Big Man For Christmas
And I feel…underwhelmed.
He seems smaller. Were his shoulders always that narrow? In my memory they seemed bigger. Was his hair always like that? Caked with so much product that it looks so stiff it could crack? Was his face always…pinched like this? I feel like I’m him seeing in an entirely new light—one that’s not shining with love and my own excuses.
Tyler pays the driver and drops his suitcase on the ground before practically running to me on the porch. The whole family is watching, and he knows it. He sweeps me off my feet and spins me around before setting me down on the ground and kissing my cheek. “I missed you.”
“Hi.”
My dad goes and picks up the suitcase while my mom grins. “We’ve got your room ready for you two. Carley, we’re moving you into the bigger guest room with Tyler.”
Of course she is. Now that I am doing what she wants, she will reward me. Guess it isn’t that big of a deal for the kids to sleep in the small bed after all.
“Are you hungry?” my mom asks Tyler, nearly pulling him into the house. I follow at a slower pace. I still don’t know how to feel. My emotions are both too much and too little at the same time, and I just end up with…nothing.
“I am hungry,” he says. “It was a long trip.”
“Perfect!”
In the dining room, there’s a large jug of sweet tea and the leftover rolls from lunch this afternoon—both things that Casey brought with him as a gesture of kindness. And now Tyler is consuming the rolls at an amazing pace, and all I can think about it that those rolls aren’t meant for him.
Jessica pulls me into the room and practically shoves me into the chair beside Tyler, whose arm falls around my shoulder like it’s the most natural thing. But it doesn’t feel natural anymore. It feels…awkward.
If we did what he said and went to couples’ therapy, would we be able to erase the friction between us? Would I ever be able to forget the fact that he wanted to try something different and liked it?
“How’s Chicago?” my mom asks as Tyler butters his second roll.
“Amazing as usual,” he says. “Couldn’t be going better. I think I’ll have some very, very good news at work before new year, and I can’t wait to get back to cozy nights hanging out with this one.” He pulls me close and kisses my temple. It doesn’t spark anything in me the way it once did.
“Oh,” Jessica asks. “What kind of things do you guys do?”
Tyler looks over at me and smiles. “We’re quiet people. We like to sit in front of the fire and watch TV. Sometimes we’ll go out to dinner and walk in the park.”
That’s hardly what we do. Our evenings would have us sitting in the same room—me on the couch, Tyler in an armchair—with the TV on. He would be working on his laptop and I would be reading a book. It wasn’t the cozy image he conjures of us curled up together, happily watching our favorite shows. And walking in the park was usually us just walking through the park to get back to our apartment because using the car and finding parking was too much trouble.
The image that he’s painting for them isn’t the reality. But it’s the one that I thought we had before everything fell apart. And the ease with which he paints that picture feels…slimy. Oily. I don’t like it.
Has he always been like this and I just didn’t see it? Am I letting the hurt from his actions paint my view or am I finally seeing clearly? I don’t know. All I feel is confusion and sadness.
Tyler keeps telling stories about us and our life, and I just sit there…listening to him talk. Until it’s time for everyone to go to bed. Tomorrow is the day before the fireworks, and the whole town will be here in the morning to set up the carnival, booths, and the fireworks themselves. Everyone needs to help. In some ways, it’s just as much or more fun than the fireworks themselves.
I head up to my room—our room—and see that my stuff has already been moved. Of course. There’s no chance that my mother would let there be the slightest hiccup now that my life is back on the course that she approves of.
My hand goes to the empty space on my finger, feeling the dent that’s still there. I haven’t even thought about it the last few days, because my thoughts have been full of something else. And that was amazing.
But I’m doing the right thing, right? I agreed to marry this man, and the least I can do is give him a chance to make it up to me if he’s truly sorry.