A Mrs. Miracle Christmas(15)

    “We need to get our Christmas tree,” Laurel announced, trying to distract herself from that awful thought. “We can shop for it tonight, set it up, and decorate it together.” Christmases with Zach had become her favorite time of the year. They did everything together—buying the tree, decorating it, shopping for gifts, baking—all while sharing the joy of the season.

Zach nodded, looking excited, until he looked over to Helen and the home companion. “We could go out, but it’s time for Mrs. Miracle to head home, isn’t it?” It went without saying that leaving Nana would be problematic. It was nearing the time of day when Helen often became even more confused and sometimes irritable.

The happy expectation Laurel felt moments earlier instantly faded. She was aware they couldn’t leave her grandmother alone, and Mrs. Miracle had already put in a full eight hours. No doubt the caregiver was anxious to head back to her own home.

“Did someone mention getting a Christmas tree?” Mrs. Miracle asked, coming out of the kitchen to join Laurel and Zach in the living room.

“We’ll wait for the weekend,” Laurel said, as Zach started to remove his coat.

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Miracle said. “You two go ahead. Go pick up your tree, and while you’re out, take time to have dinner—just the two of you. Every couple needs a date night now and then. Helen and I are having a grand time.”

    “But you’ve already put in a full day and—”

“If you’re worried about the overtime, then don’t. The agency has a holiday special which allows for exactly this sort of thing. All through December, it’s a flat fee, no matter how many hours I spend here with Helen.”

“I don’t recall hearing that from the woman I spoke with,” Laurel said.

“She probably didn’t tell you when you first called, because she didn’t think a Caring Angel would be available for your grandmother until after the first of the year.”

Zach looked to Laurel to make the decision. It’d been weeks since they’d enjoyed a night out. Date night had become a thing of the past since Helen’s dementia had become substantially worse.

“You’re sure you’re able to stay?”

“Heavens, yes. Now head out and enjoy yourself. Find the perfect Christmas tree.”

Expressing their thanks, Zach reached for Laurel’s hand, her coat, and her gloves, and rushed her out of the house, not wanting Mrs. Miracle to change her mind.

“Hey,” Laurel said and laughed, attempting to put her coat on as they headed to the car. “Give me a second,” she said, giggling like one of her students, excited and happy. The snow had continued to fall, and she paused and held out her arms, catching a few of the fat flakes in the palms of her hands.

    “Where should we go first?” Zach asked. “Dinner, or the tree?”

“Tree shopping,” Laurel said, giddy with happiness. “Then to dinner.”

“Perfect.”

Wrapping her arm around his elbow, Zach walked her to his car and opened the passenger door for her. Leaning in, he soundly kissed her, leaving her dizzy with longing and warmth. It was like the old days, when they were first married, when it felt like nothing could ever go wrong. More than anything, Laurel wanted to enjoy this night without the tension she’d felt from the night before. She placed her hands on each side of Zach’s head and kissed him back.

“I can’t think of the last time we went out—just the two of us,” Zach said, climbing behind the wheel and starting the engine.

Sad as it was to say, neither could Laurel. Even after they’d moved in with Nana, their tight budget, due to paying back the bills for fertility treatments, hadn’t been flexible enough to include entertainment. Date night consisted of a television movie with a frozen pizza. And then her grandmother’s mental health began to decline, which limited their ability to get out in the evenings.

    “I want a big tree this year,” Laurel said as they headed to the neighborhood tree lot.

“You got it.”

As Zach drove around Lake Union past Gas Works Park, he reached for Laurel’s hand. “Do you recall when we were first dating—how we used to lay out on the grass in the middle of summer and gaze into the heavens?”

It wasn’t like Laurel would forget. Those were nights when they’d shared their hopes and dreams for the future—special times that had made them grow closer. It was the following autumn that Zach had asked her to be his wife.

“We talked about everything,” Laurel recalled. “Our future seemed bright. Me as a teacher, and you doing amazingly great and geeky computer programming for Amazon. Nothing could stand in our way.”

“We were going to build our own home, design it ourselves, or remodel an existing one. I wanted to live on Capitol Hill, and you were set on Ballard. A four-bedroom house with a den for you. Two kids and at least one dog, right?”

“Two children,” she repeated slowly. “Was that to remind me how I have failed you as a wife?”

“No,” Zach nearly shouted. “No, never. How can you even suggest such a thing?”

“I can’t give you children,” Laurel bitterly replied. It hurt to whisper the words. She felt like a failure, a disappointment to the man she loved. Yet through it all, Zach had faithfully remained at her side. Not once had he complained or spoken of his own sense of loss. He’d been the one to hold her together after Jonathan was taken from them. During the IVF attempts he’d been there for her, encouraging and supporting her while her body underwent hormone treatments, painful shots, and repeated failures. And when she’d failed to conceive, he’d held her while she’d wept with disappointment.