Page 83 of Surrender

“Whitney! You out there?”

The garage door shuts loudly behind me as the kids and I get home Thursday evening. Another round of snow began falling this afternoon, making the roads slick but not unmanageable. Unfortunately for me, I only have about three years of experience driving on snowy roads before I moved out of Minnesota, so I drove slow with a white-knuckled grip the entire way back to Jack’s house.

“I’m here,” I yell back, emerging from the hall to find the main part of the house empty. “Where are you?”

“Bedroom.” The wooden door separating us muffles his voice.

I make quick work of Bennett’s hat and blanket while Lucy works to pull off her wet boots by herself. The toddler independence has kicked in strong, so I leave her to accomplish her task.

She struggles with her zipper, her little tongue poking out of the front of her lips before she finally gets it unstuck with a triumphant smile. I hover behind as she climbs the small footstool Jack bought just for her to reach the hooks, and she hangs up her jacket.

“I have to go talk to Jack. Do you want to come with me?”

“I color?”

“Go ahead. I’ll be there in a minute.”

She bounces her way to the kitchen table with all the exuberance of a three-year-old. I feel much more confident leaving her for a few minutes since Jack toddler-proofed the house.

I knock on the bedroom door, waiting for Jack to invite me inside.

“I’m in here.” His voice floats out from the closet.

“Did you lock yourself in?” I tease, opening the door to find his lower half sticking out of the ceiling, held up by a retractable ladder.

“Funny. Can you take this bin from me? I have two more.”

I set Bennett in the portable crib and return to take the light plastic container from his hands. “What is this?”

“I had an idea for something to do tonight. If you’re up to it.”

A jolt of anticipation strikes me in the chest. The distance between us from the prior week has vanished, almost as if it never existed.

“Sure. Are you going to tell me what it is?”

He emerges with two more containers stacked in his arms. My stomach slips into my throat as he descends the ladder. “It’s Christmas.”

I lick my lips, my mind flashing to the presents I bought and wrapped over the weekend. “It is.”

He shakes the bins gently in front of me, a small tinkling sound coming from inside. “That’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to set up Christmas.”

“You have Christmas decorations?”

He laughs, warm and rich. I want to bottle the sound for bad days. “Mom wouldn’t let any of us move out without a holiday starter kit. That woman loves a reason to decorate and celebrate.”

I follow his long paces into the living room. He deposits the bins next to a bare artificial tree beside the fireplace camouflaged by the dark corner. Next to…

“Is that a new couch?”

“Just arrived today.”

I turn to lift a roguish brow at him. “I didn’t even notice any of this when I came in.”

“Good. I was still able to surprise you. I didn’t want to waste time dragging the tree down from the garage rafters while you guys waited. This way, we can get started.”

“Smart.” And thoughtful. How he went out of his way to surprise my kids and me isn’t lost on me.

“Hey, Luce!”

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