New Year (6 page)

“Maybe you need to stop feeling like you have to prove something to them.”

“I know.”

We lay
facing each other with our cheeks pressed against the bumpy quilt. Snow pelted the windowpane, leaving a skim of white on the glass. It was good to rest there in silence.

After a while, w
e chatted about inconsequential things—amusing Baby incidents, the office Christmas party, our families’ Christmas traditions. What we didn’t mention was Jason’s proposal. I had a right to ask for time to consider, but once an offer like that is made, it whispers underneath every other conversation.

“Guess we should
go to bed,” Jason said after a while.

I was too comfortable to move, every limb boneless and my head still slushy from the martinis. I reached out to brush back a lock of his dark hair
from his eyes. “Thanks for coming here with me.”

“No place I’d rather be for
the holidays.” He gave me one of those quirky lopsided smiles I’d come to love so much.

E
motion rushed through me, shaking me like the wind rattling the bare branches outside the window. “I love you,” I whispered.

“Lo
ve you too.” He slid closer and kissed me, a soft brush of the lips that unfurled a deep, burning heat. I curled a hand around the back of his neck and kissed him harder, deeper. I pressed my body full length against his, suddenly so full of desire I wanted to have him right then.

But Jason gently disengag
ed from my fierce embrace. “Not here. It feels weird in your parents’ house. And your cousins are right next door.”

The hum of Chloe
’s and Worthy’s voices came through the wall. Of course he was right. I wasn’t used to Jason being the sensible one.

I got
up to change out of my clothes, then slid into bed and Jason’s arms for a good snuggle. I was so warm and happy and filled with the joyful spirit of Christmas that I nearly wanted to accept his proposal, tell him I would love him forever, and commit to the future.

Instead
, I drifted into sleep, and the possible moment of spontaneity passed.

Chapter Five

Jason

Shouting voices and running feet pounded through my sleep, dragging me into a new morning filled with harsh white light. I was alone in bed. Anna’s side was cold beneath my palm. She’d been up for a while.

I
got up to look out the window. Overnight the yard had been transformed. The sun reflected off diamond-studded snow, making me squint. I felt the low-grade buzz of excitement that comes with a fresh snowfall, probably a throwback to the childhood hope for a day off from school. I wanted to run outside and roll in it, find a sled and whoosh down a hill.

Below,
Anna and Baby came into view. Anna threw a ball, and the terrier bounded through the snow after it, burrowing through a drift and coming up with a white muzzle and the ball clenched in her teeth. Anna reached to take the ball, but Baby sped away. Anna laughed. I could almost hear the sound from this distance, not through the pane of glass but in my mind.

Her cheeks were
pink with cold. She wore a bright red parka with a hood that framed her face in fur. The puffy coat made her look small, childlike. The simple pleasure of playing with Baby had put a smile on her face. No more tension or worry. I loved to see her happy like that.

She glanced up at the window and waved
at me, then beckoned me to come down. I hurried to get cleaned up and dressed. It was so far past breakfast, there was no way I was going to ask for anything, even though I was starving. Dressed in my boots and coat, I went outside into the crunchy snow.

The little boys with the weird names
were throwing the ball for Baby. When they saw me, they stopped to scoop up snowballs. The little one with the name that sounded like underwear planted one square in the center of my chest.

I pretended to stagger backward as if shot, and called,
“Good aim!”

I packed
a snowball lightly and tossed it without much force at the nearest kid. Soon wads of snow flew back and forth. Anna joined in, backing me up. The boys shrieked and laughed and dodged around trees and behind bushes. Baby was crazy with excitement, barking and racing after them.

But, as they say, it’s all fun and games until somebody pokes an eye out. Our battle lasted
maybe two minutes before the older boy hurled a snowball as hard as he could, Anna ducked, and it nailed the little one in the face. Haynes wailed as if he’d been hit by a two-by-four and collapsed on the ground. Baby ran over to sniff at him.

I fished
the kid out of a drift and peeled away mittened hands in order to check out the damage. His face was bright red, but nothing was bleeding. “You’ll be okay. Fighters get hit sometimes, and they have to shake it off. You ever watch wrestling?”

He nodded, scrubbing the tears from his eyes.

“Who’s your favorite?”

“
The Tower of Terror.” His little voice was wobbly, but he’d stopped crying.

Anna
joined us and squatted beside me. “Everything okay?”

“Sure. Haynes is a real
trouper.” I helped him to his feet.

The older boy was skulking nearby, breaking the ice in a bird bath and pretending he hadn’t had anything to do with the incident.

“Hey, Gully,” Anna called, “why don’t you come over and tell your brother you’re sorry.”

He cru
nched another shard of ice. “It was an accident. I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Nobody said you did, but it’s polite to say you’re sorry
.” When he continued to sullenly scowl, she said warningly, “Gulliver…”

“Sorry,” he muttered.

The front door opened, and Cousin Chloe stepped outside. “What happened?” she called. “Is everything okay?”

Anna
rose and yelled back, “It’s all right. Haynes got hit in the face with a snowball, but he’s okay.”

Chloe nodded. “
Thanks for playing with them, getting some of their energy out. But, boys, you need to come in now. We’re going to meet Grandma and Grandpa for lunch.”

“I don’t wanna. We’re having fun,” Gulliver whined.

“Yeah.” Haynes backed him up.

“We’re going to Holiday Wonderland
and see Santa,” their mom coaxed.

Both boys evaporated like smoke, racing away and
kicking up a powder of snow in their wake. I grabbed Baby’s trailing leash before she could run into the house along with them. She reached the end and jerked to a stop.

I
nudged Anna with an elbow. “Santa. You want to go sit on the big man’s lap too?”

She punched me in the arm. “Don’t make dirty jokes. Santa’s sacred.”

“I didn’t say anything. It’s just your filthy mind.” I scooped up some snow and threw it at her.

She retaliated
, and we were off again, running and playing like kids.

Anna tackled me to the ground and scrubbed a handful of snow into my face.

I flipped her onto her back and pinned her. “Say uncle. No. Say ‘Santa’s my daddy.’”

She squirmed and fought and laughed until she was breathless, but finally gasped out a weak, “Uncle!
You perv.”

S
atisfied, I grinned and let her up. Her hood had fallen back, and her hair was matted with snow. She brushed it with her fingers while I lay beside her, making a snow angel.

“Your angel looks like a devil
,” Anna said.

I
sat up and looked, and sure enough, there were two lumpy spots like horns on my angel’s head.

“So, what’s
on for today?” I asked.

“
The cousins are spending the day with Aunt Patty and Uncle Jack, who just got into town. Then they’ll all come here for Christmas Eve dinner. This afternoon, it’s just you and me and my parents. Maybe we can watch a movie to fill the time.”

“S
ounds good. Hey, you were good with the kid,” I said. “Got him to man up and apologize without making a big thing of it.”

I
thought how like a mother she’d sounded when she’d made Gulliver’s name a warning. Did Anna even want to have kids? Did I? Would I make a good dad?

Anna clapped her gloves together to break up the clots of snow.
“And you got Haynes calmed down right away, distracting him like that. You seem to like kids.”

“Sure. Why not? They’re fun.”

I figured both of us were thinking of our possible future. If we stayed together… If we got married… If we had kids… What would that be like?

But neither of us was ready to dive into any of those
heavy topics right then, and besides, Baby was about to escape. I’d let go of her leash while we were goofing around. Now she was exploring at the far edge of the yard, sniffing some interesting scent underneath a bush.

I cl
imbed to my feet and winced. My body ached from too much running and rolling in snowdrifts. I called Baby, and she came, for a change. She was getting better at obeying.

In the garage, w
e took off our snowy things and put the sad dog in her crate. She whimpered pitifully.

“Only a couple more days,” Anna promised
Baby, and maybe me too, because she squeezed my hand when she said it.

Or maybe she was reminding herself
. She seemed to be having more trouble with this visit than I was. So far, her parents and cousins had been polite enough and the food was good. There were worse things than spending the holidays with relatives.

Anna

After we came in from playing in the snow, we went up to our room to change. While Jason was taking a shower, I finally had the opportunity to look at the
engagement ring. A silver band with a tiny diamond in the center, flanked by two sapphire chips, it was exactly the sort of unpretentious, delicate, rather old-fashioned design I would’ve chosen.

Jason
might not have consciously picked something that so exactly suited me. Perhaps it was the only ring he could afford, given his minimum-wage job. But as I slipped the ring on my finger, I felt as if he had a real sense of my taste, my personality, who I was as a person. Of course, I already knew this about him. He got me in a way no one else did.

S
o why was it so hard for me to make a leap and accept his proposal?

Because wearing this ring
indicated a long-term promise. Although my heart felt ready to make that step, my logical lawyer brain continued to weigh pros and cons.

I heard
Jason’s footsteps in the hallway and quickly pulled the ring off my finger and jammed it into the box, which I put in my suitcase.

My mom had prepared another culinary treat for lunch. I complimented her on her newfound cooking skill. “But I shouldn’t be surprised. Whatever you decide to do, you always accomplish it one hundred percent.”

“As do you,” she said. “Like it or not, you’re your mother’s daughter. Success is in your genes.”

She was joking in her own way, but good Lord, couldn’t she hear how arrogant that sounded? I quickly changed the subject. Gossiping about Chloe’s boys was the only thing I could think of that we might agree on, so I commented on how energetic they were. That set my Mom off and running about destructive tendencies and proper behavior.

That topic saw us through lunch, after which my dad took Jason off to the garage to show him his woodworking tools. This left me alone with my mom at last
, and the private time I’d dreaded was at hand.

“Your young man seems very sweet.” She sipped
tea from the fine bone china I remembered so well from my childhood and the two cups I’d managed to break from this family heirloom.

“He is,” I agreed. “Very sweet and funny. And clever.”

“Oh? In what way.”

“The way he thinks of things. I don’t know. Did you want specific examples?”

She set her cup onto its saucer with a gentle click and set it on the table. “It’s just… I understand that you like him, even love him. But do you really have enough in common with him to make a life together?”

I opened my mouth to argue
, and she put up a hand.

“I’m not trying to be negative or judgmental. That’s not my intent at all. I only want you to truly think about what your life together might be like as
you move forward in your career and he… Well, what do you imagine Jason doing in a year, two years, ten? Will he challenge you in the ways you need to be challenged?”

Impotent fury boiled in my veins. My mother was a master of eliciting exactly the answers she expected to her questions. She’d made a career of manipulating witnesses to receive the appropriate response
, and she was still able to twist my head around.

I swallowed
. “Mother, I don’t wish to discuss my relationship with Jason with you. If you look at it with strict logic, of course it doesn’t make much sense, but you have no idea what I feel or how we are together.”