Jenny Plague-Bringer(54)
Her digital Christmas song list played at random on the stereo, jumping from Bonnie Raitt singing “Merry Christmas Baby” to John Lennon’s “Happy Christmas.”
She made hot chocolate, another smell that reminded her of Christmas. Her father had made it for her, usually by mixing Valu Time chocolate-flavored syrup with Piggly Wiggly brand milk and heating it in the microwave. He did that even in those years when December in South Carolina had felt like early summer. Now she made it with fresh-grated dark and white chocolate from La Maison du Chocolat. She wished her father were here to try it.
Jenny looked out at the boulevard below, where thousands of tiny golden lights glowed on strings as far as she could see and the lamp posts were hung with green garlands. The sun slid out from behind the clouds, making the city’s blanket of snow sparkle. Few cars passed, and everyone who walked by seemed beautiful to her, even the hacking old man hunched over his walker, escorted by two excited young kids who must have been his grandchildren.
She heard Seth approaching in his sock feet, probably trying to sneak up on her. He found that hilarious for some reason.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, sliding his arms around her waist. He felt strong and warm against her back.
The sky darkened, and their ghostly, transparent reflections appeared in the window pane. Jenny found herself looking at her own face and Seth’s sleepy, smiling face behind her. Their child growing inside her.
This is it, Jenny realized. This moment is the happiest I’ll ever be. The baby will die, and I’ll hate myself, and Seth will probably hate me, too, if he finds out. Nothing will ever be the same.
Jenny watched her own eyes fill up with tears, until her vision turned blurry and she had to wipe them. Stupid hormones.
“What’s wrong?” Seth asked.
She turned to look at him, smiling as she touched his face. “Merry Christmas,” she whispered, and she kissed him. Then she leaned in against him, hugging him with all her strength, as if she could stop the future from coming if she clung tightly enough to the present.
“Are you sad because we haven’t opened presents yet?” Seth asked, which made her laugh.
“I was just thinking about my dad.” She wiped her eyes again, and she’d managed to swallow back the tears and put on a smile.
“Yeah, that’s hard.” He hugged her back just as tightly. “I think about my parents waking up in a silent house on Christmas morning. They’ve lost both their sons now, Carter and me.”
They were quiet for a minute, holding each other. Then Seth asked, “So...can we open presents now?”
“Yes, please!” Jenny dropped to her knees by the tree, looking over the bright packages and ribbons.
“Me first,” Seth said, joining her and picking up a present, which he handed to her. “By which I mean you first.”
Jenny smiled as she tore it open. The cardboard box inside held a wide selection of DVDs, all of her favorite holiday movies, from the old stop-motion Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer that she had watched on TV every year, to the Muppet Christmas Carol, all the way to Scrooged with Bill Murray.
“Awesome!” Jenny said. “I missed seeing these last year.” Their first Christmas in Paris had caught them almost by surprise, and they’d done little to remind themselves of home.
“And I remembered you saying that.” Seth tapped the side of his head. “Thoughtful. Good listener. Yep.”
“Here, open this.” Jenny handed him the biggest package with his name on it.
Seth ripped it apart, revealing a box full of plain socks.
“Remember how you complained about wanting more socks last Christmas?” Jenny asked.
“Did I?”
“See if there’s anything else in there.”
Seth moved the socks aside and found the new Kindle Fire hidden underneath. “Oh, cool!”
“Now you can read any book you want, anytime you want,” Jenny told him.
“This is the one that plays movies, too, right?”
“I guess.”
“That makes me want to give you this one next.” Seth passed her a small box wrapped in satiny red paper.
“Looks sexy.” Jenny unwrapped it—it was sexy, a very revealing piece of lingerie held together by thin, lacy black straps. “Ooh, a dominatrix outfit!”
“It is not!”
“Just add leather,” Jenny said. “And I’ll need handcuffs.”
“I even got the size right this time. I checked your underwear drawer first.”
“And how long did you spend in there?”
“Ha, ha. Why don’t you try it on?”
“I’m sure you’d like that,” Jenny snickered.