Two days before Christmas
There aren’t a lot of things that I'm willing to admit having been a fool about. I live in a small town. I have a certain reputation to live up to. Foolish is not a good look for me. But there is a list (albeit a short one) and at the top of it is my wife. I’ve been a fool for her since the day we met.
In my defense, were both pretty young when we first crossed paths. Or, more accurately, I was pretty young. Scout, on the other hand, was very young. Unfortunately young. Young enough to lie about her age. And (one would think) young enough that I should have immediately seen through the lie. Which I didn’t—which goes back to my first point. In retrospect, it was probably a good thing that she left town when she did. Not that it felt that way, of course. And despite the lies, despite the betrayal, despite all the years we were apart, I never forgot her.
When she finally resurfaced, just over five years ago, we picked up right where we left off. And I don’t think I’m incorrect in saying that we’ve both been as happy as I always knew we could be.
Except at Christmas time. Which is crazy, right? I mean, who doesn’t like Christmas? Well…my wife, that’s who.
I blame my father-in-law. Not that I really knew the man. We met only once, back in the day, and I count myself lucky that he never found out about my relationship with his daughter. I’m sure he had his good points, but he didn’t provide his daughter with the most stable home life. Growing up the way she did, it seems the holidays were one disappointment after another for Scout. As of yet, she hasn’t been able to let that go. If I’m honest, I’m not sure she ever will.
Which is not to suggest that she doesn’t put on a good act. She’s a talented actress. She fakes Holiday Spirit the way some women fake orgasms—employing so much skill and enthusiasm that if I didn’t know her as well as I do, I’d almost believe that she was enjoying herself. But I’m not that big a fool. I’ve seen her grit her teeth when the topic of Christmas shopping is raised—and trust me, it’s not the money; she has plenty of that. I’ve seen her yawn her way through our extended-family gatherings. And I’ve seen how she rolls her eyes whenever I get busy decking her halls. And can I just say that she has some great halls to deck? Because man…
And no! That is not a euphemism. I’m talking about the house we live in. The gorgeous, Queen Anne not-quite-a-mansion that Scout inherited from her stepmom. A house whose halls were positively made to wear boughs of holly. Also tinsel, candles, strings of lights, and (obviously) mistletoe.
I like to think that, deep down inside, Scout likes the fact that there’s one of us who makes a big deal about the holidays. And that it doesn’t have to be her. And I know she appreciates the decorations once I’ve got them up. But I’ve also seen her sigh with relief when January rolls around. And I suspect she’s just as happy once the last of the baubles and bows have been packed away in the attic for the next ten-or-so months. Left to her own devices, I’m pretty sure she’d simply skip the whole process.
So, on the surface, this year is simply more of the same. And you might think that I shouldn’t be concerned about Scout’s customary lack of Holly Jollity. I am though. Because I can’t help feeling that something’s different this time around. I don’t know what, exactly, but something feels off.
Contains books 4 through 6:
A Taste of Honey
Touch of a Vanished Hand
It’s beginning to look a lot like NIX-mas!
Nick Greco is getting worried. His wife has never been a big fan of the holiday season, but this year she seems more distant than ever before. In fact, the last time that he can remember seeing her this distracted was right before their wedding—when she tried to back out of marrying him.
Can you get cold feet after the fact? Is Scout feeling overwhelmed by the holidays? Or underwhelmed by…gulp…him?
Whatever the cause, Nick has a plan. He’s going to spice up their marriage and put the heat back in the holidays. And when he’s done, Scout won’t be saying, “Bah Humbug!” She’ll be saying, “ho, ho…OH!”
No comments:
Post a Comment