Page 46 of The Art of Being Merry
“No, don’t be. I didn’t mean it negatively. It’s part of your charm. If I’m allowed to admire your charm.” Here I go again—putting my foot in my mouth, saying things I definitely shouldnot be saying to this woman. She’s overwhelmed with responsibilities. She doesn’t need my shit.
Her smile is small. “I certainly can’t stop you from your opinions and feelings.” She stops short of adding more, and I’m dying to know what else she might say. Something about reciprocating the feelings.
Wow, way to project my feelings onto her.
She yawns, and I take it as my cue to leave. Really be on my way.
“Text me when you want me to come over so you can shop. The only time I can’t do is Saturday morning because I have a planning meeting for the holiday breakfast.” I’m sure glad I glanced at my calendar before I came here to know I’m busy.
“That’s open to everyone? Do you have to sign up, or can we just show up?”
“We sell tickets, but you can pay at the door. It’s December twenty-third at the elementary school. It’s a fun time.”
“I need to add it to my calendar. The boys will love it.”
“They will for sure. Beck goes above and beyond with everything. I thought I’d hate being roped into it, but surprisingly, we’ve worked together well for the last threeyears. I’m not sure I could give it up now.”
“Your brother’s a great guy. Willa’s very fortunate. She deserves all the happiness in the world.”
“And you, Clementine. You too.”
She shrugs one shoulder. “We’ll see. I’ve got my boys, who are pretty great.” A wistfulness encroaches in her tone. I wish I had the power to say with certainty not to give up, but who am I to presume such things?
“Thanks again for dinner.”
“No, thank you, Dax. For the help with the tree and the ornament. It’s priceless.” Her smile is exactly why I picked it out for her.
“You’re welcome. Glad you like it.” Despite my inclination to stay, I can’t, so I force myself to leave. “Text me. See you soon.”
I slip my feet into my boots and am on my way, leaving her to her own devices, the way it should be.
14
clem
It’s notuntil the weekend that I see Dax again. But that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been far from my mind. There’s something about him I can’t seem to shake, but in a good way. Everything I knew about him—from Willa, brief previous experiences in the last year, Willa’s wedding where he was best man and I was maid of honor—he’s shown me a different side of him in the last week, a side I wouldn’t expect hides under the outer layers of how he carries himself with the rest of the world. I almost can’t reconcile the two sides of his personality, and yet, I’m not sure I want to.
Since he’d already planned to go to the Santa meet and greet, I suggested Dax take the boys himself and I would go shopping, but he wasn’t having it.“This is too important for you to miss.”Until he said the words, it hadn’t occurred to me what I’d be missing out on.
I’ve taken the boys to meet Santa plenty of times in previous years, but something in his tone niggled my brain, and I couldn’t let it drop. And then I realized why—Atlas. He’s been going through something this year regarding Santa, getting to the point where he’ll stop believing soon. He’s questioning whether he’s real, and his hints about whether he’ll be able to find us this year haven’t quite sunk in. Except for Dax. Of all people, Dax understands the importance for my son to talk with Santa, to assuage his worries there will be presents under the tree, things off his list.
I’ve been so bogged down with client work, I didn’t see it myself, which is super odd because that’s how I felt growing up. Always asking for something and being disappointed about not getting it. I didn’t want that life for my kids. Not because I want them to lose the magic of Santa—that’s a small part of it—but because I didn’t want them to lose the magic of Christmas.
Ironic it’s Dax keeping it alive for them this year.
If I let it, I’d be crying from the guilt, the letting them down, the joy of the holiday evaporating because their parents didn’t come through. For as many years as Willa and I were disappointed on Christmas morning, Mom never showed any guilt. And she wasn’t good at hiding her emotions.
So, yeah. Dax was not letting me miss this.
At first, I thought maybe he wasn’t comfortable taking them on his own and was adamant I come. But when he added the “too important for me to miss,” I understood.
Not on his watch was I going to add more guilt to my plate. I could have kissed him when his text came through. It’s been good I haven’t seen him because I’m not sure I could have kept my mouth to myself.
I’m a little worried for what happens today, if I’ll be able to be on my best behavior and keep all my body parts to myself.
“Are you sure Dax said he’s picking us up? ‘Cause it’s getting late and I don’t want to miss out on meeting Santa. Maybe we should drive ourselves, just in case.” Atlas has been pacing the small confines of the living room for the last half hour. I get his worry, the concern, the anxiousness, and fear of missing out on something you want. I wish he’d stop asking, stop making me so anxious.
“He’ll be here, Attie. He hasn’t let you down yet.”
