Chapter Seventeen

Rue

Dear Baby,

Please don’t scare me like that again. We’re only a few weeks in and I don’t think I’ll make it through if it’s going to be like last night all the way along. Now that you are settled in, please behave. Your daddy can’t take any more. Be a good baby.

Rue

****

It was the shortest letter that I had written to the baby so far, but I felt that it needed to be done. I folded the piece of paper and tucked it back into my purse along with my pen and made my way to the bathroom attached to the bedroom. Hannah had brought me my clothes, freshly cleaned and neatly folded, and told me to enjoy a bath before coming out. I was happy to take the invitation, but I had a moment of disappointment at the thought of taking off Richard’s clothes. I had slept curled up in them and woke with the lingering feeling that he was holding me in his arms. It wasn’t something that I should be feeling, and certainly something I couldn’t admit, but now that I had to give it up I was reluctant.

Finally, I relented and savored a long, soothing bath before dressing in my own clothes. I wished that I had some makeup with me, but I had to make do with running the travel brush I kept in my purse through my hair and sweeping powder over my skin. I dabbed on some lip balm and checked the mirror. The result was looking even paler than I figured I already did, but there was really nothing that I could do about it.

I was already ready and heading out of the room when I realized that I had no idea what I was supposed to do. I didn’t even know if Richard was still at the house or if he had gone to work. The last thing I wanted to do was run into Flora without anyone around to buffer our encounter. Was I supposed to have breakfast? Was I supposed to hang out and wait for Richard to come back? Was I supposed to just find Abraham and have him bring me home without saying anything?

Most confusing walk of shame ever.

Fortunately, I had only gotten a few steps away from the bedroom when Hannah rushed up the hallway toward me. She never seemed to slow down. Maybe that’s what kept her so youthful and energetic. She kept moving so fast that aging couldn’t catch up with her.

“Good morning!” she gushed. “You look refreshed.”

“Is it still morning?” I asked, impressed that I had only slept a few hours.

“No,” Hannah said, shaking her head without her smile fading. “It’s almost three.”

“Good gracious,” I said. “I seem like a total slug.”

“You don’t seem like a slug,” Hannah said. “You seem like a woman who’s going through her first trimester of pregnancy. Growing babies is hard, and you need your rest.”

It was the same sentiment that she had expressed early that morning and it was even more reassuring now.

“Thank you,” I said.

“I have breakfast waiting for you downstairs and Richard says that he will be down to join you in just a few minutes.”

“He’s still here?” I asked.

My voice must have revealed a little more of the excitement that I was feeling than I intended because I saw the smile on Hannah’s lips change slightly and a knowing look in her eyes.

“He is,” she said. “Just go on downstairs. Breakfast is in the lounge.” She started away but then looked over her shoulder at me. “Come to think of it, I’ve never known Richard to take a day off just to spend at home.”

She walked the rest of the way down the hall, leaving me with that thought in my mind. I started down the stairs and let the smell of bacon and pancakes guide me through the lower floor of the house and into the lounge where I found a table spread with enough food for at least five people. I stepped in and the rest of the table came into view, revealing Richard sitting in one of the chairs, reading a newspaper.

They still make those?

“Good morning,” I said as I walked in.

“Kind of,” Richard said.

“Kind of good?”

“No, kind of morning.”

I laughed and sat down across from him.

“Actually, not at all morning,” I said.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked.

“Probably far too well,” I said.

“How can you sleep too well?”

I concentrated on filling a plate with food, not meeting his eyes. I didn’t want to confess how wonderful it felt to be wearing his clothing or to be curled up in his house. I ate for a few moments and then noticed that he hadn’t eaten anything.

“Not hungry?” I asked.

“I’ve already eaten breakfast,” he said. “And lunch. And a snack, for that matter.”

I laughed again.

“Perfect.” I took a sip of orange juice and then cocked my head to look at him. “Why did you stay home from work today?” I asked.

“You,” he said.

“I’m sure I could have made my way home myself,” I said. “You didn’t have to take the day off just to wait around for me.”

“I didn’t,” he said. “I wanted to make sure that you were alright, and to spend some time with you.”

“You did?” I asked.

Richard nodded.

“Are you finished?”

I looked down at my plate and the remnants of what had once been the huge pile of food. I nodded.

“Yes.”

“I want to show you something.”

I followed him out of the lounge and back upstairs. Rather than turning in the direction of the room where I had slept, we continued on and climbed another set of steps until we ended up in another hallway. To one side I saw what I assumed was the master bedroom, but he guided me in the other. We reached a closed door and Richard took a key from his pocket. He unlocked the door and opened it. I stepped inside and gasped.

“What is this?” I asked, looking around.

The room around me was completely decorated for Christmas. Garlands stretched elegantly across the mantle of a fireplace and along the tops of windows. Lights glittered from every surface. A massive tree sat in one corner, meticulously wrapped gifts piled underneath. Even the air in the room smelled like pine and peppermint like it was being piped in from somewhere.

“This is my Christmas room,” he said, looking around with a smile on his lips. “I put it together every year right around Thanksgiving.”

“But why is it up here?” I asked, walking closer to a small table set beside a couch to look at an intricate crystal carousel. “Why do you keep it locked?”

“Flora doesn’t particularly like Christmas,” he said. “She doesn’t like the house getting changed and the effort of decorating, or the mess. On Christmas Eve she puts up a small silver tabletop tree, we exchange gifts, and then it’s over. But I love Christmas. It reminds me of when I was little and my whole family would get together. So, I started doing this every year. It’s kind of a chance for me to have the Christmas that I want, without disrupting anyone else.”

“This is your house,” I said. “You shouldn’t feel like you’re disrupting someone just because you want something that they don’t. Especially when it’s something like Christmas.” I looked around and sighed. “I love Christmas. At least I used to. It’s been a while since I’ve really done one like we did when I was a little girl.”

He smiled around the room again and then looked at me.

“Do you want to stay for a little longer, or are you ready to go home?”

I wanted to stay. I wanted to never leave. But him putting it that way illustrated just how much I couldn’t.

“I should go home,” I said. “There’s a lot that I need to do.”

“Like what?” Richard asked.

“Just…. just a lot.”

He nodded, but I couldn’t tell what emotion was in his eyes. We walked out of the room and he locked it behind him, hiding the beautiful, festive scene like he was locking away a private part of him for no one else to see.

The ride back to Whiskey Hollow felt long, but I enjoyed every moment of it, though we were in silence for most of it. It was nice just being there in the backseat with Richard. He spent most of the ride looking ahead of him or at me, but as we approached Grammyma’s house, I saw his focus turn to the window beside me. Something shimmered on his face and I turned to follow his gaze. My hand flew up to cover my mouth, muffling my gasp.

Beyond the window I saw Grammyma’s house, fully decked out for Christmas. Strands of lights dripped from every surface, potted trees flanked the door and lights that looked like icicles outlined a walkway from the parking area to the porch. I climbed out and took it all in, then turned to look at Richard. He grinned at me as he climbed out of the car and followed me.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“Like it?” I asked. “It’s incredible. I can’t believe it.”

“I hoped you would. I sent my team out here this morning.”

“Is that why you showed me your Christmas room?” I asked. “To make sure that I wasn’t some sort of Grinch?”

“I would have gone with Scrooge, but yes, that’s the general idea.”

“Ah,” I said with a smile. “Of course, you would.” I looked at the house and then turned back to him. “Is there more?”

Richard shrugged.

“Maybe.”

I giggled and ran up the steps toward the front door. It opened beneath my hand and I stepped inside to a winter wonderland. I glanced out at him and he laughed.

“No locks.”

I grinned and went back in the house. Every room had been decorated, each corner featuring another detail. The kitchen smelled of warm cinnamon, the hallway of peppermint, and the living room of pine, the smell wafting from the broad boughs of a tree in the corner. It was the only thing that I saw that wasn’t decorated.

“I thought that we could decorate it together,” he said.

I felt like a little girl again as we unpacked boxes of ornaments and nestled them into the tree. A crate sitting on the floor beside the couch caught my eye. I remembered it from years before. I walked up to it and touched my fingertips to the lid.

“This was my Grammyma’s,” I whispered.

“I hoped you wouldn’t mind,” Richard said. “My crew found it in the closet when they were hanging up their coats and guessed that it had decorations in it.”

I nodded.

“It does,” I told him. “Heirlooms.”

I opened the crate and touched the generations-old ornaments nested down in scraps of old paper. Around me it felt like Grammyma and my father were there with me again. Richard and I carefully took each out of the crate and I shared my memories of them with him, regaling him with tales of my childhood Christmases. I knew that they were nothing like the holidays that he must have had, especially considering it was always just the three of us, but they were everything to me. We laughed together, and he sat quietly with me, his hand rubbing my back gently as I cried. When I was finished, I felt strangely refreshed.

“The last one,” Richard said, carefully taking the tin star that had been passed down from Grammyma’s grandfather out of the crate.

“You put it on,” I said.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

I nodded, and he reached up, settling the star into place on the top bough.

“It looks beautiful,” I said when the final touch had been added. “Oh! I can’t believe I forgot.”

I went to where I had placed my purse and reached inside, moving the letter to the baby aside so I could reach the envelope toward the bottom. Opening the envelope, I slipped out the short row of images and brought them to Richard.

“The doctor gave me these before he discharged me,” I said. “I thought that you might want them.”

Richard took the sonogram pictures from my hand and looked down at them. His eyes filled the same way that they had when he looked at the screen the night before. He looked up at me and suddenly the space between us closed. His arms reached out for me, but before they wrapped around me, he took a step back as realization of his actions caught him off guard.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have….” He took another step back from me, shaking his head. “I’m sorry.”

He rushed out of the house, grabbing his coat as he went. Outside I heard a car door slam and realized that Abraham had been sitting outside waiting this entire time. I had completely forgotten him. Guilt rushed through me and I knew that it wasn’t just pushing the driver out of my mind that was causing the feeling curdling in my stomach.