The Christmas Blanket

“I wish I could jump inside that head of yours,” he said after a while, rubbing my arms to keep me warm.

“Trust me. It’s not fun in here.”

A soft chuckle left his chest. “Talk to me.”

I shook my head, leaning into him more, just wanting to be held. And River obliged me for a long while before he kissed my forehead and pulled back, still holding me, but with enough space that he could look at me, too.

“Come on. Out with it.”

“You’ll think I’m horrible,” I said, trying to bury my face in his chest, but he held my chin to stop me.

“Try me.”

I sighed, looking at the tree. “I just… I’ve dreamed about this for so long, what it would be like to have my first Christmas with my husband. I always pictured a beautiful tree, like the one my mom always has. All the lights and the ornaments and the candy canes. And I imagined decorating a wreath, and a yard, and baking pies all night long on Christmas Eve.” My eyes welled with tears. “But here it is, Christmas Eve, and we both worked all day. We’re exhausted. We don’t have the money for any Christmas gifts, let alone decorations, and we’re going to your parents’ for breakfast and my parents’ for dinner because we wouldn’t have any sort of holiday meal otherwise.” I sniffed. “And I’m so cold, and so sick and tired of being so cold. If we were in a house, we’d have a fireplace. But all we have is a broken heater and that small space heater in the corner that barely does a thing,” I said, gesturing to the little box doing its best to fill our apartment with warm air.

My bottom lip trembled as River ran his thumb along my jaw, and I leaned into his palm, my eyes finding his.

“I don’t mean it to sound ungrateful,” I said. “I just… is it awful to say that I’m a little sad that this is our first Christmas Eve?”

River shook his head, a gentle smile on his lips. “I’m a little sad, too.”

At that, my eyes found his. “Really?”

He nodded. “It’s okay, Eliza. It’s okay to be sad, to want more for us. I want more for us, too. I wish…”

He stopped, his next words seemingly strangled by emotion, and I squeezed his hand where he held me. His eyes looked longingly at the tree, and then he sighed, squeezing me once more before he stood.

“Wait here,” he said.

He disappeared into the bedroom, and I wrapped myself up as much as I could in my sweater, tugging it over my knees, too. Even with a beanie on that covered my ears, I was still shivering, and I missed the warmth of River’s arms around me.

When he returned, he held a large box in his hands — wrapped haphazardly in newspaper with a bow made out of shoestring. Moose hopped up and circled River with the box, trying to sniff at it.

I laughed when River sat it on the couch between us. “What is this?”

“It’s your Christmas gift,” he said with a shy smile. “I wanted to wait until tomorrow morning, but… well… I think tonight is better.”

My heart zipped with panic. “River! We said no gifts!” I shook my head, fingers running over the paper on the box. “I didn’t… I don’t have one for you.”

“Would you just open it, woman?”

I shook my head, pinching his side before I pulled at the first shoestring, and then the other, freeing the hold on the box. I peeled back the newspaper carefully, and then opened the box — the one that had held the space heater his dad bought for us when our heater broke.

Inside the box was a beautiful blanket.

It had the look of a quilt, with “patches” covering every inch of it, though they weren’t actually stitched on. It was the pattern, but it gave the look that each little square had been sewed and stitched together. The blanket was every shade of green and red imaginable, with little scenes playing out in each square — Santa on his sleigh, presents around a tree, baby Jesus in the manger, a snowman with a carrot nose. On and on, every square telling a story as I peeled the blanket out of the box, unfolding it as I did.

The blanket was massive — the largest one I’d ever seen. And it was heavy, lined with fleece. I marveled at the pictures and the colors as I pulled it out, until the entire thing rested in a heap over my lap, River’s, and the empty box between us.

“It’s beautiful,” I said with a smile, holding it to my chest. “And so warm.”

River smiled, setting aside the box between us and wrapping us both up in the new blanket. Its warmth was instantaneous, and it seemed to hold our body heat underneath it like a sauna. I cozied up inside it, tucking the edges under my legs and bum before leaning into River’s embrace.