Linebacker’s Second Chance(77)

I nod slowly, and he hands me the first package. “Okay. I guess I can accept that. I just get a little squirrelly when someone buys me gifts that I didn’t ask for. Call me suspicious.”





“Suspicious. Now look at those. I don’t know much about shoes and shit, except for Uggs, but Marlena says they’re real nice.” I open the box and see heels in a dark blue satin.





“These are Louboutins.” My jaw drops ever so slightly.





“Marlena said they were what you needed to have. And she said that they were pretty comfortable. Well made and all that shit. But you really need to try them on with the dress. I didn’t have much to say about that one either. I just said you really liked that blue painting in your room. I told her she needed to match that as best she could.” He slides the next package into my lap, and I put the shoes down next to me feet. The open box looks ridiculous next to my pink Chucks, but my blood is tingling at the idea of wearing Louboutins. Since the fertility treatments, I’ve bought exactly two pairs of shoes, and one of those pairs is currently on my feet. I haven’t slipped my foot into anything more expensive than kicks since I became a human pincushion four years ago.





Carefully, I lift up the top of the box to reveal a dress made of raw silk, its bodice layered with dark blue lace and beads. The skirt is full and long, the fabric perfectly reflecting the colors that are in the painting in my room upstairs. The blues blend together just like they do in the painting, and the dark blues echo the other colors in the room. I purse my lips together, and tears start to come to my eyes. “Hats off to Marlena,” I say. “This is—this is amazing.” I look up at Rowan, and I’m sure I look a fool, and a dirty, paint-covered one at that. But his eyes don’t show me that. What they show is pure bliss at giving a gift.





“Merry Christmas.”





“It’s December 14th.”





“Still, Merry Christmas. But I saved the best for last. Go on and open that last box.”





“What did you get me? What could top this? Beaded Spanx to go with my dress?” He bursts out laughing and shoves the last box into my arms.





“Spanx are those girdle things, right? You don’t need one of those. My God, woman.” He shakes his head. I start giggling again, but before I get carried away, I take the top off of the last box. Inside is a shoebox.





“No, you didn’t.”





“You always come down here in the mornings without any damn shoes on, and then you tuck your feet up under Eliza in her bed, or you complain that you’re cold. We got a winter storm coming too, day after the fundraiser. So I can’t trust the electricity to stay on in this house, and the generator doesn’t hook up to the main heat supply. We’ve got the gas fireplace on the second floor, but that doesn’t do any good on the floors. Could be just as cold as hell when that snow dumps down here.”





I lift the top of the box to see bright pink suede with thick, puffy wool peeking out of the sides. They’re not quite like Rowan’s slippers, more like the moccasins my dad wears when he’s working at home. “Oh my God. These are…”





“‘Insanely hideous?’ That’s what Marlena said. But it’s like wearing a hug on your foot. And I figured since you got those pink sneaks, you might want slippers to match.”





“They’re awful. And awesome. Thank you.” I smile wide and kick off my Chucks. I slip the Uggs on over my socks and to my surprise, I breath a sigh of relief. The chill of the day had made my feet even colder than I realized, and I had never imagined just how good it would feel to have wool encasing my feet. “Wow,” I say. “I know I gave you shit before—”





“Only a very slight amount of shit, don’t worry. My ex—” Rowan stops and looks down and to the side. “We’re not here to stir up her shoe insults. I think she thought a rich man should wear exactly what she imagined. Not that I gave any shits about what she thought I should wear. But hell, she was hard to please.”





I cross my legs on the chair I’m sitting in and pet the slippers. They were maybe $150, nothing to a man like that, and certainly far less expensive than the dress and the heels. But Marlena didn’t pick these out—Rowan did. They’re bright and garish, and very, very warm. I try to rack my brain and remember if Eli had ever gotten me anything besides a gift card for Christmas. If he did, the memory never stuck.





But now, looking down at my feet, I see that this is a moment I won’t soon forget.