Acting Out by Benilde Little

Author:Benilde Little
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Free Press

CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

Jay called two days before Christmas with a proposal. He wanted to spend the night on Christmas Eve so he could help with the toys and be there the next morning when the kids awoke. I reluctantly agreed. At least, I thought, I could put off another day having to tell the children what the deal was.

He arrived, as planned, with our usual Chinese takeout dinner. The tree was half-trimmed, the fire was going, Nat “King” Cole was on the CD player and all of our stockings in gold and silver, touches of red velvet, were hung and stuffed. The smell of fresh pine, cinnamon and orange floated in the air. Martha would’ve been proud. I made sure the kids were rested and well behaved and I even put a little effort into my appearance, exchanging my jeans for a wool jersey top and pants and a little extra makeup.

Jay came through the front door carrying bags of wrapped gifts and a grease-stained brown bag and the boys went flying to him, jumping on him, yelling Daddy, Daddy, vying for hugs and kisses and attention. I stood back, holding Ivy on my hip, who was also reaching for Da-da. Tears came to my eyes and I quickly wiped before anyone noticed. I watched and waited. He came to me and kissed me warmly—on the cheek, saying something about how beautiful I looked. I took the shopping bag of food from him and told him we were starved and we all went into the kitchen. After we ate, the kids went to finish decorating the tree. I cleaned off the table, put the dishes in the dishwasher as Jay sat at the table playing with Ivy on his lap. He looked great. Better than I could ever remember. He looked stronger, more vibrant and he’d lost a little weight. He looked like he’d been pampered; his skin looked as if he’d been having facials, his haircut was better. I could just imagine her arranging all of it for him. Spending their free time shopping at Barneys, her standing behind him as he picked through a pile of cashmere sweaters, nodding her approval, frowning when she didn’t and him blindly taking her counsel as Malcolm used to take mine.

Could he really have been that miserable with me, with us? Right now everything felt so normal, having all of us together on Christmas Eve. I wanted to enjoy it. I wanted to make him say he’d been a fool.

“You look nice,” he said, as Ivy gnawed on his finger, drooling on his pin-striped pants.

I wiped down the granite countertops, thinking what a beautiful kitchen this was and heard myself acknowledge his compliment.

“Why don’t you sit down for a minute?” he said, as if things were normal between us.

I realized I’d practically been in constant motion since he’d arrived.

I sat down, across from him at the farm table I must have spent six months searching for. It had to seat six, have just the right shade of brown chestnut and the right amount of nicks.

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