens?” I smirked.
Morgan tried like hell to fight the curl in her lip. “Shut-up,” she said, backhanding me in the chest.
“I do want to see the magic room,” Tadpole exclaimed. Both boys ran ahead of us on the beautiful restored stairway. Nicky and Tad sat on a bench against the wall. The landing broke the vertical steps into a curve. My fingers touched Morgan’s while we seriously had to stand and wait for the boys to rest. She didn’t take my hand, but at least she didn’t pull away.
“Okay, come on you little pussies,” I barked orders. “I mean pansies, not that other word,” I encouraged, seeing the death glare from my wife.
“Pussies.” Tadpole had to go and sell me out. Traitor. I got the look again and we did what we always did when that happened. We ignored it and made them think about something else.
“Which room do you think is yours, Nicky?”
“Um, I don’t need a room at this house. I’m not sleeping here. We better go to our other house,” he informed me.
“We will after Christmas. Look,” I said, opening his door first. I needed to keep him from a breakdown. Thank god his eyes lit up. Solomon helped with this, too. The train track went the whole length of the wall, up and around the door in a complete circle.
“Well it’s not done,” Nicholas informed me. I smiled, knowing exactly what he was thinking. “No, don’t touch it Tadpole, this is my room,” Nicky ordered, shoving his little brother in the chest for brushing his fingers across the shiny train. I reached over and switched off the moving train.
“Hey, you don’t have to push him. You have to tell him with words,” Morgan stepped in, kneeling to his level.
“Well, Dad said this is my room. I don’t want him to touch it,” Nicholas explained very concerned-like.
“Okay, but you can ask him not to touch it with you words, not your hands. Tell him you’re sorry and Daddy will turn it back on,” Morgan persuaded, rubbing his chest. This is why Morgan took care of the discipline. I have a hard time seeing things like she did. I would have probably shoved him, too.
“Sorry, Tad,” Nicholas pouted. I flipped the switch and explained why it wasn’t done.
“I thought since Christmas is coming up, we could finish it together.”
“With buildings, and houses, and bridges?” Nicholas wondered.
“Yup, wait until you see John’s train set. You’re going to meet him tomorrow at the barn.”
Tadpole was jumping up and down, wanting to see his own room. Right across the hall was his own little setup. His track went along the same wall as Nicky’s, but his was a bat mobile instead of a train. Both rooms were still pretty bare, but once we got their curtains and bedding out, it would be just like home.
Morgan sucked her bottom lip between her teeth when I opened the double doors, leading to our bedroom.
“Oh my god, Drew. This is amazing.”
“You love it?”
“Who wouldn’t?”
Morgan walked around the historic bedroom, taking in every single inch. She loved it. I could tell she did. Her eyes sparkled when she opened the French doors to our private terrace. As soon as the ice-cold air blew her hair, she closed them with a shiver. The bathroom got t
he same reaction. The claw foot tub may not fit both of us, but one could be very comfortable. The vision of her covered in girly bubbles reclined in the tub crossed my mind.
Morgan never did admit how much she loved the plantation, but she didn’t have to. I could tell by the expressions written all over her face. I could tell she loved the custom kitchen. Morgan mixed a casserole while Nicholas, Tad, and I sat on the beanbag chairs and watched the crackling fire. That’s when the fun began.
“Where’s my blanket, Mom…”
I have to admit, the house was gorgeous. And although darkness fell around the property, I knew the land was just as breathtaking. That wasn’t my problem. Of course, we had to deal with a major meltdown before Nicholas was going to sleep. He wanted his blanket and I couldn’t believe we were making him stay in this strange house without the security of his blanky. It was just as much my fault as it was Drew’s, but I was mad at him for it. He was the one forcing us to come here, not me.
I worked around the house, unpacking the boys’ things while Drew and the boys explored their new surroundings. It was nearly eight before the boys were bathed and in pajama’s. Tadpole was excited to sleep in his new room, but Nicholas wasn’t having it. Needless to say, three stories later, he was still wide awake.
Drew took over so I could enjoy the new tub calling my name around ten. That tub was made for me. It was heaven in a tub. The white snow coming down outside the window while I felt the wave of relief was no doubt pretty. Nonetheless, lying in that magnificent tub, watching the big fluffy drops floating to the ground did bring back a hint of nostalgia. It was quickly gone when my mind drifted to that place and time.
I might have been four or five. It was before Justin, so I know I wasn’t too old. It was Christmas night and the whole town was eerily quiet. I remember being in the backseat of a bigger car with my mother. It was late and the lights in the truck stop were off when we pulled beside the semi-truck in the parking lot.
“Stay here, I’ll be right back,” my mother said, leaving me alone in the back seat of the car. I watched the man take my mom in his arms right before she pulled him around the truck to keep me from seeing. I sat there in the car with my fingers locked between the door panel and the window, until I got in a little bit of a jam. I pushed my little index finger through the crack between the two and got it stuck. Every time I tried to pull it out, it got stuck on something really sharp. I cried for my mom while I watched her climb into the truck. She never heard me. I cried for what seemed like forever for a little kid with their finger stuck. The guy closed the curtain when the two of them climbed in the back.
I cried in the big old car all alone while my mother got it on with some trucker. By the time she climbed out there was an inch of snow on the ground and my finger felt like it was going to fall off. When my mother of the year, mother finally figured out what was going on, she had to yell for her trucker buddy to help.
“You’re okay, sweetie. Hang on one second,” the nice man soothed, stroking my hair. I liked that man. He was very nice to me. He talked to me like a real daddy did and he made me feel safe. “What did Santa bring you this morning?” he asked, trying to bend metal away from my finger with the flat head screwdriver.
“We didn’t get there in time,” I said.
“You didn’t get where sweetie?”
“To the Christmas line. Santa took my presents there because of the snow yesterday, and my mom couldn’t get there in time,” I explained. I got a Dollar General plastic doll and a yo-yo that year. Hmmm. I wonder if that’s why I hate snow and Christmas so much. I now know that line wasn’t because Santa couldn’t get to my house. That line was the welfare line where poor people got Christmas presents for their kids. My mother couldn’t even get there to get mine. My guess is she was too busy with her trucker friend to worry about her daughter waking with no presents.
Maybe that’s why I hated Christmas so much too. It was nothing more than an act, a time of year people pretended to be happy, a day to fake it. Who wants to put a stupid tree in the house anyway? My dad would never let us have a tree in the trailer I grew up in. He said it would dry out and catch the house on fire with the wood burner. I made my own trees out of a branch and junk around the house. Maybe that’s why I always chose the artificial ones.
“He’s finally out,” Drew announced with relief. “I can’t believe we went off and left his blanket in the dryer. How’s the tub?”
I wanted to slide forward and tell him to get in. My pride wouldn’t let me. “It’s amazing. My grandma had a tub like this, but not near as luxurious.” And there was the awkward silence where neither of us knew what to say.
“Okay, well, I’m going to go make sure everything’s locked up and check on the boys one more time.”
“Okay,” I responded with the only thing I knew to respond with. I ignored the little tube of lipstick where I knew I had twenty six, tiny pills to keep me happy for the next month of whatever this was Drew was up to. I retrieved my phone instead, putting it out of my mind. I’d already used one and a half and I had no idea how I was going to get more, not until we got out of the Gun Smoke town anyway.
I dressed in warm sweat pants and a hoodie. The house may have been beautifully remodeled, but it still had that old cold feel to it. I dialed Alicia and sprinted to get under the warm covers.
“Are you cold?” Drew asked, turning the gas logs on in the fireplace in the corner. Aahh, I felt warmer already.
“Drew? Please tell me there’s cellphone service here,” I begged not seeing one bar.
“Nope, but the landline will be installed tomorrow. This snow is done. Solomon said it would be melted off the roads by the afternoon tomorrow.”
“What if something happens? What if we need to call a squad or something?”
“We won’t. Everyone is fine, and you can talk to Alicia tomorrow. I’m going to grab a shower.”
“You should try out that tub. It’s incredible.”
“I will later. I just want to jump in and jump out. It should warm up in here pretty quick.” Drew smiled a warm smile, trying to be loving. It wasn’t that I wanted to hurt him, or argue with him. I did want to be happy with him. I just couldn’t do it with the way he went about things. I was standing in a house that my husband bought without so much as one word. Sarcastically in his defense, he was going to tell me, but he didn’t have time. It just happened. Whatever.
After digging through a box marked blankets in the beautiful but messy closet, I sat in front of the flickering fire. The loveseat was from our house in California, but I didn’t remember it being this comfortable. We never really used it there, but I could see us sitting in front of this cozy fire every cold night.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Drew asked, sitting next to me.
“It would be nicer if it was real wood,” I complained, lifting the blanket for him. Hmm, he smelled amazing.
“Come here, you’re not allowed to complain for the next thirty days either,” Drew decided, raising his arm for me to snuggle close to him. His arms felt too welcoming and familiar. I missed Drew’s arms.
“So I can’t complain about a house that you bought in the middle of the sticks, where it’s cold and snowy? I can’t complain about you taking it upon yourself to move us out of our home in two point seven seconds? I can’t complain about how the movers you hired packed the bathroom stuff in the same box with my dishes? I can’t complain about—.”
“Okay, okay. I get it. You have to give me this month. Thirty days. That’s all I’m asking. Trust me for the next thirty days.”
His trust me comment caused me to instantly retreat and feel the distance between us.
“What? Morgan. Talk to me. Stop pulling away from me,” Drew plead, trying to keep me in his arms.
“You can’t force trust, Drew. And so far you’ve given me nothing to trust you with.”
“And you have?” he asked, taking my fingers. I pulled away. I wasn’t doing this. I was tired from travel
ing with the boys, emotionally drained about a move I didn’t want, and my head was starting to ache just above my temples.
I pulled away. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
I heard the sigh from Drew when I walked away. “We have to be at the barn by eleven tomorrow,” he just so happen to remember at eleven thirty at night.
“The barn?” I questioned with a knowing look.
“You’ll see tomorrow. You’re going to love it.”
“Yeah. I know. Trust me. Night, Drew,” I said, sliding beneath the covers in my full armored sweat suit body.
I watched the cozy fire, and Drew. He propped his feet to the ottoman and crossed his arms. Contemplating the purpose of all of this, my eyes blinked with the flickering fire. I always knew Drew was crazy, but selling the store for this made no sense to me. Drew was far from the outdoors type. Why this place was beyond me. He didn’t even mow his own lawn.
I woke a couple hours later to a little foot in my left kidney and Nicholas whispering to his dad asleep on the loveseat in front of the fire.
“Come here, buddy,” I whispered. My heart hurt for my little guy when he walked to me crying. “I’m sorry, Nicky. Grandma’s going to send your blanket first thing in the morning.”
“I’m not a baby,” he assured me, crawling to the security of my arms. I loved it when he was cuddly with me and I hated that he was this upset because Drew and I dropped the ball. Poor kid.
“I know you’re not, but maybe you can start out slow, maybe leave blanket on the chair for a few nights, and then maybe the living room.”
“That’s a good idea. I will do it, but not the first time,” Nicholas said. I smiled, knowing that blanket wouldn’t leave his arms for a very long time.
“Good, what do you think of this place? Do you like it?” I asked, ruffling his hair.
“I’m going to build a snowman.”
“Do you like your room?”
“Yeah, I like it. Am I going to live there?”
An Underestimated Christmas (Underestimated 3) Page 18