The Plight Before Christmas(59)

She lowers her voice above a whisper. “On this particular night, the time for talking was over for me so, in order to get my point across…I shot my husband in the ass.”

Laughter bursts out of me. “You what?”

“I could lie and tell you I didn’t mean to, but I intentionally shot my husband in the ass.” She eyes the chocolate, “let’s take it off the heat. And start separating those eggs, would you, handsome?”

Mouth gaping, I stare at her, “You can’t leave me hanging like this.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” she grins. “It’s rare that I get to relay this story because who wants to admit something like that? Sadly, at certain times I enjoy telling it.” She shrugs. “I’m no angel.”

Chuckling, I crack the first egg and begin separating the yolk from the white with the shell as she leans in.

“That night, I was drained, I mean at the very end of my very short rope. The kids were screaming on account of the fact that they were breathing. Allen was too involved with a project in his shed to help me, so I lost my shit. Fed up, I pulled out my father’s ancient mini crossbow, walked out to the shed, and shot him directly in the ass.”

Full-blown belly laughter takes over as she smiles, shaking her head as if she still doesn’t believe it herself. When my laughter has heads turning in our direction, she shushes me.

“Of course, after, I felt terrible. I could have really hurt him. I was sure he was going to divorce me,” her voice turns remorseful. “He was quiet the entire ride home from the ER. It was the longest ride of my life because I just knew what was coming. After I tucked the kids in, I found him waiting for me in the living room. He grabbed my hand, yanked me to his chest, looked me right in the eyes, and told me he would never leave me or let me leave him, no matter how many times I shot him in the ass. I fell back in love with him in that moment. To this day, the kids still have no idea what happened.”

I widen my eyes. “Wow.”

“Exactly. In a sense, he took a bullet from me. How could I possibly leave him after that?”

“Agreed.”

“I could lie and tell you things got exponentially better, and to an extent, they did. But it was never easy, and we’ve never been perfect. We’ve fought our way through every year—some good, some bad, but neither one of us has ever walked out the front door without the intention of walking back in. It’s the decision to stay that makes all the difference. I love and appreciate him more than ever now, and I don’t believe any couple can get to this level of commitment without being committed for years. Know what I mean?”

“I do.”

She gives me a sheepish smile. “Please don’t fear for your safety here.”

I grin. “I’m not.”

“Good. I may be a little nuts, but I’ve managed to get through several more decades of marriage without another ass murder attempt.” She pulls out a mixer from a drawer and hands it to me. “My point in revealing this to you is that while I can hold a grudge, Allen is different. He forgives me for everything, and I mean everything. Always has. Neither of us has been the perfect spouse, but I think it’s his ability to forgive that’s kept us together all these years—and thank God for it.” She closes the egg carton and places a hand on my arm. “I have a kid capable of the same type of forgiveness. She just might need a little time to recognize the one capable of taking a shot in the ass for her.”

My own admission comes easily. “Believe it or not, I’ve suffered a lot worse.”

“I know, handsome,” she says softly, “it’s written all over you.”

We work side by side for a few comfortable minutes before I speak up. “Thank You, Ruby.” I know I don’t have to specify why.

She knows.





“Am I an animal?” Serena asks, the Hedbanz card strapped around her forehead. Everyone replies with a resounding “Yes.”

“Am I edible?”

“Yes,” Gracie says through a giggle.

Serena turns to Thatch. “Am I furry?”

“You can be,” Thatch answers with a grin.

“Mom,” Gracie says, “you’re not playing right. Only one question per turn.”

“I’m a damn pig, aren’t I?” Serena says dryly, and I laugh at her delivery along with everyone else. I glance over at Eli, who sits at the end of the table, a pencil card strapped to his own head. He might be sitting with us, but it’s clear his mind is elsewhere as he stares blankly into the living room, unfocused on the twinkling tree. I want so much to retract my words, but every single one spoken was the truth.

People—men in particular—probably don’t realize or care that when they give the gift of unrequited love, they also victimize the families of those they leave devastated. Maybe it’s the same way with other types of heartbreak, but that was the kind I knew.

He needed to know the cat and mouse game he started when he got here has never been a game for me—at least not with him. Since he’s arrived, I’ve been caught in a whirlwind of mixed emotions, mostly envy and humiliation. Envy for the fact that he seems to have perfectly orchestrated and is effectively living the life I wanted while reminding me I haven’t. As for the humiliation, I can feel it in every one of my aching bones. When I came at him, I felt like shit, and as petty as it may have been, I wanted him to feel just as shitty—if only for a moment. More than that, I wanted to wipe the knowing smirk off his face that reminded me at one time his charm worked, but to my detriment.