Page 78 of The Christmas Spirits on Tradd Street
My mother regarded me with solemn eyes but didn’t say anything.
I grabbed the stroller handle. “Let’s go look at the Christmas tree. Maybe it will give me a few ideas on how to ‘zhush’ the trees in my house for the progressive dinner. They’re looking kind of skimpy.”
We walked in silence around the display toward the enormous tree, JJ fretting because we were leaving the choo-choo train behind, his frustration matching my own as the ability to identify and grasp the one thing I wanted evaded me.
“Mellie?” my mother said quietly.
I faced her. “Yes?”
“I know we didn’t find anything in the bedpost. But there’s something there. I felt it too strongly. Have you told Jack?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t see a need since there was nothing there.”
“I think you need to tell him. Maybe he can figure it out. Because there is definitely something there.”
I nodded noncommittally, returning my focus to the Christmas tree and all the sparkling ornaments, pretending I couldn’t sense my mother’s stare of disapproval burrowing within me, where my conscience lay sleeping.
CHAPTER 27
I lay back on my pillow panting as Jack’s bare arm pulled me against his similarly clad body. General Lee was burrowing somewhere in the room, having sought a quieter place to sleep earlier in the night. I’d forgotten the one form of relaxation and de-stressing that Jack enjoyed besides furniture arranging, and I was grateful that he’d remembered.
“Wow,” he said, kissing my neck.
“I was about to say the same thing. I’m guessing that was enough aerobic exercise that I can skip my jog this morning, right?”
“Nice try.” He gave my earlobe a nibble, sending shivers down my back. “It’s almost six o’clock and time for my run. You could join me.”
I turned my head and opened up one eye. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Jayne said your stamina has really improved and you’ve increased your pace. You should be very proud of yourself. She says you’re on track for the Bridge Run in April.”
I turned away at the mention of Jayne’s name, recalling my conversation with my mother. And Sophie. I wasn’t saying that they were wrong, but I certainly wasn’t agreeing that they were right. My feelingsabout Jayne were far more complicated than what they were implying, and something I needed to figure out on my own without everyone offering advice. “I’m thinking about taking up yoga instead.”
Jack’s chest rumbled against my back as he chuckled. “You tried that with Sophie, remember? Before the twins were born. You said every time you closed your eyes and tried to open your mind, some lost spirit would wander in.”
“Yeah, well, at least it doesn’t hurt my knees. I think I’m too old to run. Yoga’s more my speed. Or maybe I’ll try Pilates. I don’t think that involves any meditation.”
He was kissing my neck again, and I felt my brain slowly melting. “Pilates sounds good. It could make you even more flexible.” The way he said the wordflexiblemade it sound dirty.
I rolled in his arms to face him, placing my palms against his cheeks and enjoying the warm scratchiness of his beard. “I’m so glad you’re feeling better.”
He pulled away slightly, his eyes darkening. “Better? I wasn’t aware that I was feeling poorly.”
Too late, I realized my mistake. “I meant, I know how upset you’ve been with the whole publishing nightmare and Marc Longo bribing us to agree to film in our house, and the rest of it. You’ve been really down lately, but you don’t seem to be in such a dark place this morning.”
He let go of me and lay on his back, his arms folded beneath his head. “Dark place? Have you been watchingStar Warswith Nola and Cooper?”
I could tell he was trying to dismiss my worry, but I was a mother now, my worry not easily waved away. “You’ve just been a bit down, that’s all. And with your history...”
“As a drunk?”
I leaned up on my elbow so I could look him in the face. “That’s not what I was going to say. You’re a recovering alcoholic, and I know from my dad that it will be something you will need to confront every day for the rest of your life. But I’m here, Jack. If you feel the need to talk with someone...”
Before I was even aware of him moving, he’d flipped me over on my back, his frame pressing me into the mattress, his blue eyes staring intomine, and I was reminded again of his powers of persuasion and how he knew just what it took to distract me.
“I find you irresistible when you’re trying to be serious.”
“But I am serious,” I said, trying not to focus on the heat of his bare skin against mine, or how I knew it was all intentional. “I’m worried that all this pressure is affecting you....”
