Chapter 25 #2
for me, and it was less travel and readjusting to time zones.
“Right, so, but this is going to be the first Christmas I spend here, the first one we spend here, and I want us to have a real tree. I’ve always wanted one. It’s just something about havin’ the scent of pine
in the house. It just makes the season.”
Sasha had a wistful expression as she talked.
Holidays in general weren’t a big deal for me, but I could tell they meant a lot to her.
If buying a tree would help make it more meaningful and special since I didn’t know if I’d be home next year, it’d be okay for me to revert back to the old habit of letting her get her way.
“I mean, can I just get you an air freshener? I’m joking. I’m joking,” I said quickly before she could start fussing. “You
convinced me, and I want you to have your Hallmark holiday. Christmas tree shopping it is.”
Sasha squealed with excitement and threw her arms around my neck, kissing me all over my face.
An hour later, we were strolling hand-in-hand through the Christmas tree lot with Vuitton. He got a lot of looks being decked
out in his winter coat and, true to his diva nature, he ate up all the attention. The scent of pine oddly mingled well with
the cinnamon and sugar permeating the air from the roasted nuts stand.
I was glad it was a mildly cool day because Sasha had rejected nearly every tree we’d looked at so far. They were too short,
too round, the needles too sharp—I wasn’t even sure what she meant by that one. But there was no rush. I was enjoying the
time we were spending together. We were feeling like a regular couple without any of the frustration and burgeoning resentment
that had been lingering between us.
Sasha let out a gasp when she abruptly stopped in front of a large tree. “I think this is the one.” She released my hand to
walk around it, lightly touching the branches as she went. She clapped her hands while bouncing from side to side. “Yes, it’s
perfect!”
Vuitton responded to her excitement by barking and jumping at her legs until she picked him up. “See? He agrees.”
I laughed, quietly approaching them both. “You sure this is the one, Goldilocks?”
“Yeah. Why? What’s wrong with it?”
I stood next to the tree that Sasha was set on. I was six-five, and her pick had to be at least two good, solid feet taller than me. “We only have nine-foot ceilings.”
“So?”
“So, I don’t think this is going to fit, baby.”
She frowned, and I hated raining on her parade. “What do you mean? Of course it will.”
I stood next to it again. “Baby, how tall am I?”
“Too tall.”
“Okay, well, if I’m ‘too tall’—” I craned my neck up to look at the tree. “This tree has got to be at least nine feet, and
this is before you put it in a stand, Sash.”
She tilted her head as she examined me, then the extra height of the tree behind me. “But we have really high ceilings.”
“We have really high ceilings to you.” I laughed.
She set Vuitton down then put her hands on her rounded hips and frowned. “Are you callin’ me short again?”
“I’m not calling you anything. I’m statin’ a fact. To you, our ceilings are very high. To me, they’re average, borderline
too low.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “You can’t touch them.”
“I can if I need to,” I retorted, stepping closer to her.
“Not without gettin’ on your toes,” she shot back with a smirk on her full lips, and mischief dancing in her eyes.
I hooked two fingers into the pocket of her jacket, tugging her closer. “At least I can. You wouldn’t be so lucky even if
on a stepstool.”
People moved around us, talking, laughing while we were locked in a playful battle of wills. Amusement lit up Sasha’s features,
which betrayed the small pout she tried to adopt. If she was truly set on this one, I’d figure out a way to make it work,
but I was hopeful she’d relent and see the truth of the situation.
“You ladies need some help?” one of the workers asked as he strolled over to us.
She shot a quick glance above my head, then rolled her tongue along her glossy bottom lip. “Fine,” she huffed.
“Not yet,” I answered. “We still have some searching to find the perfect fit.”
“Alright. Y’all come find me when you’re ready.” He gave Vuitton a quick pet between his ears before walking off to help another
family.
We continued on for another ten or fifteen minutes, searching for a suitable substitute that had to be the right height, the
right fullness, and with needles that weren’t too dry or prickly. I was about to suggest a different lot because I was sure
we’d seen every tree they had available, but she found one that made her light up the same way the other had. And I tried
not to grumble too much at the price tag of $150 for a tree that we’d have up for three weeks before it ended up in a landfill
somewhere.
We found a compromise, and the only new decorations she would buy would be the tree stand we needed, because the fake tree
she’d spent nearly $1,300 on had one that was attached to the pole, plus it wasn’t suitable for a live tree anyway because
it wouldn’t hold water. The lot attendant got our selection wrapped up in netting and was kind enough to throw a piece of
burlap on the roof of Sasha’s SUV before securing the tree.
“Will Big Mama be spending Christmas with us?” I asked as we headed back home.
Sasha stroked Vuitton as he curled up in her lap, sleeping as if the outing had taken a lot out of him. “Um, I don’t know.
I actually hadn’t thought about it.”
“I just figured you like spending the holidays with her, and if you want us to be in our house, I just assumed you’d want
her in our house as well.” I cut my eyes over at her, and she smiled.
“I would. Are you okay havin’ another holiday with my family?”
“Um. Do you really think your parents would come?”
“Maybe. If Big Mama is with us, chances are good. Unless they go see Dad’s side. I don’t have to invite them though.”
Did I want them at my house after the Thanksgiving fiasco? No. Would I tolerate them and do my best to be cordial if that’s
what my wife wanted? Yes, albeit reluctantly. The relationship she had with her parents was rocky, but she still wanted one,
and I wouldn’t begrudge her that.
“Sash, I know you’re looking forward to this being a big deal. If you would like to include them, then that’s fine.”
Sasha reached over to slip a hand behind my neck. She opened and closed her fingers, and the soft scratching of her nails
was soothing and helped combat the slight irritation I was trying to not let grow. If I wasn’t driving, I would have closed
my eyes and probably fallen asleep.
“I’ll start with Big Mama. She’s stubborn, but also, she might be down for a change so she doesn’t have to do the hostin’.
I’ll have to call her when we get home and see what she says.” She stopped rubbing the back of my neck and shifted her attention
to Vuitton. “And . . . if she says yes, she will most likely let it slip to my folks. If they are interested in being with
me, they will call.”
I cut my eyes over at her, but said nothing about her passive approach to the situation. The possibility of them actually
calling to ask for an invite was slim, which I wasn’t mad about. We rode in silence for a few when a thought hit me.
“Hey, what was last night? When you apologized?”
“Oh. Honestly, I thought you kinda forgot about that.”
I glanced at her briefly before putting my attention back on the road. “Honestly, I kind of had, but this talk about your
parents sort of reminded me.”
“Ah.” She kept her eyes down as she fiddled with Vuitton’s leash, which matched his name.
“So, what was it all about?”
“I shouldn’t have lied,” she said quietly. “I thought at the time I was doin’ it for a good reason, tryin’ to distract my