Christmas was small and quiet this year. Both sets of grandparents decided to stay down south, spending time with their friends. I know they didn’t want everything to be awkward during Christmas, and I’m truly thankful for that. I didn’t put much effort into anything this year, and that’s unusual for me, but I haven’t been feeling it, and the kids understand. They got a few things and money from their dad and me. Heath came over for an early dinner and we FaceTimed Charlie. That was the only part of the holiday that felt normal.
Now it’s back to business as usual.
“Seriously, Jenna, you need to finish getting your stuff together. I have an Uber to catch, or I’m going to miss my flight.”
I’m running around my room and bathroom, trying to gather everything I need last minute before I fly out to New York to meet with the publisher. Caroline has ensured me that this is a great opportunity. Having your work traditionally published when you’re a struggling indie author is like hitting the author lottery. Not every book you write is guaranteed to be published traditionally, but it’s a start in the right direction.
“Mom!” Trevor calls from the living room. “Dad’s here.”
“Hey.” Moments later Heath is pushing his way through my bedroom door. Without hesitation he strides over to me, wrapping his hand around the nape of my neck and placing his lips on the side of my head.
Jenna flops her head so she’s facing Heath. “Hey, Dad.” Her voice is muffled behind my comforter.
He drops his hand from my body and turns towards her. “Hey, buttercup, what’s up?”
“She’s refusing to listen to me. That’s what’s up.” I sit on the bed, bending over to fasten the strap around my ankle.
He stands in a wide stance, arms crossed over his chest. “Jenna? Why aren’t you listening to your mother?”
“Ugh.” She dramatically rolls herself over so she’s now on her back. “You don’t understand,” she groans. “I don’t want to move.”
“Jesus.” I stand and head to the bathroom to grab my makeup. I know the reason why she’s acting like this. Her hormones are driving me up the wall.
“I’m flowing like Niagara Falls. I’m gushing like the Hudson River, and I don’t plan on moving for the next five days.”
“You’re what?” Heath’s eyes widen.
“Geez, Jenna,” I hear Trevor say. “You act like you’re the only one to ever have their period. It’s getting old.”
“You try dealing with it, Trevor,” she bites back. “You wouldn’t be able to handle it month in and month out.”
He laughs. “You’re acting like you’ve been dealing with it for eternity. You don’t see Mom acting like that, and we both know she’s been dealing with all that for decades.”
“Hey!” I shout as I finish loading everything up into my suitcase.
“We’re not talking about your mother or Jenna’s menstrual cycle. What is wrong with you two?” Heath states.
“It’s a natural occurrence, Dad,” Jenna argues.
“All right,” I say as I re-enter the room. “Everyone get out of my room. I need to leave, and you guys need to get out!”
Jenna pulls herself from the bed and begrudgingly stalks from my room. Trevor follows, making faces behind her back the entire way. I pull the handle of my carry on and start to leave the room, when Heath’s hand comes up, stopping me in my tracks.
“Hey, Whit, can you wait a second?” He looks over his shoulder then grabs the door, closing it almost completely.
I swallow. “Yeah, what’s up?”
His forehead creases and his hand hesitates before he reaches into his pocket. “Well, first of all, I wanted to apologize for how I treated you on your birthday.”
“You don’t need to apologize, Heath. I shouldn’t have kept the Liam information from you. I should have been more open when I talked about my neighbor.”
“I trust you, Whitney, and I’m sorry if I implied otherwise. I know you love me because if you didn’t, then we would be walking down a different path right now, but I seem to keep messing up when it comes to us.” He pauses for a second, then pulls his hand from his pocket. “Here.” He pulls out a small box and hands it to me. “I wanted you to have this.”
I let go of my bags, taking the box from his hand. Heath shoves his hands into his pockets, biting the inside of his cheek. I’ve never seen him so vulnerable. In all the years I’ve known him, he’s always had this way about him. Heath has always been certain in his life. Always stood by his convictions, even in the times when I didn’t agree with him, and he’s never wavered in the things that he’s believed in. I’ve always seen him as larger than life. However, over these past few months, I’ve seen a side of him that I wish had been more visible throughout our marriage. He’s more apologetic, maybe more exposed in his insecurities, and right now Heath looks like a small boy waiting for some sort of acceptance.
I open the box with shaky, uncertain hands. Pulling the lid, it opens stiffly. In the white, leather cushion sits two, deep-red studded earrings. “They’re garnets,” he says.
“They’re beautiful,” I whisper as my finger runs over the hard gemstone.
“They’re supposed to be for luck. Um, I wanted you to have something. Not that I think you need it, but because I wanted you to have something from me while you’re in New York.”
“Why?” I take my eyes from the earrings to look at Heath.
“Because I’m damn proud of you. Because you deserve everything your heart desires, Whitney. I will always love the hell out of you.”
Before I can say anything, his hand wraps around the nape of my neck, and gives me a chaste kiss. The warmth of his lips mine brings a sense of calm to wash over my semi-frazzled state. He pulls away, grabbing the door and exits my room.
“Let’s go, you two,” he yells for the kids while I stand frozen in the spot, completely caught off guard by the warm and thoughtful gift.