“The Grey Christmas Eve tradition,” he said. “Ugh.”
“What? You don’t like shopping all day, having dinner at the Waves, going to a movie, and then ending it all with night services at church?” She pushed the damp hair away from his eyes, let her touch linger on his face.
“I’d rather eat my own boots.”
“I thought you’d want to help me find something for Noah.”
“I made him a dreamcatcher. My mom made me one when I was about his age.” He smiled. “I kept it a long time.”
“What’s a dreamcatcher?”
“Indian thing. You hang it over your bed and it keeps the bad dreams away.”
She touched his bare, damp chest, letting her fingertip trace the ugliest of his scars. It was an oblong-shaped pucker with pink edges. “Okay, Mr. Raintree, because I love you, I’m going to tell my sisters you’re sick today, but tomorrow is Christmas morning and we’re going to Dad’s. So if this is some kind of Ferris Bueller trick, you only get one day off.”
“It’s no trick.”
She leaned down and kissed him, germs and viruses and all. “I love you, Dal.”
“I love you, too.”
She reached over for Noah and picked him up. Taking him into his bedroom, she changed his diaper and put him in a red and green flannel shirt, OshKosh overalls, and his coat. Then she went back to Dallas, put a cool, wet rag on his forehead, and kissed him goodbye.
The following morning, Vivi Ann woke just as dawn was beginning its gentle rise from the horizon.
Rolling over, she faced her husband. She hadn’t known before that your whole world could sometimes be found in another person’s face, that creases could seem like valleys to be explored; lips a mountain range.
She leaned closer, pressed her naked body to his in the way she’d done so many times before. “Merry Christmas,” she whispered against his lips.
“Merry Christmas.” His voice was gravelly and low, as if he’d been yelling all night, or smoking cigars.
“How do you feel?”
“Better.”
They lay there for a while longer, and then Vivi Ann kissed him one last time and got out of bed. Almost from that moment on, they were both in motion. They took showers and got dressed. While Vivi Ann readied Noah for the big gathering down at the farmhouse, Dallas fed the stock and checked the water in the fields. By the time he returned, the fullness of daylight had settled across the pastures, catching in the puddles and drops from last night’s rain and giving everything a silvery sparkle.
Vivi Ann packed the truck with food and presents.
“Oh. There’s one more thing,” Dallas said as they were heading out. “Just a second.” He went into the bedroom and came out a moment later carrying a big pink-wrapped box. She could tell he’d wrapped it himself—the Scotch tape was at odd angles and covered every possible seam. The white foil bow was hanging on by a thread.
“You know we open presents at Dad’s,” she said. “Just put it in the truck.”
“Not this one.”
She laughed. “What is it? Edible underwear? Or a nightgown that doesn’t quite cover my nipples?”
“Open it.”
The way he was watching her caused a little shiver to skip down her spine. She took the package from him and carried it over to the sofa. He scooped Noah up from the floor and sat down next to her.
The sight of him beside her, holding the son who looked so much like him, was all the present she could ever want, and all the future, too. Still, eagerly she unwrapped the box and found another, smaller one inside of it, and then a small one inside of that. By the time she got to the smallest package, she was pretty sure she knew what it was and her heart was beating quickly.
She glanced at him, caught the intensity of his gaze, and opened the box.
Inside was a beautiful diamond ring. The stone was small but brilliant and set amid an antique-looking gold filigree.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t afford one when we got married.” He took the ring out and slid it onto her finger, butted it up against the plain gold band she’d worn since their wedding day more than three years ago.