CHAPTER NINETEEN
JJ—
“You ready for this?” I ask Rebecca.
She sits next to me in the truck, staring at the church.
The living nativity crèche is set up on the grass in front of the building, complete with hay bales, two sheep in a small corral, and a donkey tied nearby.
“Yes, let’s go before we’re late.” She reaches for the door handle.
“Wait there,” I say, stepping out and going around to get her door for her.
“Well, aren’t you the gentleman tonight?”
I grin and take her hand, helping her out. We walk inside and find the director.
“Oh, good. You’re here. We’re all ready to go. I’ve got your costumes. Follow me.”
She leads us to a room where we can change into our outfits.
On the way, we pass the three wise men, two shepherds and an angel decked out in some amazing costumes.
“Wow,” I whisper to Rebecca. “They take this seriously.”
“Of course they do.”
We split and enter two separate rooms. Inside mine, I find a preschool room with my costume laid across one of the tables. It’s a cream under-robe with a belt and an over-robe in dark brown open down the front, plus a drape for over my head.
Putting it on, I catch my reflection in a mirror over a hand-washing station against the wall. With my longer scruffy hair and beard, I completely look the part.
I step out into the hall, and wait with the others for Rebecca. When she finally comes out, she’s wearing a simple gown with a sky-blue drape that covers her head.
She looks beautiful in a serene way, and every bit the part of Mary.
I grin and spin in a circle. “What do you think?”
“You look great.”
“So do you.”
“This way, everyone.” The director leads us outside to the crèche. A wooden golden star hangs over it with a spotlight on it.
Lights shine from the ground, strategically placed along the edges.
It’s 7pm, and we’re doing this until nine. Once again, Amanda and Eric and their kids are covering for us, plus they’ve got the help of the three teenage boys I hired the other day.
“Okay, Mary, Joseph, you are here on these hay bales on either side of baby Jesus.” Between us, a wooden manger with straw holds a baby doll wrapped in swaddling.
“Shepherds, you’re over here, and the three wise men are on this side.” She directs the placement of everyone. “Angel, you’re up on this riser, watching over the scene.”
After we’re all in place, a church photographer gets some still shots of us.
“Mary,” the photographer says. “Could you hold baby Jesus for a few photos, please?”
Rebecca licks her lips and stares at the doll for a moment, then bends to pick it up and cradle it to her in its swaddling.
“Oh, that’s perfect,” the director says. “If you could pose like that tonight, that would be wonderful, maybe stroke his head and such.”
Rebecca swallows and seems uncomfortable, but smiles serenely at the child and strokes its head.
Once the photographer leaves, a line of cars slowly begins driving past to see us, and Christmas songs play softly in the background. O Holy Night, Silent Night, Away in a Manager and What Child Is This? to name a few.
Toward the end of the night, I notice silent tears rolling down Rebecca’s cheeks. I don’t want to draw attention to it, but I frown, concerned.
“You okay?” I whisper, moving to stand behind her and the child in her arms, settling my hand on her shoulder.
She nods and dashes the wetness from her cheek.
The last fifteen minutes of the performance drag out, and when the last of the cars rolls away, the lights go out and the director approaches.
“Well done, everyone. Just superb.”
Rebecca hurriedly sets the doll in the straw and straightens.
“There’s coffee and pastries in the community room, everyone,” the director states.
I put my arm around Rebecca and lead her to the changing rooms, where she quickly disappears into hers. I retreat to mine, sorry there were so many people around and I had no chance to speak to her.
Once we’re both changed, we meet in the hall.
“You want coffee, or do you want to duck out?” I murmur, taking her hand in mine.
“I’m ready to go home.”
I like that she thinks of the cabin as home, and we walk to the truck. I hold her door, but before she climbs in, I pull her into my arms and just hold her.
“You okay? I’m sorry if that was too much for you. Playing Joseph and Mary was a lot. It kind of got to me, too.”
She doesn’t reply, just nods, and I stroke her back.
“Thanks,” she whispers before climbing inside the cab.
I’m halfway to the tree farm before I glance at her. “You want to tell me what all that emotion was about back there?”
She shakes her head.
“Come on, Becca. There were tears rolling down your cheeks. Something brought them on. Did I do something?”
“It’s not you.”
“Then what was it?”
“It’s just hard, you know? Holding that baby… I mean the doll that was supposed to be my child. I imagined holding my own child and how it would feel. It got to me.”
“You want kids? Why didn’t you and David have any? Did my dick-of-a-brother not want them? The selfish bastard.”
She shakes her head. “We couldn’t have any. It just didn’t happen for us.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” I feel like a real asshole. My expression softens, and I reach across the space to take her hand, threading our fingers together.
“David always blamed me. I think your mother did, too.”
“That’s not right, Rebecca. They shouldn’t have made you feel any guilt. My God. I’m sorry. I want to apologize for my entire family. I can’t believe they treated you that way. That’s low, even for them. I wouldn’t be surprised if you told the entire bunch to get lost.”
“Well, I always liked your grandparents.”
“Yeah, they were some of the sweetest people, weren’t they?” I stroke my thumb over the top of her hand. “You sure made an impression on them.”
“You know, not being able to conceive? I actually started to see it as a blessing.”
I frown. “How so?”
“David would have been a selfish, crappy father.”
“I have to agree with you there.” I turn up our drive. “You know, my brother was always a dick to me, and I would have hated to see him do that to his own child. I’m sorry you can’t have kids, though. You’d be a wonderful mother.”
“You think so?”
“Absolutely.” I park and go around and open her door. “Hey, Rebecca?”
“Yes?”
“Did you ever… you know, get a doctor’s opinion? Did they tell you that you couldn’t have kids? Maybe it was my brother who was the problem.”
“He never wanted to get tested, and he didn’t want me to do it, either. I think he was afraid to find out. It was easier for him to just assume it was me and put all the blame on my shoulders.”
I’ve never wanted to drive my fist into my brother’s face more than I do right now, when it’s too late to do anything about it.
“I know it’s hard, but you have to let go of all that old hurt,” I tell her.
“Back ‘atcha, JJ.”
She’s right. I’m hanging onto every single thing from my childhood, and here I am telling her to let her pain go. “You’re right about that. It’s not easy, is it? I’m sorry for the flippant response. It was thoughtless.”
“I guess we both need to work on that.”
“You’re exposing the cracks in your marriage, and I admire your guts for doing so. You’re stronger than you know, Rebecca. Don’t ever let anyone tell you differently.”
“Thanks, JJ.”
We walk inside, and I move to the fire, starting one with kindling and split hickory logs. The rich scent of burning wood soon fills the air. Something about a crackling fire has always soothed my soul.
Rebecca curls up on the couch, and I tuck a throw blanket around her. “Want some wine?”
“That’d be nice.”
I return shortly with two glasses. I’ve never been a wine drinker before, but it’s not so bad, and I enjoy it with Rebecca.
“Thank you.” She takes the glass from my hand, and I sit next to her. “I’m sorry about tonight. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You have every right to have feelings. Don’t apologize for them. Not to me. Not to anyone.” I brush a lock of her hair back.
“You’re not who I thought you were, JJ.”
“No?”
“Well, maybe at the beginning. You were so grouchy. But now I’ve gotten to know the man underneath all that. You’re a good guy, and you care about people.”
“Don’t let it get around. You’ll ruin my hard-earned reputation.” I smile, and she chuckles. I hold up my glass. “Here’s to wrong first impressions.”
We clink glasses and sip.
“What was your first impression of me?” she asks.
“You don’t want to know,” I murmur.
“That bad?”
“Not bad at all, but it’ll sound vulgar. Let’s just say I thought you were very pretty in that sweater dress.”
“What’s the vulgar version?”
“I wanted to bend you over the nearest piece of furniture.”
She laughs. “That is vulgar.”
“Told you. You need to listen to me more.” I grin and stare at the fire. “But damn, I’ve used the image of you in that dress more than once in the shower.”
Her mouth drops open, and she slugs my arm. “You are a bad boy.”
“To the bone, darlin’.”
That makes her snort and almost spit out her sip of wine.
“If I didn’t know that was your first glass, I’d cut you off.”
We sit quietly for a few minutes, both happy in the moment.
Rebecca stares at the corner next to the fireplace. “We need to put up a tree in here.”
“We do. Pick one out tomorrow and I’ll put it up for you.”
“You know, when I was younger and fresh out of school, I had such plans. There were a million places I wanted to visit, like Paris and London and Venice. Anyway, I wanted to bring back a Christmas ornament from each place I visited.”
“Did you ever go to any of those places?” I ask.
“Nope. Not one.”
“Why not?”
“I met David. We got married, and he was never interested in travel.”
“So, because he didn’t want to, you didn’t get your dream. That’s bullshit. You deserve to go to all those places, and you should.”
“Maybe someday.” She sips her wine.
“I guess we need some ornaments for this tree. We could pick some up next time we’re in town.”
“That would be fun. But when would we find the time? We’ve got to cover our business hours.”
“We’ll figure it out. I promise,” I say.