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I helped Henry decorate the tree at the shelter, too. The kids pitched in, hanging the snowflake ornaments we made out of construction paper and glitter.
Dean received an early Christmas gift. He’d filled out an application at a nearby restaurant and they’d hired him two weeks ago. Reading the orders the waitresses thrust at him wasn’t a problem anymore, and he turned the food around fast, quickly earning himself a reputation as a hard worker. He used his first paycheck to put down a deposit on a furnished apartment. I co-signed the lease, paying the first year’s rent up front. He didn’t want to accept it, but I convinced him to, for Leo’s sake. “Pay it forward someday, Dean.”
“I will,” he promised, hugging me. “Thank you, A
I spent Christmas Eve with David, Sarah, and the kids. We watched Joe and Chloe open their gifts, wrapping paper flying, and spent the next hour assembling toys and installing batteries. David played so many video games on the PlayStation I bought for Joe that Sarah threatened to unplug it.
“What is it about video games that turn men back into boys?” she asked.
“I don’t know, but they all love ’em, don’t they?”
Chloe strummed her Barbie guitar, loudly, and after an hour of listening to it, I made a mental note not to buy her any more instruments. I wandered into the kitchen where it was quiet and uncorked a bottle of cabernet.
Sarah joined me a minute later. She opened the oven and checked the turkey. I poured her some wine, and we clinked our glasses together.
“To having you home to celebrate with,” Sarah said. “I remember last Christmas, how hard it was without you, and Mom and Dad. Even with David and the kids I still felt a little bit alone. Then two days later you called. Sometimes I still can’t believe it, A
I hugged her back. “Merry Christmas, Sarah.”
“Merry Christmas.”
I went to the shelter at noon on Christmas Day, bearing gifts for the kids: hand-held video games for the boys, lip gloss and costume jewelry for the girls, and stuffed animals and books for the younger kids. The babies received soft fleece blankets, diapers, and formula. Henry dressed up like Santa Claus to pass everything out. I fastened reindeer antlers to Bo’s head and tied jingle bells to his collar. He barely tolerated it.
I was reading Frosty the Snowman to a lapful of kids when Henry walked over holding an envelope. When I finished the book, I sent the kids off to play.
“Someone made an anonymous donation a couple days ago,” Henry said. He opened the envelope and showed me a cashier’s check made out for a substantial amount. “I wonder why someone would do that and not give me the opportunity to thank them,” he said.
I shrugged and handed the check back to him. “I don’t know. Maybe they didn’t want anyone to make a big deal out of it.”
That’s why.
Bo and I walked home after I helped serve Christmas di
T.J. stood on the sidewalk in front of my apartment. When Bo reached him, he bent down and scratched him behind the ears, looping his hand through the end of the leash. I approached, holding my breath, propelled forward by sheer longing.
He stood up and met me halfway.
“I’ve thought about you all day,” he said. “On the island, I promised that if you just held on we would spend this Christmas together, in Chicago. I will always keep my promises to you, A
I looked into his eyes and burst into tears. He opened his arms and I fell into them, crying so hard I couldn’t speak.
“Shhh, it’s okay,” he said. I buried my face in his chest, breathing in the smell of snow, of wool, of him, as he held me tight. A few minutes later, he put his hand under my chin and lifted it. He wiped my tears, as he had so many times before.
“You were right. I did need to be on my own. But some of the things you wanted me to experience already passed me by, and I can’t go back. I know what I want and it’s you, A
“I don’t fit in your world.”
“Neither do I,” he said, his expression tender yet resolute. “So let’s make our own. We’ve done it before.”
I heard my mom’s voice in my head, almost as if she was standing beside me whispering in my ear. The same question she told me to ask myself about John.
Is your life better with him, A
I decided, right then, standing on that sidewalk, to stop worrying about things that might never go wrong.
”I love you, T.J. I want you to come back.”
He held me tight and my tears flowed until his sweater was wet. I lifted my head off his chest. “I must cry more than anyone you know,” I said.
He brushed the hair back from my face and smiled. “You puke a lot, too.”
I laughed through my tears. His lips brushed mine and we stood on the sidewalk kissing, covered in snowflakes, while Bo waited patiently at our feet.
We went inside and talked for hours, lying on a blanket in front of the Christmas tree.
“I never wanted anyone else, T.J. I just wanted what was best for you.”
“You are what’s best for me,” he said, cradling my head in his arms, his legs intertwined with mine. “I’m not going anywhere, A
Chapter 66 – T.J.
I glanced at the clock one morning two weeks later. I was still on winter break from school and A
“I have to go out for a while and then there’s something I want to show you,” I said. “What time will you be home from the shelter?”
“I should be back by three o’clock. What is it?” she asked, setting down the newspaper.
I put on my coat and grabbed my gloves. “You’ll see.”
Later that afternoon, I parked in front of A
“Are you a good driver?” she asked, when I slid behind the wheel.
I laughed. “I’m an excellent driver.”
We headed out of the city, A
I made a left off the highway and drove along the gravel road. I turned again, glad I had four-wheel drive because five inches of snow covered the driveway. Pulling up in front of a small, light blue house, I parked in front of the garage and turned off the engine.
“Come on,” I said.
“Who lives here?”
I didn’t answer her. When we got to the front door, I pulled a key out of my pocket and unlocked it.
“This is yours?” A
“I bought it two months ago and closed on it today.” She walked in and I followed her, switching on lights. “The previous owners built it new in the eighties. I don’t think they ever changed a thing,” I said, laughing. “This blue carpeting blows.”
A
“It’s perfect, T.J. All it needs is a little updating.”
“Then I hope you won’t be too disappointed when I tear it down.”
“What? Why would you tear it down?”
“Come here,” I said, leading her to a window in the kitchen that looked out into the back yard. “What do you see out there?”
“Land,” she said.
“When I would take long drives, I’d pass this place and one day I pulled in and looked around. I knew right then I wanted to buy it, to have land of my own. I want to build a new house here, A