Chapter 20
BECAUSE WORK WAS SO BUSY, Christine could successfully compartmentalize her sadness and anxiety over Erik’s betrayal—mostly. She worked twelve-hour days, but when she collapsed in bed at the end of the day, her walls came down. She had dreams where she vainly tried to convince Erik of the sincerity of her feelings for him while he scoffed and faded away. She dreamed of seeing her father and Erik up on stage at the Blue Note while she tried and failed to get their attention. These dreams exhausted her and made her feel strangely raw, as if her skin were flayed from her body.
Christmas and the day off from work that accompanied it were not happy thoughts. How could she keep her mind and emotions out of the gutter? Meg and Marie invited her over, but Christine thought they might remind her too much of Thanksgiving, so she kindly declined. She didn’t want to be alone, so off she went to the only family she had.
Val had been ecstatic to see Christine at her doorstep shortly before she left for midnight mass and threw her arms around her daughter. The feeling of the only mother she’d ever known showing such joy at her appearance was too much for Christine’s frail boundaries. Before she knew it, she’d broken down in Val’s arms, much to her surprise.
“What’s wrong?” Val asked, so shocked she only asked the one question.
Christine shook her head and cried harder. She couldn’t admit everything that had happened to Val. Even in her sadness, she wouldn’t break Erik’s trust.
Val immediately poured Christine into a comfortable pair of pajamas and heated up a plate of spaghetti with white clam sauce left over from Christmas Eve dinner. She called Theresa and Nicole to let them know she’d be missing the service and that Christine had surprised her by coming over. After dinner, Val watched Christine with uncharacteristic somberness as Christine flipped through channels before settling on Die Hard . Christine dozed off on the couch sometime after John McClane dropped a dead body on the police car of the guy from Family Matters .
On Christmas morning, she threw on paint-smattered leggings and a SUNY Binghamton sweatshirt. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. She was not looking her best. She sat quietly as her foster sisters and their respective significant others arrived, along with Val’s brother and his family. The camaraderie was familiar and depressing at the same time. Christine sank deeper and deeper into the couch.
Theresa sat down beside her. “I thought we weren’t seeing you at Christmas this year?” Theresa asked kindly. Val and her daughters were handling Christine with kid gloves. She didn’t blame them. While she’d never been particularly obsessed with her appearance, she’d always been put together. Between last night’s crying and today’s wardrobe choices, it was clear she was going through something.
“Yeah—well—change of plans.” Her tone was cynical and barbed, and Theresa nodded to herself.
“Well, I’m glad to see you. It wouldn’t have been the same without you.” Theresa was nine years older than Christine and had gotten married last year. She was currently working as an elementary school teacher, but Christine suspected that would last until Theresa got pregnant.
She knew Theresa was trying to be supportive, and it helped. Between school and work, she’d let herself be as solitary as her now ex-boyfriend, which was probably why the demise of the relationship had hurt even more. She was guilty she’d taken Val and her foster sisters for granted. They were loud and obnoxious and a little flaky, but they were here, and they were hers.
“That means a lot. Thank you.” She gave a slight smile and met Theresa’s eyes. “How was your trip to Raleigh?”
“It was good—nice to see Nicole settled down there. I like her fiancé. He treats her well but doesn’t let her push him around.” She looked toward the kitchen, where Nicole was good-naturedly arguing with Val about the latest season of The Great British Bake Off .
“What about you? Are you dating anyone or too busy with school and work?”
Christine gave her a look—and clenched her jaw.
“Oh, it’s like that, huh? I thought I sensed breakup hair.”
Christine self-consciously touched her hair and grimaced at the greasy feeling. Yeah, it was breakup hair.
“Yeah, well, no bra, no makeup, no shits to give.”
Theresa looked at her conspiratorially. “Should we break out Mom’s not-so-secret bottle of Tito’s?”
Christine raised her eyebrows. “At 11:00 a.m.?” She hemmed a bit and grinned. “Yes, please.” She gave Theresa a genuine smile and felt grateful for the first time in a long while.
The two women snuck the bottle of Tito’s into the basement. The room was the same as always, with a dusty futon and a ping-pong table. Crashing onto the futon, the two women took turns taking swigs from the bottle. The futon had been unfolded like a bed, and they looked up at the twenty-year-old glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling.
“Bad breakup?” Theresa asked at length.
“You ever try to fix a guy?”
Theresa cracked up. “Don’t you remember Anton Rivera? Thought I could fix him my entire sophomore year of college.”
“Wasn’t he gay?”
“Doesn’t mean I didn’t feel something for him. Man, that heartbreak lasted a while. I couldn’t even be mad at the guy because…well…”
Christine laughed, the vodka taking the edge off her angst.
“Yeah, well, this guy was special and straight. Couldn’t get out of his head, though.” Her chin wobbled a bit. “I miss him.”
“Of course you do. Were you dating long?”
“Not that long, but we had a great connection. Everything just clicked.” She looked over at Theresa. “Was it that way with Michael?”
Theresa smiled, her face on the stars. “Oh yeah, I liked him right away. I remember on our first date, I thought to myself—this guy’s not my type physically, but he sure is funny. So I decided to go out with him again—just to see. Before I knew it, I was writing Mrs. Michael Manning in my notebook at work.”
“Can’t argue with you there. He’s hilarious.”
“Yeah, I definitely fell in love with his personality, and everything else fell into place.” Theresa smiled wistfully, and her face fell.
“What’s wrong?” Christine leaned up on her elbow and watched Theresa with alarm. “Are things okay with you and Michael?”
“I’m sorry—you’re feeling like shit, and I was trying to cheer you up.” Theresa could barely speak as tears flowed down her cheeks.
“You did cheer me up—now tell me what’s wrong. Can I do anything?” Her concern was growing by the moment.
Theresa sucked a healthy dose of crying-induced snot through her nose before she was able to speak. “Michael and I have been doing IVF. We had an embryo transferred two weeks ago. We thought maybe it’d worked—the first test was positive, but last night, the doctor called. It was a chemical pregnancy—no-go.” She looked over at Christine. “It was our first round. Our insurance still covers another one, but I’m just so scared I won’t get to be a mom. I’m already thirty-four years old—what if I missed my chance?”
“You’re only thirty-four years old. My mother gave birth to me at nearly forty. You have plenty of time.” She paused. “But I’m so sorry about your news. That must have been a horrible telephone call to receive.”
“And I’m so sorry about this asshole who broke up with you. Fuck him,” Theresa said, throwing a rough arm around Christine’s shoulder in a side hug. “If he can’t see that you’re fucking fantastic, he’s a moron. You need someone smarter than that.”
“Girls, come upstairs! It’s time to open presents!” Val called from the entryway to the basement. Christine and Theresa both wiped their eyes as they joined the rest of the family gathered around the tree.
The combination of vodka, no breakfast, and tears was ill-advised as the family shared their Christmas bounty. What started as a pleasant Christmas buzz quickly devolved into a maudlin pity party. Christine found herself getting unnecessarily emotional when Nicole gave everyone presents, and Christine hadn’t brought anything herself. How did anyone put up with her self-centeredness? She promised herself each family member would receive effusive letters and generous belated gifts when she could afford to go shopping again .
In the middle of opening Nicole’s gift, a homemade gift certificate for Christine to visit her for spring break, Christine burst into tears.
“Why are you crying? What’s wrong?” Val put her hands on Christine’s shoulders and got a whiff of Christine’s breath. “Theresa, did you get her drunk?” Val gave her older daughter an exasperated look.
“It’s breakup medicine, Mom! She was practically catatonic!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Christine tried to swallow her tears and sobbed harder for a moment. “Didn’t mean to ruin Christmas!”
Everyone laughed in response to Christine’s comment.
“Ruin Christmas? I’m just relieved it wasn’t me this year.” Val’s brother Steve guffawed. “Remember when I accidentally backed into Val’s giant sleigh lawn ornament, and it fell back and broke her picture window?”
“What about my first Christmas home from college when I smoked weed and ate all the cookies and half an apple pie on Christmas Eve?” Nicole offered.
“Not as bad as my first Christmas with the family when I forgot my Lactaid, chanced the eggnog, and destroyed Val’s toilet,” Theresa’s husband, Michael, admitted.
The stories came fast and furious. Val’s deceased husband had snuck into her room while they were just dating and fell asleep overnight, which led to Val’s father chasing him around the house on Christmas morning. In high school, Theresa had offered to make the turkey but forgot to defrost it, leading to the deep fryer exploding. The fire department had to be called. They ate cold-cut turkey that year.
By the end of the conversation, Christine was laughing so hard she was crying.
“This year is just your turn.”
And for the first time, Christine looked around, grateful to have created a family memory.