Page 88 of When Ben Loved Tim

I watch him go before plugging in the tree, taking note of the generic decorations. The branches of ours droop with decades of homemade ornaments. I place my gift with all the others and sniff, noticing an earthy scent. I pluck a needle, impressed that it’s real, when we’ve used the same plastic tree my entire life. I open the curtains before doing the same in other rooms around the house. Then I join Tim in the kitchen, turning on the radio there and bumping him aside with my butt so I can prepare a plate. I don’t need to ask if he’s hungry. There’s nothing but an unwashed cereal bowl in the sink. I sing while working, Tim’s expression happier each time I glance over. This feels good. And familiar. I’m taking care of him again!

We sit at the dining room table, although he’s the only one eating. I light the candles. Christmas music drifts in from the kitchen while I bore him with the details of my day as he eats. Tim seems to enjoy hearing about it anyway, which prompts me to ask, “So what are the holidays usually like for you? I mean, your parents don’t always go out of town. Do they?”

“Nah,” Tim says. “When I was growing up, we’d usually go over to my grandpa’s place. And boy, if you think my parents are too religious…” He shudders theatrically. “We each had to take turns reading Bible verses. Visiting him was like going to church, but even less fun. Which is probably why everyone went their separate ways after he died.”

“They did?”

Tim nods. “My dad’s side of the family doesn’t get together much anymore.” He pushes his plate away and stretches, the maroon sweater he wears bulging with muscle when he relaxes again. He notices me staring and puts on bedroom eyes. “So… What should we do now?”

“I’ve got something for you to unwrap,” I reply flirtatiously, despite having no intention of sleeping with him just yet. I’m too nervous about the present I picked out for him. Because it’s heartfelt. And invasive. Just like me!

I take his plate to the kitchen, dodging him when he tries to embrace me so I can take off down the hall. He gives chase, finally catching me in the living room. The sun is on the horizon, the room awash in a warm orange glow. I turn around for a kiss before gently pushing him away.

“There’s something under the tree with your name on it.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks.

“Yup.” I kneel on the skirt, reaching for the present I brought when I notice another gift tag with his name on it. “Are you waiting until your parents come back to open these?” I ask.

“Nah,” Tim says as if disinterested.

“This one is for you too,” I say, checking more of the gift tags. “Most of them are!”

“Yeah, I know. My mom was worried about me having a good Christmas on my own.”

But not worried enough to actually stay, it would seem. Regardless, having absentee parents would be bad enough without reaping the rewards. “Your mom is going to be sad if she comes home and everything is still wrapped. Or is that the point?”

Tim shakes his head. “I don’t want to upset her. It just seemed lame to sit here and open stuff by myself.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m here,” I say, setting the present I got him toward the back. “What’s in the big box here?”

“I dunno,” Tim says, sitting next to me. “Let’s find out. Go for it.”

I’m genuinely excited when I unwrap the present and find a new stereo system. After marveling over it, I pass him a gift while unwrapping another. And so it continues. He gets cologne, some new clothes, cash, and the latest video game console. Among other things. Pretty soon we’re surrounded by discarded wrapping paper.

“Hey,” Tim says, handing me a long flat box. “This one has your name on it.”

When I take the gift from him, I can feel something soft shifting around inside. An item of clothing maybe? I can’t imagine what he would buy me, but I waste no time in finding out. After tearing off the paper, I open a plain white box, revealing emerald-green fabric. “It’s so soft!” I say, running my hands along it. “And I love the color. What is it though?” I run out of room when trying to unfold it and have to stand. Then I gasp. “You bought me a coat?”

Tim nods. “Try it on.”

I hold it away from me first, admiring the long cut and large black buttons. I’ve never owned anything so stylish! When I put it on, the coat hugs my hips nicely before ending just above my knees. Tim stands and moves closer to me. He adjusts the collar and smooths down the lapels. I’m naturally drawn to him while he works, leaning forward. Tim notices. He smirks and smooches me before taking a few steps back. “How’s it feel?” he asks.

“Like a perfect fit,” I say, shaking my head in wonder. “How’d you manage that?”

“I just got lucky,” he says with a shrug.

Not a chance. It’s all in the way he looks at me, like he’s doing now, sizing up proportions and angles in a way that I’m incapable of, because I’m not an artist. I imagine him walking through a department store while thinking of me and the time it must have taken to make a selection.

“I knew it would look good with your hair,” he says, moving close again to ruffle it. “What do you think?”

“I’m in love,” I say, putting so much emotion into the words that I hope he’ll realize I mean more than just the coat.

“Good,” he says while doing up the buttons. “Because I lost the receipt. Oh, and there’s one more thing.”

“No!” I say, already overwhelmed.

“It’s nothing big,” he says, handing me a small gift bag.