Page 33 of Season of Gifts

Rolling his eyes, Robert shook his head.“Just be quiet.You’ve already gotten us in trouble.”

He couldn’t be in that much trouble.Father sounded like he always sounded, and Mother wanted them to have a special teatime with stories.“But where did she lose them?”

Maybe he could ask Lina to help look.She knew where everything was, no matter where he’d misplaced it.

Father appeared at the top of the stairs, and Robert hissed at Henry to be quiet.

Being the youngest wasn’t fair.The new baby was supposed to change that.He would be a big brother then, and Robert would be away at school, which really made Henry the oldest.

“Boys.”Father stopped in front of them.A few water droplets clung to his shiny black shoes.“Henry, pay attention.Eyes up here.”Here meant Father’s face, his storm-cloud-gray stare and pointed frown.“Your mother needs to rest.You aren’t to be loud or bother her, am I clear?”

“Yes, Father.”Robert always agreed with Father.

“Is she sad because she lost the baby?”

Father grabbed his shoulders and shook him twice.“Do notmention the baby to your mother, do you understand me?There is no baby.”

That was a lie.“But Mother said she would come home with the baby.She said she was carrying—”

Crack.His cheek burned; tears stung his eyes.

“Henry.”Father bent on one knee, the storm clouds level with his own eyes.“There is no baby, do you hear me?Don’t speak of this again.”He squeezed Henry’s shoulder as he stood, fingers pinching against his bones.“Robert, take your brother outside, please.Your mother needs to rest.”

“Of course, Father.”Robert swung his head sideways, his eyebrows sayingsee, I told you to be quiet.“I won't let him be a nuisance.”

Father gripped Robert’s shoulder, too, but his squeeze-and-shake came with a nod.“Good man.I can always count on you.”

“Not always.”Shrugging off his outer coat, Henry blinked away the memories.He’d had no word from Robert yet, though he’d been keeping his sister-in-law updated regarding Mother’s condition.

Dinner was a quiet affair for one, a reheated lentil soup with a crusty slab of bakery bread toasted and buttered.He glanced at his phone while he ate, a transgression he wouldn’t have allowed at home.Meals were meant to be about connection and communion.

An unanswered text from Jay sat waiting for him.Attached, a photograph of Jay’s sartorial choices for the day and one of Alice, clearly unaware of the observation, as she sat at the breakfast table contemplating a spoon.Things are fine here.We miss you.Give our love to your mom, okay?I can be there whenever you need, just a few hours and bam, I’m there.

What had he said to Alice last year?That Jay at the holidays might be too much for his mother to handle?His boisterous energy, his inquisitive curiosity…

I won’t let him be a nuisance.Robert’s voice hadn’t dropped yet then; he’d vowed to manage Henry in his perky eleven-year-old tenor.

Henry’s phone slipped an inch to the table and clattered beside his bowl.Stifling Jay the way he’d been silenced would only lead to paths he’d seen before—Robert and Father’s overly rigid, unemotional way of moving through life.

Barely forty-eight hours since he’d left Alice and Jay, and already he’d upset their domestic rhythms.Leaving them wondering all day, not checking in with them—he’d been so narrowly focused on not missing the slightest hint of trouble from Mother that he had abrogated his responsibilities to them as both dominant and spouse.

Guilt would be a self-indulgence not in the least bit helpful in either situation.He ran through a sensory exercise, appreciating the crunch of the bread crust, the velvet smoothness of the pureed lentils, the hint of spice on his tongue.

Alice and Jay had strolled amid the holiday lights last night; his careful planning hadn’t gone to waste even though he wasn’t present to enjoy their reactions.There would be other years ahead.Though this would have been the first.The raw patch in his throat ached.He didn’t dare voice the nagging concern that he would miss all of their activities.

With Alice’s experiences, she would have guessed by now.Jay would be devastated—to have stepped away from one family and created another only to be robbed of both in the darkest days of the year.

“Intolerable.”

But Mother could not be left alone.She would need ongoing medical care for weeks.Assistance with daily tasks.Monitoring for signs of depression and anxiety, which her doctor had said were common after a heart attack.Even if the hospital released her this week, his duties to her would only grow more expansive.

“I am tired.It’s late.”Eight twenty-five, an hour perhaps late by a six-year-old’s standards, but not usually by a thirty-nine-year-old’s.“Seemingly intractable problems have solutions.They simply don’t arise in the midst of exhaustion.”

But he had one more responsibility to fulfill this evening before taking care of himself.Alice and Jay, if they had followed instructions, would just be settling in for their movie night.He might at least hear which favorites they’d chosen to share.

Alice answered on the first ring, her voice warm and welcoming, a more comforting sensory experience by far than dinner could ever be.

“On speaker, yes, please, sweet girl.”He’d opted for audio-only; strengthening his voice was much simpler than maintaining his composure for as long as his lovers wished to talk.Elbows on the table, phone placed between, he rested his forehead in his hands and closed his eyes.“I’ve just come from the hospital, and all is well there.Will you tell me about your day, both of you?I’ve quite missed you.”

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