Wrapped in Red: Martha's Way: A Christmas Novella

by Jolie, Mika

  Taking her hand in his, he led her down the hall into the dimly lit family room. On the grand, Chesterfield, cocoa-leather sofa, Forrest slouched low, with his head lying back on the cushion, and his signature black framed glasses slightly crooked upon his nose. Maya lay securely tucked on his chest. Not too far away, Claire—Forrest’s fiancée—was in the same position. Her ebony hair trussed up in a bun, with a few loose strands brushing her shoulders. Her arms circled around baby Bas as he nuzzled against her. All four of them were fast asleep.

  Minka let out a deep breath of relief, her heart slowly steadying. Jason gave her hand a squeeze, then walked over to his brother and lightly nudged his shoulder.

  “You’re home early,” Forrest said as he carefully came to his feet. With one hand protectively on Maya’s back, he lowered his head and centered his glasses on his nose with his forefinger. At the sound of his voice, Claire slowly opened her eyes and rose to her feet.

  “Yeah. Minka was a little worried,” Jason informed the others.

  In other words, Minka went fucking crazy. She tried to plaster a smile across her face and failed.

  “Oh.” Claire’s chestnut eyes ping-ponged from Jason to Minka. “Did we accidentally butt dial you when the twins were crying?”

  “There was a moment of chaos,” Forrest admitted with a chuckle. “But we huddled and got a firm grip on the situation.” His gray eyes locked with Claire’s. The two seemed to share a one day it will be us moment and a confidence that said they’d be ready.

  Minka’s heart rattled. Failure squeezed her throat.

  “See chèrie,” Jason said, snapping her from the dark place she seemed to love visiting lately. “They had everything under control.” His voice revealed none of the frustration she knew was roiling below the surface.

  Ignoring her husband’s steely gaze, she walked past him to Forrest. “You guys weren’t answering your messages.” She extended her hands to relieve her brother-in-law of Maya, still snuggling comfortably against his chest. “I can take her.”

  “We’ll put them to bed,” Claire volunteered. She smiled at Forrest, her face glowing with delight. “Be right back.”

  Once alone with Jason, the odd, uncomfortable hush returned. Minka watched, waiting for the storm to come. Jason removed his jacket and threw it on the sofa, then quietly started tidying up the room.

  “Jason.”

  “Not now, Minka,” he interjected, his voice tight and controlled.

  Minka pursed her lips. They were good at reading each other’s moods, and right now Jason’s screamed pissed off. The unstable part of her begged to press on and make him comprehend her rationality, but logic told her she understood his frustration. In quiet silence, she picked up a few pillows from the floor and placed them back where they belonged.

  “Sorry. We were going to clean up,” Claire said, walking back into the room with her fiancé.

  Jason waved a dismissing hand at Claire. “Don’t worry about it. We appreciate you watching the twins for the night.”

  “Anytime, little brother,” Forrest said with a teasing glint in his voice, no sign of the anger he’d harbored for months after discovering one of his closest friends was actually his brother.

  “Yeah, we had fun.” Claire let out one of her little laughs as Forrest pulled her to him.

  Minka’s stomach fluttered. Longing clawed deep inside, but she clamped it back down. She couldn’t remember the last time she and Jason were that affectionate, just a man and a woman, husband and wife, lovers, cuddling, touching.

  “Forrest is officially convinced he wants five children,” Claire continued.

  “Definitely more than two,” Forrest confirmed.

  Jason laughed. “I think the three of us suffer from only child syndrome.”

  Minka folded the red throw and placed it on the chaise.

  “Technically, you and I don’t fall in the only child category,” Forrest reminded his brother. They might have different mothers but they shared Charles Montgomery as their father.

  “Very true,” Jason agreed.

  “Still hosting Christmas Eve dinner?” Forrest asked.

  Now that they were all either married or soon to be tying the knot, the Wolf Pack had established a new tradition for the holidays. One couple would host Christmas Eve dinner each year. Since luck had been on her side, she and Jason won the coin toss and were first at bat. There was only one problem. Ten days before Christmas, she had no urge to have her house filled with friends and family.

  “Yeah, why do you ask?” Jason answered.

  Claire examined the empty spot by the window where the tree stood last Christmas. “Not decorating this year?”

  Minka brushed a handful of curls away from her face, a smile staining her lips. Her eyes stayed on the unoccupied space where she and Jason had put their first Christmas tree.

  Memories of last Christmas slashed through her—the happiness that soaked into her bones as they stood back, hand in hand, looking at the blinking lights wrapped around the tree. The sound of Andrea Bocelli and Mary J Blige singing What Child is This. The smell of roasted chestnuts mixed with the smoky scent of from the fireplace had been intoxicating.

  Her heart pinched with sadness. She loved Christmas, but could now admit that the Grinch had taken control. If it’d help, she’d gladly send out a plea: Christmas Magic missing. If found, please return.

  Jason ran his hand over his face, something he always did when stressed. “We haven’t picked one up yet,” he said in a deceptively calm voice.

  Minka bit her lip, not saying anything. She’d been so focused on the twins, and, until two days ago, Jason had been away. The moment never presented itself, unlike last year when they’d made everything about Christmas a priority. Their favorite holiday went from meaning everything to nothing in such a short span of time.

  An uncomfortable silence loomed for a moment until Forrest spoke. “Lily’s brothers sent a group message. They’ll be here for Christmas.”

  “Yeah, they challenged us to a basketball game on the day before Christmas Eve.” Jason chuckled. Tension continued playing over his handsome features. “They’re outnumbered. Four of us to three of them.”

  “I asked Tyler to step in for them,” Forrest informed his brother.

  Jason’s brows went up. “Tyler can’t play for shit.”

  “So not fair,” Claire pointed out without a hint of regret.

  The two men laughed, obviously pleased with their genius plotting.

  “We’ll kick their asses,” Forrest noted, “go home, shower, and head over here.”

  His brother nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

  The brothers shook hands, which transitioned into a hug-like, semi-embrace, lasting no more than one second, and finished with a firm slap on the back, solidifying their manhood.

  Forrest grabbed his coat and Claire’s. He then approached Minka and wrapped her into the tightness of his arms. “You okay?” he asked low enough so that no one else heard.

  Her heart squeezed at the tenderness and obvious concern. First instinct told her to deny anything could possibly be wrong and continue with the pretense.

  “I’ll be fine,” she answered. On the contrary, she was far from fine. She had a heavy heart, a reckless mind, and after tonight, she was completely and fully exposed.

  “We’re family, Minka. All of us.” He stretched a hand out to Claire and then the two of them ambled out of the room.

  “What’s going on, Minka?” Jason asked once they were alone. His scary-smart, blue eyes scanned her face for a reaction.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered with reluctance.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Yes. Of course, she wanted to confide in her husband and lean on him. Instead, she said, “I’m not ready.”

  He said nothing for a while, but his eyes pierced through her. She’d have rather he screamed or broke something and let the anger and frustration out, but instead, after a long stare, he said
, “I’m going to bed.” Without another glance, he left the room.

  Panic set in. Her lungs constricted with every breath. She sank into the sofa and buried her face in her hands. There were holes in her tapestry, weft-threads hanging under the existing tension. She’d been crumbling more and more, losing strewn pieces of herself along the way.

  Her heart twisted. The void—the black hole—in her head, deep inside her soul, slowly continued swallowing her whole and claimed its throne. No matter how she sliced and diced it, she had failed to keep her cool, to support her husband, and to have a good time.

  She’d failed again. She couldn’t do anything right, or ignore the feverish anxiety gnawing at her brain and weighing her down. Take tonight, for example. She should have known better, and trusted that the twins would be fine with Forrest and Claire

  Another heavy sigh left her lips.

  A thick, gray murk had taken a permanent spot in the space that should be filled with her love for her children, with Jason’s love. She collapsed further into the sofa, into darkness.

  The house was quiet. She should go to bed and make up for the many hours of lost sleep. In an hour or two, the twins would wake up. Instead, she sat motionless and drank in the silence. Unaware of the time that passed, she stared into the abyss until her anxieties leached away, and the nothingness was replaced by a need to be whole again.

  The realization crawled into her consciousness. It was time to stop the cycle—seek professional help, come clean, and confess to Jason. She scrambled to her feet, and moved her aching limbs up the stairs to the bedroom she shared with Jason.

  The door creaked open. She stepped in just as Jason threw his shirt on the bed, naked from the waist up—every muscle well defined, ripped to perfection, and covered with various tattoos.

  Heat.

  Fire.

  And crazy need stirred between her thighs. No surprise there. Jason naked, half-naked, or fully dressed, always managed to produce a reaction. Lately, she just couldn’t follow through.

  A thick blanket of guilt smothered her heart.

  They held each other’s gaze for a few seconds. “I don’t know where to start,” she said into the silence.

  “Try the beginning.”

  She grabbed one of the baby monitors, flicked a switch, and the screen lit up. Her attention shifted to the image of Maya sleeping peacefully on her back. “I feel...” She paused, searching for the right word. “Heavy,” she whispered. Everything in her life had become difficult to lift or move.

  “I can’t spend the rest of my life convincing you that you’re beautiful.” He pulled a T-shirt from the dresser, frowned at it, and then threw it on the bed next to his shirt. “It will eventually get tiring.”

  Ouch. Not what she meant.

  Asshole.

  And yes, he could spend a lifetime convincing her she was beautiful. That was his job. They’d taken a vow—for better or worse. Marriage had no minimum time period or frequency.

  “I admit that I am self-conscious about the scar tissue from the C-section. But, I wasn’t talking about my weight.” She pushed back the sting of his words and tried to control her flaring temper. She failed. “But thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  He frowned, his gaze drilling into her. “What scar tissue?”

  How the hell had he not noticed? He touched that exact spot the first night he’d returned home from his last business trip.

  Argh! Of course he’d failed to detect it. “You couldn’t have noticed. Your mind is only on one thing. Sex.”

  “I want my wife. What’s wrong with that?” He ran a hand through his blond hair. “And I’m sorry I failed to notice whatever you think is wrong with your body. Do you know why?” His eyes ate her up. It made her as uncomfortable as a chorus girl’s corset and had the same effect on her breathing—constricted and shallow. “Because I don’t give a fuck,” Jason continued. “When I look at you, I don’t search for flaws. You do such a wonderful job at that all by yourself.”

  The harshness of his words ran knives through her stomach. Air whooshed from her lungs. The monitor fell from her hands to the floor. Plastic snapped, and a battery rolled to her feet. Minka bowed her head. Lashes, weighed down with mascara, closed and batted away tears from spilling. Silence fell over them like a lurking monster, so thick and heavy she was sure Jason could hear the rapid beating of her heart.

  Not quite sure how to respond, or react to all of this, she swallowed the painful lump clutching the back of her throat before looking at him.

  Jason walked to the bed, grabbed the T-shirt, rolled it into a ball, and stuffed it back in the dresser. There was no sound in the room. Yet, they were moving.

  Moving but not talking.

  He walked back and forth, picking up a stray bottle and a bib. His body coiled tight with tension. Minka trudged to the bed and sat, tapping her foot up and down. She ached to crack a joke, but she knew he wouldn’t laugh. Although her husband stood only a few feet away from her, he might as well be on the moon.

  She longed for the intimacy that once existed between them, to touch him. Mostly, she missed her husband, lover, and everything in between—the father of her children, the love of her life and the keeper of her heart.

  “Something is wrong,” Jason said, breaking the cold, brittle silence sitting between them. “And you’re not talking to me.”

  The mingled concern and frustration in his voice made her heart clench. She rose to her feet and met her husband’s gaze. “I love you.” Her voice dripped with desperation. He stopped pacing and pinned her with his gaze. The panic and anxiety had flown away, and yet, she still shook. Fear and shame trickled through her veins. Her head bowed. Thick curls fell forward and covered her face as her eyes aimed toward her clasped hands. “I need help, Jason.”

  Chapter Five

  “No space of regret can make amends for one life’s opportunity misused.”

  Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

  With a few, quick steps, Jason erased the space between them. “We can hire a full staff tomorrow.”

  The lack of help was a challenge, but the inundated feeling had very little to do with that, and everything to do with the persistent, dark clouds slugging through her mind.

  Her mouth parted, ready to confide to her husband about the gray and ominous fog in her head, draining her happiness. Instead, shallow breaths fluttered through her lips.

  He cupped her face and brushed her cheeks with rough-padded thumbs. “Tell me what you need from me. I’ll do it.” His gaze searched hers, his brows furrowed with concern.

  “I’m overwhelmed,” she admitted for the first time, her eyes welling with tears. “It’s too much.”

  “I’ll fix it.”

  That was the thing. He couldn’t fix her. Not this time. She took a step back, away from his touch. “You can’t fix me. I’m broken.”

  “We’re all a little broken.” A sad smile touched his lips, a reminder that he, too, was papier-mâché.

  “I can’t fit into my pre-pregnancy jeans. I want to fit into my old clothes.” The pregnancy weight gain was the least of her worries, but it was so easy to use it as a blanket.

  Jason exhaled. She knew where his mind was going—his mother’s struggle with bulimia and the mental illness that eventually took her life.

  “You gave birth to twins less than two months ago,” he said in a quiet voice. “If you want, we can start working out together.”

  They tried that once, and it hadn’t ended well. As a result, muscles she didn’t know she had hurt for days. Since crawling around the house in pain was not her idea of a sexy wife, from then on, she had politely declined every time her husband suggested a run together, or any other form of exercise.

  “I can’t keep up with you.”

  “You can keep up.” His mouth twitched into one of those sexy smiles, letting her know his mind was on another form of calorie-burning activity. Despite the fact her stomach was coiling into knots, she cracked a smil
e. “I want my wife back,” Jason said gently, a plea in his voice.

  Her heart squished in her chest. Those five little words ripped right through her. A single tear slid down her cheek, followed by another, then another. Soon, a steady stream flowed down her face, releasing the sadness and sorrow that had been held inside her all this time.

  He pulled her against his chest and enveloped her in his arms. His warm, strong embrace made her frail body feel protected. “I’m right here with you.”

  His voice held so much love and strength, that it broke down her barrier. No longer able to hold back, her body wracked with noisy sobs, slowly releasing her emotion with tears, and wordlessly letting Jason know of her pain.

  She sagged against him, lost in his strength and maleness, her muscles becoming loose. Time passed. Jason continued to hold her and let her cry until there was nothing left. She wasn’t sure how long they stood there, with her cocooned like a butterfly-to-be in his arms, until her worries slowly lost their keen sting, and optimism raised its head from the dirt.

  “I think I have postpartum depression,” she admitted for the first time. His grip tightened around her. “I’m ashamed to admit I need professional help.” There, she’d given life to the dark emotions and spoke the big ‘A’ word wrapped in red and gnawing at her consciousness.

  “That’s not something to be ashamed of.”

  “I want to be the best wife, and mother to our children.” She brushed a curl away from her eyes. “But I can’t right now. I feel weak.”

  “You’ve been a great mother.” He stroked her hair, his touch soothing the knots of tension in the pit of her stomach. “I’ve been traveling a lot lately. That’s too much on you. It will change.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “I can step down from my position.”

  “No.” He loved his job. More importantly, going back to Montgomery Corporation had given him a chance to work side by side with his father, something she’d always felt had helped re-establish their once-broken father-son relationship. In addition, she had to make him understand this wasn’t about anything he’d done wrong. This was about her.