Page 31

“Y ou are driving Mom crazy,” Alex said to Rebecca two days before Christmas.

“It is not my intention to drive anyone crazy,” she said as she stroked her slight baby bump, sat on the couch at her family beach house, and watched the ocean outside.

If she wasn’t watching a movie, she was reading.

If she wasn’t reading, she was doing a puzzle.

Lately she’d started ordering things online for the baby.

Her priority was delivering a happy, healthy baby girl, and the rest of the world could go to hell.

It was King Tide, which meant the water was rough and the waves were big. Alex sounded exasperated on the phone. Poor Alex. He had lost his best friend, but that was overshadowed by her loss. She tried to be compassionate, but it didn’t come easily.

“You aren’t being logical.”

“Let me ask, do you think I give a damn what the family thinks?” Rebecca asked. She knew she was lashing out, and it was not becoming. “I’m skipping Christmas this year. End of story.”

“I will feel like our little talk didn’t matter if I can’t convince you to come home for the holiday,” he said, his tone sad.

“Look, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bite your head off.

I know the parents put you up to the call.

But as for Christmas, I would have to get presents for everyone, show up at the ornately decorated Stark Hotel in Portland, act like everything is wonderful, and make merry when I’ve lost the love of my life and am pregnant with his child. I can’t do it. I won’t do it.”

“I know it is a big ask, but I think it would be good for you. No one is expecting gifts, so why don’t you just bring yourself, and we will distract you? Or the two of us can distract each other.”

“No, I can’t do it. You do have an open invitation to come down here.

But a big family Christmas in Portland? That is ridiculous.

They can have Christmas, sing damn Christmas Carols for all I care, make cookies for Santa, I don’t care.

I just don’t want to be there. I don’t want to smile or be nice to anyone, okay? ”

“I’m sorry about Mitch, Rebecca.”

Rebecca felt bad. Alex had lost his best friend. “I’m sorry. I know you miss him too. I’m sorry I’m being a bitch. You’ve been great to me. I love you, bro.”

“Someday, some year from now, it won’t feel so raw.”

“Promise?” Rebecca asked.

“Guaranteed.”

On Christmas Eve, she drove eight miles to Waldport and bought everything she’d need for her mother’s Shepherd’s Pie, except she couldn’t stomach the idea of lamb or beef, so she bought near-beef.

It was supposed to be plant-based beef, but it looked a little disgusting, and even though she hadn’t thrown up in a week, all bets were off for the rest of the evening.

She bought a frozen French Silk pie that looked a little processed. Merry Christmas to her.

At the checkout line, she saw a box that contained a string of white lights. She bought it. It would be her ode to Christmas.

Driving home, she didn’t think she’d ever felt lonelier. If Mitch was alive, they would be with her family. And wouldn’t that have been fun, to have their first Christmas together and share a bed under her family’s roof? How many times while growing up had she fantasized about that?

She wondered what he would have given her this year. Probably something to celebrate the baby. They would be thinking about how to decorate the nursery for their little girl. Mitch would want to participate in the decorating because he was that kind of man.

She would have given him a really nice silk bathrobe, a few ties, and one specific Hermes tie with red hearts on a navy background that she had seen when they were exploring London as newlyweds.

There would have been a few books and the framed ultrasound photo of their baby girl.

He’d have been excited. Their baby would be his first blood relative since his mother died.

He would have made a wonderful father to their daughter.

She could see him teaching their little girl to ride a bike, bandaging a scraped knee, and hugging her as she cried.

Maybe he’d teach her some of his taekwondo moves so she could defend herself on the playground and in life.

She could see him explaining to their little girl in a few years that she was about to have a sister or brother, and it didn’t change how much Mommy and Daddy loved her.

And later, he’d tell her that her first crush was a jerk and that she deserved better.

That hadn’t been the case with Rebecca’s first crush, but then they weren’t typical.

Rebecca had to fight back a few tears. The sun was lowering on the horizon and caught her engagement ring, flashing a red spark, not green as she would have thought it would have.

She hadn’t thought of taking off the emerald. It meant too much. Eventually, she should get it sized for her right hand, she supposed. But she wasn’t ready. Hell, she hadn’t even been married six months yet, and here she was, a widow.

Reflexively, she touched her belly. Their little girl was in there, growing.

And in a few months, she’d have a little part of Mitch back.

All the fantasies she had about the little girl looking up to her father, being Daddy’s little girl, they weren’t going to happen.

The poor child would never know her father, but the people closest to Mitch would be there to tell stories and try to let their daughter know her father, even though he was dead long before she was born.

Halfway back to Yachats, Rebecca turned on her music. She needed a distraction, and she needed to stop thinking about Mitch, or soon she would be crying too hard to drive.

It was late afternoon when she arrived home, and after she put her groceries away, still having second thoughts about the plant-based beef, she focused on the little box of lights.

It had been such a stupid purchase. But it reminded her of the big tree her mother always got for their house in New York.

It had white lights on it, not colored lights that Alex and Rebecca preferred because her mother didn’t like the garish-colored lights.

The white lights, she said, reminded her of the sparkles in snow.

She supposed there was a big tree in their suite in Portland. Maybe next year she’d want to see it.

At Christmas, when she was a teenager, before she and Mitch were lovers, they had exchanged gifts because once he started coming home with Alex, he was part of the family. Her mother used to spoil him right along with her other children.

The gifts he gave to her always meant so much.

The first year, he’d given Rebecca a small iPod filled with music.

She’d almost worn it out, but she still had it.

Then, when she’d been fifteen, he’d taught her to drive, given her lessons for Christmas and a bejeweled keychain of a big “R,” with faux emerald Swarovski crystals on it. She still had it, too.

Then someone told him that she liked perfume.

She suspected her mother. Then he started giving her perfume, Samsara, and then Cartier.

Always red bottles. It didn’t matter what was inside of them.

The bottles were always red, just like the Bulgari he’d brought her from London.

Why had she never thought to ask him about the red bottles?

The perfume was always wonderful, but still, it was something she could put on her skin.

Every time she smelled it, she thought of Mitch.

Without knowing she was doing it, she sniffed her wrist, smelling the Bulgari that was there.

At the rate she was using it, she would have to buy another bottle in a month.

She’d keep the bottle Mitch brought her.

She’d never get rid of it, but she would buy additional bottles to keep the memory of the scent alive.

She thought of the gifts she’d given him over the years.

He’d kept them because she found them in his flat in London.

Each year, she’d given him books, and because he liked to read, especially about history, until he stepped it up to the perfume, then she’d done what she wanted to do.

She’d give him her favorite book of the year, and also something personal.

Something that he could wear and think of her.

The Wharton fleece had been a gift from her, as were several of the ties he wore during the time he worked in London.

They were nice ties when she bought them under the guise that he would need them for his upcoming interviews.

They were expensive at the time, but it said something to her that he’d kept them and was still wearing them.

While they’d been in bed after they’d gotten married, he admitted to wearing the Hermes burgundy tie that had little dragons on it with his navy suit during their first Zoom call because he was thinking about her. He hoped she’d recognize it, and she had.

Her landline rang and interrupted her thoughts of Christmas past. She snarled a little. It was no doubt her mother, who called twice a day, morning and night.

She picked up the phone and said, “Hello, Mother.”

“Good guess, darling. How are you today?”

“Just as fine as I was fine this morning when you called. Nothing has changed, and you?”

“Well, you will have to forgive me if we lose each other. We are driving in a spotty area,” Victoria complained.

“The West Hills, huh?” Rebecca asked, wondering why her mother had not waited until she got home to call. The west hills of Portland were notorious for spotty cellphone coverage.

“No, darling. Highway 101,” her mother said.

“What?” Rebecca asked. This was not funny.

“Surprise. If you don’t come home to see your family, your family will come to you. Ah, we are just turning into your driveway. See you in a minute.” Then her mother hung up on her before Rebecca could say another word.