Married for Christmas (Willow Park) (12 page)

A church member had given them the tree, and it was a really
good Fraser Fir they’d set up in the living room near the fireplace.

When everything was prepared, she waited impatiently for
Daniel to get back. The living room was cozy, and the evening was cold. With
the festive music and all the ornaments surrounding her, it really felt like
the holidays.

Daniel came in a few minutes later. He wore black trousers
and a dress shirt, since he always wore something decent for church events. He
grinned at her as he walked in and reached down to grab four of the cookies as
soon as he saw them.

He ate them all, one after the other. They were obviously
good, since he didn’t have to make a pretend face of enjoying them.

She laughed and shook her head at his appetite. “Do you want
to change clothes?”

“Nah. No need. I don’t think it should take too long to get
this done.”

Well, that wasn’t too promising. She’d been hoping they
could make a whole evening out of it—really spend time together and enjoy the
holiday spirit.

She told herself not to be disappointed, since he clearly
didn’t know she’d built up the evening in her mind. “Okay,” she said casually.
“Just don’t blame me if you get glitter on your pretty shirt.”

He glanced down at his French blue shirt. “Pretty?”

She giggled at his expression and got up to grab the lights.

Everything went smoothly. They didn’t squabble or get bogged
down in annoyances. Nothing awkward or tense occurred. Daniel was kind of quiet,
though.

She tried to think of funny things to talk about, thinking
he might be hit by poignant memories of decorating Christmas trees with Lila, and
he started to smile more.

Pleased he was warming up, Jessica’s excitement built up
again, but then his phone rang. He glanced at the screen before he took it.

She could tell something had happened, just by the tone of
his voice.

She resigned herself to the end of the evening when he said,
“I’ll be over there as soon as I can.”

When he hung up, she gave him a questioning look.

“Paul Hanson had a heart attack.”

“Oh no,” she gasped, forgetting her own disappointment. “Is
he all right?”

“He’s still alive. They’ve taken him to the hospital. I
should get over there.”

“Of course. Leave right now. Do you want me to go with you?”

“No. There’s nothing for you to do, so you might as well stay
here and finish this up.”

She blinked. “Oh. We can do it later—”

“No. It’s fine. You finish up. I’m not sure what time I’ll
be back.”

“Okay. Call and let me know how he is, and let me know if I
can do anything for Rachel.”

He left, and Jessica slumped to the couch, looking at the
partly decorated tree.

It was fine. This was part of being a pastor. You got called
at any hour of the day when an emergency happened to someone in your
congregation.

Daniel didn’t have a choice, and she certainly didn’t begrudge
his responsibilities.

It would have been nice if he’d wanted her to wait so he
could finish decorating the tree with her, but that was no big deal.

She might be married, but that didn’t mean she would have
warm, happy, holiday evenings.

She really should know better by now.

***

The next day Paul was doing
better—still in the hospital but evidently not about to die.

Jessica worked all day, and Daniel spent some time at the
hospital and the rest of the time in his office. In the evening, he had a new member’s
class at the church, which had dinner as part of it, so she didn’t even get to
have dinner with him.

She decided to have a nice evening by herself. Even if she
couldn’t hang out with him, she could enjoy a cozy time on her own, with just
Bear for company. She’d lived many years by herself, and she didn’t need a man
to enjoy an evening.

She straightened the room up and turned on the lights on the
Christmas tree. She was settling down to read, but then decided to build a
fire. A church member had brought over a load of firewood for them, so she
brought some logs inside.

She knew how to build a fire. Her mom had made them all the
time when she was a girl. So she set up the logs and then lit the fire without
any sort of problem.

It started easily, and the fire soon blazed merrily.

It made the room cozy and festive, especially with the lit tree.

She was very pleased with the result, and she stretched out
on the couch to read with some cocoa. After a while, she coughed a few times
but didn’t immediately notice what was making her cough.

On her fourth cough, she put down her ereader.

Something was wrong.

Smoke was starting to hang around the fireplace, where it
really shouldn’t be.

She knew she’d opened the damper to the correct position, so
she had no idea what might have happened.

She went outside to see if she could see any smoke coming
out of the chimney, and she didn’t see anything.

When she went back inside, the smoke was starting to waft
around the living room.

She ran to open the windows and the sliding glass door that
led to the deck, so the smoke would have somewhere to go.

It wasn’t a big deal. Sometimes fireplaces smoked a little.
She’d just let the fire die down, and it would be fine.

But the fire was burning hotter than ever, and the smoke kept
getting worse.

She coughed as she stood frozen for far too long, trying to
figure out what to do.

She felt helpless, paralyzed, like the fire would simply overwhelm
her.

Then she realized she was being stupid. She didn’t need to
wait for the fire to die down naturally. There must be a fire extinguisher
somewhere in the house. She checked the closet where they kept household tools.
She checked the kitchen—under the sink, in the pantry, then in every cabinet.
She ran upstairs and checked the bedrooms, but she couldn’t find one.

The smoke was getting worse. She started to panic.

What if, in her stupidity, she actually burned the house
down?

It was a ridiculous thought. A fire safely in the fireplace
was not going to burn the house down, no matter how much smoke it produced.
Thus relieved by logic, she ran for her phone as she kept looking around for
the fire extinguisher.

Daniel answered on the fourth ring. “What’s wrong?” he asked
by way of greeting. He would know she wouldn’t bother him during a class unless
there was an emergency, and there was concern in his tone.

“Nothing,” she said. “I mean, it’s not an emergency. It’s
just…Sorry, I shouldn’t have interrupted you.”

“Jessica, tell me what’s going on.” His voice snapped, but
it was obviously from urgency.

“Don’t we have a fire extinguisher somewhere?” she asked.
Then she had the brainstorm to check the garage and found one on a shelf just
outside the door. “Never mind,” she said, wishing she hadn’t called him. “Sorry
to bother you.”

“Wait, what’s going—”

She’d already hung up the phone now and ran into the living
room to put out the fire.

It extinguished quickly—if messily—and Jessica breathed a
sigh of relief when the blaze died. The room was still smoky, but at least new
smoke wasn’t billowing in anymore.

She heard the sound of the front door open, but she didn’t
have time to process what it meant before Daniel’s voice boomed out. “Are you
okay? What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she gasped, whirling around in surprise. “What
are you doing here?”

He scanned the room, taking in the smoke and the fireplace.
“You called to ask about a fire extinguisher. What did you expect me to do?”

“You didn’t have to come back.” She was mortified that she’d
pulled him away from his church responsibilities for something so absurd. There
had never been a more incompetent wife in the history of the world. “I had it
under control.”

He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, obviously
rubbing away smoke. He still looked like he was in crisis mode, his shoulders
tense and his posture poised. “I didn’t know that.”

“Sorry to scare you. The fireplace is broken or something. I
don’t know what happened.”

He finally relaxed as he evidently processed the situation. “Well,”
he said, smiling at her fondly, adorably, “there’s this little thing called a
damper. And, when you light a fire, you want to make sure—”

“I had it opened! I’m not completely stupid. Go look and
see.”

He walked over to check, coughing a few times at the
lingering smoke, and then raised his eyebrows. “It is opened. Something must be
broken.”

He stuck his head practically into the fireplace to look up
the chimney, and she made a startled exclamation and dragged him back. “Watch
it. It’s still hot in there.”

“It must be broken.”

“We can get it fixed this week. You can go back to church.
Sorry to pull you away.” Her fingers curled around his arm, and she loved how
strong and solid he felt beneath her hands.

“It’s fine. They just took a few minutes’ break. It’s
freezing in here.”

“I had to open the windows for the smoke.” She coughed again
and wiped the tears from the smoke off her face.

Daniel frowned at her in concern. “Well, go put another
sweatshirt on. You’ll be too cold in here.”

“I’ll be fine. You can go back.”

“I don’t want to leave you here in a freezing, smoky house.”

“I’m fine. I’ll keep blowing it out. The fire is out now, so
it will go away soon. There’s no emergency.”

“The fire extinguisher should have been in a better place. I’ll
get a couple more of them tomorrow.”

“Okay. You can do that tomorrow. But, Daniel, all those
prospective new members took time out of their Thursday evenings to attend this
class, so you need to go back to them now.”

“Yeah. Right.” He was still eyeing in concern the room,
slightly less smoky now.

“What did you tell them when you left, anyway?”

“Nothing.”

He looked slightly sheepish.

“You told them you had to go keep me from burning the house
down, didn’t you?”

She could see from his expression that he’d said something
very close to that.

She smiled ruefully. “It’s fine. This time wasn’t my fault.”

“That’s right. Just an unfortunate accident.” His mouth
tightened in a familiar way.

“You can laugh if you want.”

“I don’t want to laugh.”

“Yes, you do.” She pushed him toward the door into the
garage. “Now go back. Hopefully, it will be less smoky when you get home.”

She spent another hour trying to clear the room of smoke.
Eventually the smoke was gone, although the smell lingered.

There was no cozy evening when Daniel got back. He’d stopped
on his way home to buy four fire extinguishers, and he spent the rest of the
evening trying to figure out what was wrong with the damper.

Jessica eventually gave up and went to take a long shower,
trying to wash the smoke out of her hair.

She was exhausted and freezing and her throat hurt as she
crawled into bed. She’d dried her hair as much as she had energy for, but it
was still slightly damp.

She read until Daniel came up and took a shower too.

When he got into bed, he turned his head toward her. “Are
you okay?”

“Fine. Does my hair still smell like smoke?”

He leaned over and smelled. “No.”

“Liar. I keep smelling smoke.”

“It’s your imagination.”

She grumbled and turned the light off.

A few minutes later, she heard repressed chuckling from his
side of the bed. “What are you laughing at?” she demanded.

“Nothing.”

“Is it my pitiful attempt at a roast or my almost burning
down the house?”

“A little of both.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle too. “It hasn’t been a very
good week for me, I guess.”

He rolled over until he was almost on top of her. His voice
took on a particular resonance she was starting to recognize—one she only heard
in the bedroom when the lights were off. “I think it’s been a very exciting
week.”

“Well, I’m here for your amusement.”

“Glad to hear it.”

He was still laughing when he kissed her.

A few minutes later, when they’d both gotten excited and
urgent, he asked in baffled frustration, “How many sweatshirts do you have on?”

The following evening, after dinner,
Daniel went into his study to work.

After straightening up the kitchen, Jessica walked down the
hall and stared at his closed door.

There wasn’t anything wrong with his getting some work done
in the evening. He didn’t owe her anything except respect and faithfulness. She
shouldn’t expect for their practical marriage to turn into something
romantic—just because she was wanting it more and more.

It felt wrong, though. Like he was hiding from her. Like he
was hiding from life. Like this was his way of clinging to certain things he
couldn’t yet let go of.

Glancing down at Bear, who was wagging her tail eagerly with
her nose to the crack of the door, wanting to get at the person inside the
room, Jessica felt a sudden swell of frustrated impatience.

She wanted to shake Daniel. To tell him to just get over it,
to get it together. Life went on, and nothing worthwhile could be gained by
wallowing in grief or wishing for something that could never happen—like his
dead wife coming back to him.

She wasn’t a fool, though. That simply wasn’t how people
worked. It wasn’t how grief worked.

No one could just shake themselves out of it.

“No, I think it’s a good idea,” Daniel said from inside the
study. His voice was muffled but audible. He must be on the phone. “I think we
can definitely plan something like that.”

There was a pause, during which the other person must have
spoken. Then Daniel continued, “Good. Just make sure you include other women in
the church in planning it. Actually, you might ask Jessica. She’d be great at
it.”

Jessica was surprised, since she couldn’t think of any sort
of church event that she would be great at planning. Maybe he was just
continuing his mission to get her more involved and to act more like a typical
pastor’s wife.

“No,” Daniel said. “You can’t assume things like that. She
could really help. She’s brilliant. Seriously—she’s one of the smartest people
I know, and I’m not just saying that because I’m married to her. She’s quiet,
and she never puts herself out there, but that doesn’t mean she can’t
contribute. Not everyone is comfortable jumping into new situations, so you
need to make an extra effort to include them. Ask her. I guarantee she’ll
really be able help.”

Jessica realized she was standing the hallway, shamelessly
eavesdropping on a conversation that wasn’t intended for her. She quickly
walked back to the kitchen, feeling strange and confused.

She wasn’t sure if she was touched that Daniel was making
such a point of her being smart and capable, or if she was uncomfortable that
he was throwing her into the game when she much preferred watching from the
sidelines.

“Looks like it’s just us this evening,” Jessica said to
Bear, trying to distract herself from the strange feeling. “What should we do?”
She felt kind of lonely and heavy, like she wanted to mope.

It was stupid, but she’d never imagined she would be lonely
after she got married.

Bear had flopped down on the floor as soon as they’d entered
the kitchen, but now she sat up at Jessica’s voice and begged.

“Food, huh?” Jessica glanced into the living room at the lit
Christmas tree. It was only seven on a Friday evening, and Christmas was coming
soon.

She might as well do something fun and productive, whether
Daniel wanted to do it with her or not. She checked the cabinets, pulling out
ingredients for the one thing she really knew how to make well.

Every year about this time, her mother would make caramel
corn and fill decorated jars with it to give as Christmas presents.

She didn’t have enough ingredients to make it for presents,
but she could at least make one batch to eat.

It had always been one of her favorite times growing up,
making caramel corn with her mother. She turned on some Christmas music and
sang with the songs as she worked.

She was feeling better when the batch was done, and she even
braved the fireplace again.

The damper had been fixed yesterday, so this time the blaze
ignited to create a cozy ambience instead of a smoky room.

She’d poured herself a glass of wine and put some of the
finished popcorn in a bowl to carry into the living room when she glanced back
down the hall.

She didn’t have to shake him out of his brooding. She could
just invite him to come out. If he rejected her, then he rejected her. It
wasn’t the end of the world.

And she was somehow sure that hiding in his study wasn’t
good for him right now.

She tapped on his door and opened it when he answered.

He was sitting at his desk but not working on the computer.
It looked like he was just reading. He’d obviously finished the phone call.

“You can read out in the living room, you know,” she said,
making a point of not glancing over to the photo of Lila that was sitting on
his desk.

He raised his eyebrows.

“You don’t have to, but you can if you want. I won’t disturb
you. I made a fire, and it’s really nice in there. Plus, there’s caramel corn.”

She kept her voice light as she smiled at him. “Just come on
out if you want any.”

She was pleased with the attempt as she left the study, but
then she glanced down at herself. She wore a gray sweatshirt with red and black
plaid flannel pants.

She really should have worn something more flattering if
she’d wanted to lure her husband out of his study. She was absolutely terrible
at being attractive. Most of the time, she didn’t even remember to check the
mirror.

Nothing to do about it now, though. He’d already seen her in
her baggy clothes.

She’d settled on the couch with her laptop on her lap and
the bowl of caramel corn on the couch cushion beside her when Daniel appeared.

She smiled at him in surprise.

“You said there was caramel corn,” he said by way of
explanation.

She couldn’t help but laugh. “There is.”

He sat down beside her and grabbed a handful. “Just like
your mom’s,” he said, when he’d mostly chewed his first bite.

She was ridiculously pleased by the sentiment.

“Do I get any wine?” he asked, when she raised her glass to
take a sip.

“You do if you haul yourself up to pour a glass.”

She was just teasing and didn’t mind getting him a glass,
but he beat her to it, heaving himself back to his feet with a chuckle.

He returned to sit on the same spot, with just the bowl of
caramel corn between them.

Jessica did her best not to feel ridiculously giddy. It
shouldn’t have been a big deal, but getting him out of his study tonight felt
like a victory.

“What are you reading?” she asked, when he picked up his
book. “Don’t tell me Bonheoffer.”

“It’s just some background reading on Acts.”

She knew his next sermon series would be on the book of Acts.
“You should read something just for fun.”

“Bonheoffer is for fun.”

Rolling her eyes, she muttered, “You’re just weird.”

He seemed to be hiding a smile. “And what are
you
doing that’s so normal?”

She glanced at the screen of her laptop. “Just going over
some work. Nothing too intense.”

“You shouldn’t be working so late.”

She snorted at the appalling irony of that statement, but
she answered, “I spent the afternoon with Mom, so I actually have time I need
to make up.”

“I thought you could work some at your mom’s.”

“Sometimes I can, but she was pretty lucid today. She kept
wanting to talk.”

He smiled for real, obviously sensing how pleased she was by
this fact. “What did she talk about?”

“Old times. She likes to rehearse. She told me the story of
your breaking her window with the baseball about four times.”

He gave an exaggerated groan. “I’m never going to live that
down.” He paused for a moment before he added, “I used to love when she made
caramel corn.”

“I know you did. You always somehow knew and ‘accidentally’
stopped by.”

“I could always hear you singing.”

“What?”

“You and your mom would always be singing Christmas songs as
you made it.”

“Oh. Yeah. I guess we did.”

“I heard you singing earlier, and I knew you were making
caramel corn.”

“Well, why didn’t you accidentally happen by the kitchen?”

“I was considering it.”

His voice was light, but she studied his face, and she
suddenly knew he
had
considered it but then decided against it.

If she hadn’t gone to get him, he wouldn’t have come out at
all.

She was really glad she had.

Inspired by this, she took another risk. “Do you want to
come Christmas shopping with me tomorrow?”

“What?”

“You’re taking tomorrow off, right? You said you weren’t
planning to go on the hike with the youth group.” He got one weekday off every
week, since he always had to work on Sundays, and he was supposed to have
Saturdays off too, although he usually ended up doing prep for Sunday or some
other church event.

“Yeah, I don’t need to go on that hike.”

“I was thinking about going Christmas shopping. I need to
buy some presents, since it’s coming up soon, and I have nothing. I was just
asking if you wanted to come with me, if you weren’t going on the hike.”

He gave her a surprised quirk of his lips. “Yeah. I’ll go
with you. I’ve got to get some presents too.”

“Just make sure you get something really good for me.”

“I was thinking about maybe some cooking lessons.”

She gasped in outrage, but his teasing expression was
impossible to take seriously. “Fine. Then I’m going to get you some auto-repair
classes.”

 “I’m great at cars!”

“Right.”

“I really am.”

“You’re still not touching mine.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, both of them munching
on caramel corn and staring at the fire.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked her at last.

She blushed, since she’d actually been thinking about how
amazing and adorable he was. Since she couldn’t possibly admit she’d been thinking
fond thoughts about him, she said instead, “Thinking about Christmas. I used to
love your family’s Christmas parties.”

“I didn’t.”

“Why not? They were always so beautiful. The house was gorgeously
decorated, and everyone would dress up, and the food was delicious and everyone
would gather around the piano and sing carols.” She sighed at the memory. “It
felt like something out of an old movie. I just loved those parties.”

“You should have seen the flurry that went into
preparations. My mom would stress about those parties for weeks beforehand. And
I hated to dress up. I hated having to help clean the house and serve the
food.”

“Well, that’s too bad. Those parties were really special. I
looked forward to them from the time we got the invitation. It was just me and
my mom most of the time, but at those parties it always felt like I was part of
a…”

“A what?” His voice had changed.

She shrugged and glanced away from him. “I don’t know. Part
of a community. A family. Like there were a lot of people who were all
connected to me deeply.”

He was silent for a moment after she’d said it, as if he
were letting the words soak in. Then, “And yet you always try to hide now.”

“I do not try to hide!” Even as she vehemently disagreed,
she wasn’t entirely convinced he was wrong. “Why do you always go on about
that? I do like being alone sometimes, but I want to feel connected. And…I
don’t. Most of the time I just…I just don’t anymore.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, and she felt like an
absolute idiot. It had been a casual conversation, and she’d just blurted out
something really private.

“You are,” he said softly, responding to the newly serious
mood. He reached out and put a hand on her thigh.

“I don’t really know that I am.” She couldn’t look at him,
so she stared at the crackling fire. Her face blazed with the heat wafting from
the flames.

“You’re still part of this town, Jessica.”

“I guess. I just don’t really feel like part if it. It’s not
the same.” One of the reasons she’d wanted this marriage was so that she could
feel connected again, and it was so frustrating that even marriage hadn’t made
her less lonely. Hadn’t made her less alone.

“It
is
the same. These people know you and love you.
You’re the one who holds herself back.”

“I do not hold myself back.” Her voice was a little sharp,
since it felt like he was turning on her, when he’d sounded so understanding
before. “Name one time I was invited to do something social and refused.”

“That’s not what I mean. I mean holding yourself back
emotionally, like you don’t think they’ll love you.”

“Believe it or not, people don’t always love me.” For some
reason, the pragmatic words sounded almost poignant to her own ears.

“They do. They would—if you would just take a step out and
let them. But you assume they’re all judging you or looking down on you or ignoring
you or something.”

“Not all of them.” This was far deeper a conversation than
she was expected this evening, and it left her feeling a little off-stride. But
she was on the defensive now, and she was determined to stand up for herself.
“But you can’t tell me some of these Willow Park women don’t think I’m
unnatural for spending time on a career instead of taking care of a house.”

“Some of them might. They’re not perfect. But who is? Narrow
views can be incredibly annoying, but these people only know what they’ve been
around all their lives. They’ll never realize they’re wrong unless they get to
know you, and they’ll never get to know you if you don’t let them.”

Daniel was good at this—seeing people clearly, giving
advice, thinking of what other people needed and putting together a convincing
case for it. He did it naturally, and it was part of his job.