Page 22 of A Constant Christmas

It’s been wonderful getting to know my wife again. Her brilliance shines through with every word she says. And each time she speaks, I seem to fall even more in love with her.

We spend our afternoon sitting on the beach, napping off and on, and reading a couple of good books. And she gets insanely giddy when she sees the playful dolphins are back to give us a show. Without thinking, she jumps up and heads into the shallow water hoping they will move closer.

They come close enough for her to run her hand along their backs a few times before they splash her with some water and swim off. I manage to get an awesome video on my phone which she keeps watching over and over because as she says, “It’s the coolest thing that has ever happened to her.”

I could be a dick and get offended, but I have to admit that it’s pretty damn cool.

When dinner rolls around, we have a nice meal out on the deck and watch the sunset. I hold up my wine glass to clink with hers.

“Well, Mrs. Wendell, I’d say this is a pretty perfect ending to our time here, wouldn’t you say?” I ask her.

She gives me one of her warm genuine smiles. “Yeah, it’s been amazing.”

“So, how do you want to spend our last night here? Our flight leaves in the morning to whisk us off somewhere else.”

“Hmm,” she ponders for a few moments before jumping up and heading into the house. When she returns she has a blanket in hand along with another bottle of wine. “Come on,” she says walking down the steps leading onto the beach.

She lays the blanket out in the sand and sits down, motioning for me to join her. I do without hesitation.

The sun is almost completely down, and the stars are beginning to show in the darkening sky.

“So, where are we headed to next?” She asks suddenly, hoping to catch me off guard.

“Nice try, Kansas. You know it’s a surprise.”

Lying down, I pull her into me so her head is on my chest. We sit in peaceful silence for a while just enjoying the serene landscape around us.

“So, what do you want for Christmas?” I finally say.

She giggles. “Nothing. This trip is more than enough. You don’t need to get me anything else.”

“You know if you don’t tell me what you want, I’m just going to have to guess, and then, you might hate it. And then I’ll say I told you so.”

“Tyler Wendell, don’t you dare get me anything. I’m sure this trip has been crazy expensive, and I don’t need anything else.”

I sigh because I knew that is exactly what she would say. Despite us having more money than we will probably ever need, Sam grew up on a farm in Kansas and she’s always been a bit thrifty.

Hell, we have enough money to take a private plane on vacation, yet my wife still clips coupons before she goes to the grocery store. And most of the time, she buys the store brand over the more expensive name brand. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t care. I like that she isn’t phased by our money, but you’d think after ten years, she’d at least be used to it.

And she should know by now that there’s no way in hell I am going to listen to her and not get her anything for Christmas. In fact, I already got her something. It’s not so much something that she will open. It’s not even something tangible that she can hold in her hands, but I think it’s something that will be near and dear to her heart.

And I hope she will love it enough to not get too mad at me when I give it to her.

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Bright and early the next morning, we are on the plane heading to our next stop. Although everywhere we are going has held some meaning for us, this one might mean the most for Sam.

She’s antsy as she doesn’t know where we are going, and honestly, I’m surprised she hasn’t guessed yet. Or maybe she has an idea, but she’s keeping quiet about it.

Either way, we are playing Jenga to keep ourselves amused. Sam is a whiz at this game. Her tiny hands are steady as they come; whereas, my long fingers knock the bricks over time and time again. Every time they fall, she laughs and gloats.

“You know, Kansas, you better be nice,” I say.

“Or what? Are you going to beat me at Jenga? Oh wait…” she quips.

I lean forward and whisper, “You just keep laughing. It won’t be so funny later when I am between those legs, and you’re begging me to come, but I just won’t let you.”

Her face flushes as she works her bottom lip between her teeth. “Sounds like fun. But you like feeling and hearing me come as much as I like doing it, so I don’t think you’d make me wait too long.”

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