Page 93 of A Lesson In Beginning

“I mean, what if by the time I figure it all out and decide to continue, you’ve already moved on?” He laughed, short and loud, before giving up all pretenses and pulling me to him. He hugged me close, pulling us both up and out of our chairs.

“Silly girl. Do you think I’ll just start looking for another person to play with simply because you need some time to think?” I nodded, and he just groaned, kissing my head. “That’s not how this works, love. Not with me. Not ever. I am dedicated to this; to you, to us, until the day you verbally tell me you are ending it.”

“But —” I began, but he pulled away, pressing his finger to my lips, effectively silencing me.

“No, buts. Take all the time you need. As I said already, you are more than worth the wait.”

He hugged me to him again, and for a moment, just one brief moment, I let go of all the worry and strife I had been carrying around with me for days, and simply melted into his embrace.

“Will you let me walk you to the car? I know Malachi said Levi was coming to pick you up this evening.”

“I’d love that.”

Things may not have been perfect, but they weren’t over. I had time to think, time he had allowed me. Honestly, it shocked me just how understanding he was being. But as I left him in that parking lot that night, watching from the car’s side mirror as Levi drove us away towards home, I was eternally grateful for the man that was Joel Whitlock.

CHAPTER 25

“Rockin’ around, the Christmas tree, have a happy holiday!”

The music played loudly, laughter and joy filling every square inch of Levi and Ruth’s home. With every couple in attendance and children running around with holiday delight, I sat on the sofa, simply soaking up the miracle that was this day. I had decided first thing this morning that I would not let my problems ruin this day; not for Samuel, nor for anyone else. The deep well of melancholy and tension that sat in my core could wait until tomorrow. Today was for family, for love, and for happiness, even if that happiness was a thin veneer over my deeper sadness. So I had joined in, laughing and smiling with everyone else.

Fake it till you make it, it was said, and so I had. A few times throughout the day, I had even managed to forget for a little while and truly join in on the Christmas spirit. Then I would glance around, instinctively wanting to share that joy with Joel, and that sadness would come rushing back full force as I remembered he was not here.

Last night, each and every one of the Temple brothers had piled into the house with wives, children, food, and gifts galore in tow. It was a tight fit, squeezing the entire family into the one home, but we had made it work. The children had been snuggled into Samuel’s room. The pure joy on his face at a cousin’s sleepover was unlike any I’d ever seen. The adults had taken separate rooms. Malachi and Eden had even volunteered to camp out in Levi’s office on an air mattress, claiming that they were no strangers to ‘roughing it’, whatever that meant. Something about camping, I guessed.

We had enjoyed a beautiful evening of food and fun, followed by tucking the children in while the adults played Santa, placing presents galore under the tree. I don’t think anyone enjoyed it quite as much as the five brothers did, however. Each of them let their masks of stern nobility fall away, replacing them with smiles that would have anyone’s cheeks cramping.

The children had awoken this morning to gifts piled so high, I swore we could barely see the tree. Their shrieks of laughter as each opened their presents made me feel something I could not express with words. All the adults sat around, much as we were now, cuddled up on the sofa and chairs, some sitting on the floor, all of us in matching pajamas that Ruth had purchased for everyone. If I could have bottled up the magic of this single twenty-four-hour period, it would have been my most cherished possession. As it was, it would likely be my most cherished memory for years to come, despite my lingering melancholy.

The children were starting to lose steam finally, the sounds of their laughter fading as the tiny infants had been tucked into bed, the toddlers nearing that time very soon.

I had been nervous about the present exchange. I had spent the last few months tucking away every penny I could from my paychecks, saving towards finding a home of my own for Samuel and I. That meant I did not have the funds to give the way I wished to. I had spent weeks on the gifts I had fashioned for each of the couples. I had taken family photos, painstakingly and sneakily borrowed from each of them, uploaded them to my computer, and created custom works of art for each of their homes. The little money I could spend on each of them went towards having each photo backed and framed beautifully. I worried it would not be enough; I was not as wealthy as any of them were. I had also worried that Samuel would be disappointed with the sparse gifts I could afford for him, but I could not have been more wrong.

Samuel had cried out in pure joy upon opening each of the gifts I had given him, and his aunts and uncles had completely spoiled him with an abundance of other gifts. Toys, clothing, and more came from beneath the tree, all with his name scrawled on tiny scraps of paper for him to open.

Each of the couples had been in awe of my work, though I found it to be quite inferior to the other gifts given, but I had quickly learned that the spirit of giving was not based on the price of the gift, but of the love that was put into it. There were shared tears, and many thanks given. In the end, I had felt as much a part of this family as I could ever have hoped for.

It was nothing like life in Zion, and for that, I was eternally grateful.

Delilah and Eden had offered to take the children up to bed, giving us parents a reprieve, though I had already tucked Samuel into bed not long before. I wanted a moment alone with my son, to hold him, and just feel the overwhelming love and gratitude only a mother could feel, having experienced the joy of Christmas through the eyes of their child. Nothing could tarnish that feeling.

The adults were now curled up around the living room. Well, some of us were. Ollie, Eden, and Gideon were dancing around like utter lunatics, twisting and twirling to the Christmas music that played over the speaker on the mantel. It was a comical sight, but even their antics could not dampen the magic and wonder this Christmas had been.

The Temples only had a few rules for their Christmas festivities, it would seem. First, holiday pajamas must be worn from the night before and clear through the day. Not a single one of us got dressed, choosing instead to just exist in the love and joy of the day. Second, there were no women in the kitchen while the menfolk relaxed on the couch. No, the men were just as invested in the day as the women, and often shooed us out of the kitchen to let us relax. It was an odd thing to see men so invested and dedicated to giving their women a break. Not that I minded this shift in attitude; not one bit. And last, there was no talk of Zion. Not one word was uttered.

As much as I enjoyed the day, the stark differences between my old life and the new weighed heavily on my heart and in my mind. It had been weeks since I had talked to Joel that night at the club. Sure, we had spoken nearly daily since then, but our dynamic was firmly paused. There were no shared kisses, no touches, nothing more than the friendship that we shared. As much as I loved every moment of it, and as much as I was grateful for the time he gave me to think and process, I missed him terribly. Now, as I watched my family share kisses under mistletoe and snuggle into one another as more personal gifts were unwrapped, the loneliness settled over me even stronger. It had been a beautiful day, but I missed Joel.

“How are you doing, Adah?” Ruth sat down next to me on the sofa, a cup of hot cocoa in her hand meant for me, along with one for herself. “You look like you could use a warm drink.”

“I’m doing well. Today was… Ruth…” My voice trailed off, and I simply gave her a look. Smiling at one another, we shared a moment, a silent reflection of the love and hope that this day had given to each of us.

“It’s pretty great, isn’t it?”

“It is. Who knew the Temple sons were like this?”

“Well, I mean, I did. I’m married to one, though.”

“You didn’t know that before you married him.”

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