Chapter 33 Jonah
JONAH
On Monday, I wake up earlier than Winnie, and creep out of bed, trying to be as quiet as possible.
She seemed tired when we went to sleep last night, and she tossed and turned during the night.
I’m not entirely sure what is bothering her, but I imagine it’s something to do with her parents. It always is.
In the kitchen, I immediately flip on the coffee maker and wait for it to get going. After a few seconds, I stick my mug directly under the stream and wait for it to fill up.
“Hey,” Winnie says, padding into the kitchen in a pink robe. Even with sleep in her eyes and her hair a bit mussed, she still looks beautiful.
“I made extra.” I jerk my chin at the coffee machine. “Seemed like you might need it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just that you didn’t sleep well last night. Was something on your mind?”
“How do you know that?” Her voice is sharper than usual, reminding me that Winnie doesn’t enjoy admitting that something is wrong.
“I slept next to you, and heard you toss and turn for a while before you fell asleep.”
Her cheeks turn pink. “I’m sorry if I kept you up, I must not be used to sleeping with someone else in bed with me. I haven’t done it since college.”
“Are you sure it’s not something else?” I refrain from asking her if it’s something about us that’s keeping her awake. There’s no need to complicate things this early in the morning.
“I had a bad dream about my parents,” she admits after a beat.
I pull her towards me for a hug, and she seems to relax a bit in my arms. “You’re safe,” I whisper into her neck.
We sit in companionable silence for a while, drinking our coffee and reading. Winnie is nose deep in the biography of Judy Garland I gave her, and I pick up one on the history of Motown. I’m about to start making breakfast when my phone dings with a text.
It’s my mom.
“Win,” I say. “Everything’s fine. She’s alright.”
“Your mom?” Winnie snaps her book shut and jumps from her seat. She clasps my hands in hers and looks up at me.
“Yeah, look.” I show her the phone.
Mom: My results came back and I’m cancer free. Your father and I are going out tonight to celebrate, but we’d love to have Winnie and you over soon. Could you send me her number, by the way?
“Jonah! That’s incredible!” Winnie flings her arms around me and I pick her up, spinning us around the kitchen.
“Yeah, it really is.” I set her down, and then I feel my shoulders start to shake.
Silent sobs wrack my body, and I grip one edge of the kitchen counter.
“Sorry,” I manage to say. “I’m happy—it’s just…
” I don’t know how to explain how I’m feeling.
Relieved, and happy, but it’s so much more than that.
I feel like I was seconds away from death and managed to escape only by the skin of my teeth.
“You don’t have to apologize and you don’t have to explain if you don’t want to. Cry as much as you need to. Say whatever you want. I’ll be here for it all.” Winnie cups my cheek in her hand and brushes away a tear with her thumb.
I catch her hand in mine and press my face against our palms. “Thank you.”
“I think you should take the day off,” Winnie suggests. “We could go do something fun. Play hooky.”
“I have an appointment at Holden’s ranch later and then—”
“Tell him you’re sick. And I’ll tell Candice the same.” Winnie’s blue eyes are sparkling. “It’s December now. We need to get a Christmas tree and decorate this place, and today is the perfect day for it.”
I can’t resist Winnie’s infectious smile, so I agree. I quickly text my mom, sending her Winnie’s details like she asked and saying how relieved I am. Then I let Holden know I can’t come by the ranch today. I’ll squeeze it in between my appointments tomorrow.
“Put on something festive!” Winnie says brightly, and then she disappears into the bedroom.
Winnie’s festive outfit is a short red velvet dress paired with sheer black tights. She’s wearing a black coat and a plaid scarf over it, and as we walk through the Christmas tree farm, I have to remind myself that I’m here to pick a tree out with my wife. Not to ogle her.
We’re at Hunt’s Tree Farm, where my parents and I always get our trees. We were driven out here on a quad by one of the owners’ sons, and then given an axe. We’ll pick out the tree, and then cut it down, though I expect I’ll be doing all of the work.
“Oh, what about this one?” Winnie says gesturing at a tree that is easily nine feet tall.
“Not sure how it would fit into the living room, but if your heart is set on it, I could cut a hole in the roof?”
Winnie laughs, the sound buoyant and clear. “Fine, fine, we’ll get something smaller. Something cute.”
We walk down another row of trees, and Winnie slides a little on the snow. I catch her by the elbow, and tug her upright. She stumbles again and catches herself against me, hands pressed flat against my chest.
“I should have worn more practical shoes,” she says. “Which is the story of my life.”
I glance down at her black heeled boots that seem to have no traction whatsoever. “But this pair looks so good on you.”
“Thanks.” Winnie grins up at me. “I think so too.”
Her coat is unbuttoned, and my hands find the curve of her waist, caressing it through the soft velvet of her dress. I move them lower, brushing the hem of her skirt and over her smooth thighs. She wiggles closer to me and grabs my collar, pulling me flush against her.
I flip her skirt up and press my palm to her center. Winnie whimpers and her head lolls forward. “Jonah,” she breathes.
“If I pulled down your tights and panties would I find you wet and needy for me, Win?” I rub the heel of my palm against her, right where I know she wants it.
“Maybe,” she says, cheeks pink in the cold air, eyes bright with lust.
“Good. Let’s hurry the fuck up and pick a tree, because the faster we do, the faster we can get home.”
“Aye, aye Captain.”
Winnie steps away from me, closes her eyes and spins around her arm outstretched. Miraculously, she doesn’t fall. She stops, opens her eyes and says, “That’s the one!” She’s pointing at a fat, squat little tree that is a far cry from the majestic one she picked out earlier.
“It’s perfect,” I say. “The fatter the tree, the more room for ornaments. That’s what my dad always says, anyways.”
“It’s cute,” Winnie agrees. “And our house is small, so it will easily fill the living room.” The way she says our house makes my heart clench.
For the first time, I feel like Winnie and I are in a real relationship—a real marriage—and I like it.
A lot. More than I should given the circumstances of our marriage but I can’t be bothered giving a fuck anymore. Not after last night.
I step towards the tree, axe in hand, and squat down to look at the trunk. It’s pretty thin compared to the others so it won’t take nearly as long to cut down. I make quick work of it, and lift it up and onto my shoulder.
Winnie claps and lets out a whistle. “Just like a lumberjack,” she says.
This makes me roll my eyes, but I don’t miss the appreciative way she’s looking at me, or the impressed gleam in her eyes. Winnie slips her hand in the crook of my elbow and together we walk back to the quad.