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

by Jolie, Mika

  Jason picked up the red blanket and threw it across the room. It landed on the couch by the window. Slowly, he sauntered to the Chesterfield coco-leather and sat. He shifted his weight, dug one hand into the corner of his seat, and pulled out two wrinkled blue onesies. After a brief examination, he rolled it into a ball and threw it in the same direction he’d thrown the blanket. Only this time, the baby clothes landed right smack on the floor by the fireplace. Well, at least it wasn’t lit.

  Feeling her walls closing in on her, she inhaled sharply. Peyton had suggested taking five deep breaths as a way to regain her composure. At the moment, she couldn’t remember the exact words, but it was something about focusing on the simplest, shortest, and most restorative activities available to us: our breath.

  Breathe in. Pause. Breathe out. Pause. Repeat five times.

  “I made room for you.” He patted the empty spot next to him. “How did it go?” he asked as she sat by his side.

  Look at that, there was some validity to the breathing technique. It seemed to have zapped the building stress. “Well, to start, Doctor Edwards looks nothing like I’d imagined.”

  Jason smiled. “What did you imagine?”

  Minka chuckled over her initial mental image of Peyton. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe not drop-dead gorgeous.”

  “That bothered you?”

  “Not at all. Just surprised. I guess I always pictured Edna Mode as Adam’s therapist.”

  “The character from The Incredibles.” It wasn’t a question, but she nodded anyway, feeling a little silly as she revealed this. They’d watched the popular Disney-PIXAR movie a few times. One of her guilty pleasures she’d managed to suck Jason into watching. It was only fair since he’d gotten her to do a few things she never thought she’d do or say in her lifetime. Not that she’d been a prude, but it took a while for her to feel comfortable talking dirty, saying things like—fuck, cock, yes, I love what you’re doing, don’t stop.

  Her face burning with embarrassment, she turned her focus to the view outside the window, where a slow majestic ballet of snowflakes continued drifting down.

  Jason laughed, snapping her back to their conversation. “Peyton is an old friend of Forrest’s. He was the one who suggested her to Adam.”

  “You know her?”

  “I do through Forrest, but not the way you’re thinking.” He shifted his body so that they faced each other. “They went to school together. She moved to Falmouth a little over a year ago, just about the time when Adam was dealing with everything.”

  “She was nice.”

  “She is. How did it go?”

  The initial assessment had been engaging, a team effort between her and Peyton. At the end of the one-hour session, she left the office feeling ready to start again and excited about moving toward the first step to healing.

  “It was good,” she answered. “It might run a little longer than I initially planned.”

  “What do we need to work on?”

  “Not we.” His tenderness warmed her heart. It was nice to know he’d always have her back—the same way she’d always have his. They were a team. Forever.

  However, in this instance, she needed to face this hurdle alone. The one person who could make her feel better was her. “Well, mostly it needs to be me. I’m not a quick fix, more so a process. I have some deep-rooted issues I need to address.”

  “Such as?” he asked, his tone filled with patience.

  “There are those feelings I carried for so long toward Keely and my parents.”

  “I thought that was over and done with?”

  “I’m fine now, but I’d like to get to the root of them.” She shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe they play a role in my craziness now, like my need to be a perfect mother. My mother is perfect.”

  “No one is perfect, and you’re not crazy.”

  Okay, maybe crazy was too strong of a word. Perhaps just a little unhinged.

  “Did you know that one day, I left the twins’ bottles on the counter, and I freaked out?”

  “Not a big deal. You’re still breastfeeding them.”

  That day she hadn’t been able to see that. Her emotions had been so mixed-up with thoughts of the twins demanding to be fed.

  “Oh, there’s the day, I left the house with my sweater backward.” She let out a little chuckle thinking back on the situation. “I sat in the car and cried because I was consumed by the feeling that I’d failed.” Even admitting the incident made her sound distraught. “Another time, I went shopping with the twins and realized my car keys were missing.” That one topped all the others. With two babies bellowing in agony while she searched frantically for her keys, she’d almost lost it and punched a clerk.

  “Why didn’t you share these things with me before?”

  “They didn’t seem important.” Peyton had advised her to communicate and discuss everything she was feeling with Jason, and to also be open to the idea of hiring full-time help, as he’d suggested. “You have a point about hiring someone. I can use the help.” She pushed a wayward curl away from her face. “Any chance you can slow down on the traveling? I mean, I know it’s work and—”

  “Yes,” Jason answered before she could finish. “I already canceled a few trips. Blake and Dad will go. I’ll join virtually if I’m needed.”

  Minka’s heart squeezed. Yeah, she had totally won the lottery when it came to her husband.

  “We can start screening people together after Christmas,” Jason suggested.

  “I’ve scheduled a few more sessions with Peyton until Christmas Eve.”

  He nodded, seeming pleased. “We’ll work around your appointments. Speaking of Christmas, we still don’t have a tree.” He peeked at the Rolex on his wrist. “We could drive to Herring Creek.”

  Christmas was only nine days away. Typically, they’d have the whole house decorated, gifts under the tree, and A Christmas Gift for You From Phil Spector or A Motown Christmas playing in the background. That is, until the twins swept through the house like a whirlwind, upending their lives. But hey, they were first time parents, a few months of insanity were allowed.

  “Do they have any left?”

  “I called earlier, and Marjorie said they have a few left. Do you want to drive there and pick out a tree? It may not be the prettiest.”

  It didn’t matter. As Jason said a few days ago, it could be the Charlie Brown Christmas tree for all she cared. Celebrating Christmas meant so much more than the commercialized version of what the holiday had become. Choosing the Christmas tree was a childhood tradition both she and Jason shared and were committed to carry on with their family.

  “I’d love to.”

  “Let’s go.” He rose to his feet and extended his hand to her.

  “Jason.” She gave him her hand. “You should probably change your shirt.”

  He looked at her with a puzzled frown on his forehead. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? I like this shirt.”

  She did as well, especially the way the sleeves hugged his biceps. “There’s dry spit up on one of your shoulders. One of the twins must have burped on you.”

  “I guess I should take it off then.”

  “You should.”

  With one swift movement, he stripped his shirt. Her eyes, like two iron filings lured by a magnet, instantly went to his chest. Muscles bunched and rippled. Heat seared through her and desire pooled low in her belly, catching her off guard.

  “You look flushed,” Jason noted. “Are you okay?”

  “Um…” Her hands went to her cheeks. They were surprisingly warm. “No. I mean, yes. I’m fine.” She cleared her throat. “It’s a little hot in here.”

  His blue eyes sparkled with mischief. She was checking him out, and he’d totally caught her. So what? He was her husband. They had that ‘for better or for worse, ‘til death do us part’ bit ingrained in their hearts. That gave her carte blanche to scope him out whenever she felt like it.

  “So your rise in temperature has nothing
to do with me standing here with my shirt off.”

  His tone was seductively playful, and Minka couldn’t help smiling. Lack of self-confidence had never been part of his vocabulary. Their gazes collided and held. Beneath the cool, laid-back exterior, there was also affection shining from his eyes, and so much more. Love.

  A powerful need slashed through her—a need to feel his lips, his touch, and that delirious moment when sanity ceased and their bodies exploded into bliss.

  “You told me to take off my shirt, but this is not an invitation to touch, Mrs. Montgomery.” Jason closed the distance between them and pressed a butterfly kiss on her lips.

  Even before the kiss, her body buzzed with anticipation. Her lips parted, ready to grant him access. Just as quickly, he started pulling back, but her hands, moving of their own accord, gripped the waist of his jeans and held on like he was her lifeline.

  “You’re killing me,” he murmured and pressed his forehead against hers before putting some distance between them. She knew what he was doing. He was giving her time to heal and make sure she wanted the physical aspect of their relationship.

  “Jason.”

  “Minka, I can wait.”

  “The twins are sleeping.”

  “You want this?” he asked in a deep and throaty voice.

  Stop or go. She knew he’d do whatever she wanted. “More than anything.”

  He raised a brow in a silent You sure?

  And because he was so caring, so patient, and strong enough to help her bear whatever burden she’d face, she suddenly became very, very sure. To show him how just how much, she hooked a hand around his neck and brought his face down to hers. “I want.”

  “Me.”

  “You. Us.”

  Undefined emotions flickered over his features. Her heart fluttered inside her chest. Without uttering a word, he moved his right hand up to the nape of her neck and seized her mouth once again with his own. This time, the kiss changed—it was deeper and passionate with heartbreaking tenderness. And like a drug, she craved more and more.

  His arms encircled her waist, drawing her tight against him, letting her feel his arousal. Her body, warm and tingly, molded to his. The kiss deepened. Their breaths mingled. Passion—dormant inside her for the last few months—exploded, came to life, and took over. Her hands groped his chest, moving maniacally down to his stomach. His muscles contracted at her touch, and she heard the soft hiss of his indrawn breath.

  “Fuck.”

  “Yes,” she pleaded between ragged breaths.

  He grabbed her shoulders and held her still. Puzzled, she searched his features. He looked as tortured as she felt. “We have two crying babies.” He motioned to the monitor.

  Oh, right…babies, the biggest mood-killer ever. Spontaneity jumped out the window and scampered away.

  “I’ll get them,” she said, already moving forward.

  He caught her wrist. “Together, Minka. Let’s do this together. We’re a team.”

  “I know.” Work in progress, she reminded herself.

  “Good. Glad to hear that. Although, I must admit, they couldn’t have picked a worse time to wake up.”

  She laughed. “We’ll have to improvise.”

  “I thought that was improvising. Anyhow, it’s probably a good thing since the snow is picking up. We should grab the tree before Marjorie closes the barn for the day.”

  About two hours later, they returned home. On the front door, they hung a wreath wrapped in a red bow, so that every time they came home, it was the first thing they’d see. Christmas by Michael Bublé played in the background as they decorated the tree.

  Once done, she stepped back and inhaled. The smell of pine and snow tickled her nose. It was hard to be unmoved by that. “What do you think of the tree?”

  As expected, they hadn’t gotten the best one. Some of the branches were a little sparse, with holes here and there. It had flaws, like their relationship, like her. But it was beautiful, solid, and imperfectly perfect. Like them.

  Jason’s arm snaked around her waist, tugging her against him. “I love it.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Christmas is all about getting your entire dysfunctional family under one roof, hoping the cops don’t get called and praying that nobody gets arrested.”

  Anonymous

  Two days until Christmas

  Minka’s eyes darted down the court while trying to keep up with the pace of the game—the fast breaks, the posting, the give and go, the physical fierceness and the intensity between the Wolf Pack, Tyler, and the Serrano brothers. Sweat trickled down their faces as muscles shifted and flexed under soaked T-shirts. The ball dribbled down the court, making a rhythmic thump-thump sound that was both exciting and exhausting.

  Instead of being irritated or anxious, she found herself smiling and enjoying the view. Even the fact that her cell phone was back home sitting on the coffee table didn’t bother her. Last week, that thought would have sent her into a near panic attack. Peyton had advised switching off for a bit would benefit her greatly, and she had to agree. For the first time in a long time, her body and mind were relaxed.

  “Can they do this every three months?” Claire asked no one in particular. Her gaze fixed on the testosterone-fueled, half-court battle. “Look at them.”

  “It’s rather beautiful to watch,” Keely agreed. “It’s like…art in motion.”

  “Puh-lease!” Lily interjected. “Three of those immature, overly-competitive egos are my brothers. There’s nothing sexy about them. I’m being robbed.”

  “And one is your husband,” Minka pointed out just as Adam scooped up the basketball. With Rafa in his face, he managed to inbound the ball to Forrest, who quickly broke for a two-on-one drive downcourt.

  “Step up, or step off, Rafa?” Forrest hollered as he dribbled to the foul line.

  Lily scooted forward, her eyes on Adam. “He is dreamy, isn’t he? I get to do him every night. He’s so lucky.”

  Minka’s gaze followed Jason, who was guarding Max. In three counseling sessions, progress, however small, was been made. The tension had dissipated. They were laughing more, slowly reestablishing the dynamic in their strained relationship, but one major problem loomed over them. Since their last make-out session three days ago, Jason had not attempted to touch her. Her heart twisted with a twinge of concern and a touch of regret.

  “Every night?” Minka asked and glanced over at her friend, sure her ears had deceived her.

  “Well, not every night.” Lily wrinkled her nose. “But quite a few times.”

  “You and Adam make Blake and I look like an old boring married couple,” Keely said with a smile.

  “Hey, sex between life partners is healthy,” Lily responded. “It bonds them, creates joy, and relieves stress, right Minka?”

  “Right,” Minka whispered back. She wouldn’t know about that lately. So much gained in the span of two years, yet so much that would never be the same.

  “Come on, Doc.” Blake called to Forrest, drawing Minka’s attention back to the court. “Let’s do it.”

  Forrest backed away and tossed a high, arching pass toward the rim. Zander jumped, hoping to tip the ball. From the left Blake flew through the air and snatched the ball. With his athleticism and vertical leap on full display, he threw down a monster two-handed dunk that shook the backboard with authority.

  Blake pointed at Zander while pounding his chest. “In your face!”

  “Damn, you had his balls on your chin,” Jason said, grinning from ear to ear.

  The Wolf Pack bumped fists. The score tied with less than five minutes left. As Max walked over, he slammed his elbow against Jason’s chest with crushing force. A pang of horror shot through Minka.

  Jason’s shoulder jerked back as if a bullet struck it. He slowed his steps, and then shoved Max with an open palm, making him stagger back. “Watch it, asshole. I’m not married to your sister. I can kick your ass.”

  Max scoffed, clearly not affected by Jas
on’s threat.

  “Hit my friend again, and you’ll say goodbye to your pretty face,” Adam warned.

  “Fuck off!” Maximus, the youngest of the Serrano brothers, said directly to Adam. “We still don’t like you.”

  To emphasize Max’s words, the brothers’ and Tyler’s arms went up. Protruding from every fist was a middle finger, which they held up for a good two seconds.

  Adam blew them an air kiss as he rolled the ball over to Tyler. “Here ladies, game’s tied.”

  Minka continued to watch from a distance. Other than the ultimate trash talking and the ball bouncing off the wooden floor, the gymnasium was dead quiet. Her thoughts drifted to the early days of their relationship, when most of their time was spent naked. Their life had been a series of natural and spontaneous adventures—a final slice of her old life now gone and replaced by planning. She rolled her shoulders and took a deep breath. Adjust, they’d have to adjust.

  Tyler tossed the ball inbound to Zander, who dribbled down the court, eyes scanning for an open man. He passed it to Max, who hit a fadeaway jumper just short of the rim. Zander cut under the net and snatched the rebound, posted up, and kicked the ball back to Rafa behind the three-point line. In perfect NBA shooting guard form, Rafa released a high-arching jump shot and hollered, “Nothing but net.”

  Swish!

  The Serrano brothers took a one-point lead.

  “Take notes, pretty boys, Steph Curry in da house” Rafa said over his shoulder, already in defensive mode.

  “Shouldn’t you be referencing Melo? Oh wait, the Knicks suck just like your sorry asses.” Jason dribbled the ball through his legs with a cocky smirk of confidence on his face. He looked quickly in her direction and threw her a slanted grin, the wickedness in his eyes sending heat coursing through her veins. Her heart picked up pace, doubling in tempo with the rhythm of the ball. A sweet ache trembled inside her with longing.

  She wanted her husband but in addition to the fact that he showed no interest to go there, their house had become a revolving door of visitors—her parents, Charles, Marjorie, and Adam’s and Lily’s parents. Someone was always knocking on their doors—not to see them, of course, but for the babies. By the time she finally lay in Jason’s arms, the touch of his skin on hers always brought her comfort, and she’d zonked out. He never woke her as he’d done in the past. Instead, he simply let her sleep.