Page 70 of If Only You Hurt

Betty is slower than she used to be, but she’s still as sweet and opinionated as ever. The older she gets, the more she doesn’t waste her time with people she doesn’t want to get to know. She still comes to Laney and me first, over anyone else in a crowd. Most of the time, if I listen for it, I always hear Becca’s muffled complaints, even from far away. It’s hard not to laugh about it.

“Why do you have that sneaky smile on your face, Shane?” She’s eyeing me, probably able to figure out where my thoughts went.

“Nowhere, love. My thoughts are always revolving around you.” I lean in to kiss her. As much as she knows I’m full of shit, she goes along with it, never missing an opportunity to kiss me.

“Will Olive get here in time to open gifts in the morning?” I ask, having a hard time that my daughter isn’t under the same roof as us.

“Yeah. She’s doing the Brazilian tradition of opening gifts with her kids tonight, giving her the opportunity to do the whole thing in the morning with us.”

The fact we have an adult, a completely independent adult, I should say, living her best life after the train-wreck that was her dating life before meeting her husband, is a miracle. Her kids are fantastic, and I love the man that she chose forever with. Luckily, she’s back to living in the city; however, she didn’t opt for a brownstone like the older family members she’s surrounded by.

“Jack, Mal, the movie is about to start,” Becca yells. Betty looks up, annoyed by my wife’s loud voice, and Becs just looks down, confused about how the dog could be that perturbed.

“Don’t bother my dog. Why don’t you just text them.”

She scoffs. “I’m not texting them, Shane. That’s ridiculous.” Without seeing her face, I know she’s rolling her eyes.

I hear their footsteps coming down, much like they did when they lived here. They always spend a week in the city during the holidays before heading back to their realities. Mallory ended up liking what I did for work and began working at my company in Boston shortly after college graduation. Jackson was always into engineering, took a job in Chicago, and hasn’t looked back. They’re still only interested in dating, so they have no ties keeping them in their homes versus coming to spend the holidays with us.

Hudson usually joins us Christmas morning. He’s also settled down with someone new, and he seems to be happy. The guy has grown on me with each year that has passed. Luckily, now that he has a new love, he doesn’t have to keep looking like a lost puppy that fucked it up with my now wife.

“Mom, why didn’t you just text? You didn’t have to yell.”

I whisper, “Told you,” which is quickly followed by an elbow to the ribs.

The moment the kids take their seats, Becs is queuing up the movie.

“Hold up, is Betty going to bark at the squirrel part again?” Jack whines, and Becs takes this opportunity to point at him and scold.

“Don’t complain about my favorite child like that.” It’s a running joke in this house that Becs loves Betty over everyone else. It’s hysterical, and I think the more she says it, the more I believe it to be true.

Jack puts his arms up to show he means no harm, and all our attention goes back to the television.

Within minutes, I can hear a faint snore from my wife as she’s already sleeping, a full bowl of popcorn uneaten and nearly falling off the couch. I slowly remove the bowl from her, and she stirs and continues to sleep. I don’t know if I watched the movie or her more because she still captures my heart with each breath she takes.

Once the movie ends, the kids are yawning and calling it a night.

“Merry Christmas Eve, Shane. Sleep well.” Jack gives me a fist bump while Mallory kisses my cheek.

“Merry Christmas Eve, kiddos. See you in the morning. I think Olive will be here around eight-thirty or nine.”

“I guess wake us when you’re ready. I’m going to try to sleep a bit if my body allows it,” Mallory says, followed by another yawn. She’s a workaholic, and even though she’s not mine by blood, she and I have a lot in common—specifically, our work ethic.

Once the kids have gone up to their rooms, I slowly make my way off the couch, grab Betty, and take her to the bathroom outside. Snow is set to start soon, even though they’ve said that all day, and still no white flakes have fallen from the sky.

I know Wes and Micah were counting on some snow to blanket all the streets tomorrow. We’ll see everyone once again late in the afternoon tomorrow for another gathering. This time we consume the leftovers and enjoy the treats we were gifted. It’s fun to see Ellie and Laney’s parents, along with Grace and Rick. Wyatt’s family comes along as well, and we all simply take in the time together. It’s something I never get tired of.

Sadly, my relationship is still strained with my mother. For years, I couldn’t even speak of her, let alone call her. I went a handful of years without any communication, although she called plenty, per my colleagues at the office.

Surprisingly, it was Becs who pushed me to call her because, as we all know, life is too short. I am well aware my relationship and viewpoint of her is so incredibly different and shattered, but Becs made the point that I would regret not having some communication with her, especially as she’s getting older.

Now we speak occasionally, but that’s as far as I can go with her. I never pushed Olive to speak to her, nor do I talk about her to my grandchildren. I let Olive make that choice. What my mother did is still unforgivable, and I’m not sure I will ever see it as anything but the heartbreaking reality that it is.

Once Betty has done her business, she’s quick to make her way upstairs to her little bed in the closet. She really loves her space, and routine is key for that pup. Betty has her place in this family, and she will be around you when she wants the love. But she has no problem putting herself to bed and seeing us in the morning.

I start to shut off the lights, start the dishwasher, and make my way back toward the family room. I find Becs in the same position as I left her. She’s exhausted after all the prep work to ensure tomorrow is fun for everyone. I sit on the couch and begin to push strands of her hair off her face. I bring my lips to her cheek, then spread kisses along her face and forehead, ending with her lips. Soon, she’s smiling, eyes still closed, moaning as I continue to trail kisses down her neck.

“It’s time for bed, sweetheart. You ready?” I ask her, knowing she’s going to fight me to get off this couch.

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