Chapter 26 #2
I nod my head to the refrigerator. “Grab the celery. And there’s an onion and bell pepper here on the counter. Would you mind chopping?”
Tyler gives me a half smile, shaking his head like my question is the craziest thing he’s heard.
America’s Christmas anthem, “All I Want for Christmas is You” plays from the music app on my phone and I sing along, shaking my hips and occasionally using the whisk as my microphone.
At the chorus, I catch Tyler staring at me with a big goofy grin on his face, which I match with one of my own and hip bump him.
Without warning, he grabs my hand and spins me around, right here in my kitchen.
On a startled laugh, I tip my head back, feeling happier than I can recall in a long time.
The song ends and we resume chopping and stirring, occasionally glancing over at each other, laughing quietly.
“Tyler?” I say.
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“I truly love my gifts. The kids do, too.”
He pauses chopping to look at me. “Other than my family, it’s been a long time since I bought gifts for anyone.
I knew I didn’t want the gifts to be generic, run of the mill items. I wanted each of you to feel seen, y’know?
” His Adam’s apple works on a swallow. “Anyway, I’m glad to hear I got it right. ”
Emotion threatens to clog my throat, but I manage to say, “You got it perfect.”
With Tyler helping, dinner comes together more quickly than it would have with me alone, and it’s not long before I’m calling the kids to the table.
We eat while the kids take guesses at what’s under the tree for them.
Jay still believes in Santa, so he tells us all about the gifts he hopes Santa brings.
So caught up in our dinner table discussion, after we’ve cleaned up and Tyler stands to head out, we’re completely shocked to find that the snow moved in sooner than expected.
Ice crystals glitter on every tree branch and the ping, ping, ping of more ice falling can be heard around us.
The temperature has been so cold this week it’s not melting when it hits the ground.
Slowly, Tyler puts one foot on the top step of my porch, gripping the handrail, then his other foot.
Ice crunches under his weight, and he takes the next step, slow and steady.
But when his feet hit the front walk several things happen at once.
One foot slides forward while the other scissors backward.
His arms pinwheel as he tries, but fails to right himself, and before I know it, he’s sprawled out on the ground with a thud.
I clap both hands to my mouth to stuff down my laugh, but it’s no use. When I see Tyler also gasping for breath through bouts of laughter I lose it, devolving into belly aching giggles.
“That was not my smoothest moment.” Tyler makes another attempt to stand, but all he achieves is more slipping and sliding. Instead, he scoots inch by inch until he’s seated on my porch step.
Taking a seat beside him, I say, “I guess the ice moved in earlier than expected.”
Tyler shoots me a wry smile. “Ya think?”
I bump my shoulder against his with an eye roll.
“Let me talk to the kids. If they’re fine with it, you can stay here. You’re entirely too tall for the chaise lounge in my art room, but I have an air mattress we can blow up.”
Tyler’s eyes scan my face, likely looking for doubt.
He won’t find it, though. It’s just an air mattress in a spare room.
Plus, it’s Christmas Eve. He should be with people.
That quiet voice pipes up again, whispering he should be with family.
He nods, and gingerly I stand, holding on to the banister.
Tyler stands, too, gripping my arm so I don’t slip and fall.
Once he’s sure I won’t lose my footing, we go back inside, Tyler going to the kitchen while I head down the hallway to talk to my kids.
Abby has packed up her flute and is now back in her bedroom on a call with Amelia. I can hear her talking animatedly, chattering about her gifts from Tyler. When I get to her door, I tap lightly with my fingernails to get her attention.
“I need to talk to you kids about something.” Jay’s door is wide open across the hall but he still has his headset on, so I step into his room to lift one ear of his headset. “I said, I need to talk to you kids about something.”
Jay grins but pauses his game and looks up.
“The ice came in sooner than expected. Tyler tried to walk down the front walk but it’s too slippery. Pretty sure the roads are nothing but ice, too. There’s no way he’ll make it back to the apartment. Would you kids feel weird if he slept on the air mattress in my art room?”
Abby’s face screws up.
“Mom, he’s, like, here all the time. We’re used to him,” she says.
“Think he’d play my game with me?” is all Jay asks.
“I’m sure he would, son. Okay, if you guys won’t feel uncomfortable, I’ll offer it to him.”
They both resume their game and call, and I head to the kitchen, giving Tyler a thumb’s up.