Page 51 of A Storybook Wedding

I try to clear my throat. “Thanks. Go ahead. Open yours.” I’m smiling, and I feel like I wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face even if I tried.

“Well, wait. Come sit on the couch at least. We can be by the tree,” she laughs as she points at the diminutive pre-lit Christmas tree in the corner that stands all of three feet high, tops.

“That’s cute. Props to you for even decorating.” From my spot on her couch, I look out the sliding glass door into the darkness. All I can see is the reflection of the two of us, sitting on the couch, knees facing each other.

“You don’t decorate?”

“Nah. You should see my place. It’s very…I don’t know. Plain. I haven’t done much with it. Furniture’s comfy though. It’s much warmer here.” And it is—not temperature-wise specifically, but from an emotional standpoint. Not that I’m an emotional type of guy, mind you. Her apartment just reminds me a little of warm apple cider. Don’t read into it or anything. It’s just a metaphor.

“In this basement?” she asks.

“It feels homey. My place might be a lot of things, but homey’s not one of them. Anyway,” I say, gesturing at the gift. “Open.”

She gingerly takes the tissue paper out of the bag and peers inside. Then she pulls out the two things I bought her: a book light with a little owl on it and a pair of earplugs. “Aw,” she says, holding the book light. “This guy’s cute. And what’s this all about?” she asks, palming the earplugs.

“It’s really partly an apology gift,” I joke. “I’ve been told that I grind my teeth in my sleep.”

“Ex-girlfriend mention that?”

“Dentist,” I correct her. “I didn’t want to subject you to that for the next eight days. And the book light reminded me of you because of the owl.”

“You think I look like an owl?” she asks.

“Not in a bad way. I would say that an owl is probably your spirit animal though.”

“I’m choosing to take that as a compliment because it means you think I’m wise. Anyway, thank you. It’s a great gift. Very sweet,” she says. “Now you. Open yours.”

I peel back the paper carefully, like I don’t want to rip it. The box is smallish and flat, as if it would fit a bracelet or some other kind of jewelry. There’s no way she got me jewelry though. That would be too weird.

I pop the top of the box open.

It’s a pen.

“I had it engraved,” CJ says. “Look.” She points at the side of it.

TO PEN, WRITE BRILLIANT STUFF. LOVE, CJ.

“I hope you like it.”

I do. I love it. It’s sweet and simple and useful.

It’s perfect.

Words don’t come right away, so I just nod. My palms feel sweaty. Then I cough, clearing a pathway in my throat for a response. “It’s great. Thank you.”

She claps her hands like a giddy child. “Cool! I’m so glad. I even used that wretched nickname you like.”

“It’s a good nickname.”

“If you say so,” she smirks. “Anyway, come on. We better get going. Don’t want to miss our boat.”

I carefully fold the wrapping paper and put it in the box with my new pen. I pack the box in my laptop bag to keep it from getting tossed around in my luggage.

We carry our stuff to CJ’s car out front, and between her bags and mine, it’s like playing a game of Tetris to get it all to fit in her trunk. But we manage. We grab Dunkin’ at the twenty-four-hour drive-through and then head up to Point Judith, Rhode Island, because the Montauk ferry only runs in the summer. Along the way, we fill each other in about our holidays and family drama. I ask about Bryce, Jamie, and the triplets, and she tells me that Jamie’s already showing quite a bit. Her other sister, Melanie, is due a month before her, and Jamie’s already bigger than her. I want to ask more, but I decide not to.

The boat ride is rockier than we expect it to be, but we both hold it together—no vomiting today, thank you very much—and when we get to the terminal on Block Island, there’s a van there to meet us.

We’re early; faculty members are expected to be on the island in the morning so that when the students arrive in the later afternoon, they feel like the professors are already situated. CJ and I are showing up together because, as a married couple, that makes a whole lot more sense than if we were to come separately.

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