We Are the Light(40)
I argued with her, saying, “What harm could possibly come from it?”
But she kept shaking her head no. I couldn’t believe it, especially after all the work I had put into the wrapping, even measuring all the boxes with a ruler and making all the necessary cuts and folds. Her pyramid of gifts could have appeared in any glossy, glamorous magazine or in any fancy Manhattan storefront window—it was that perfect of an offering.
“Give these to Jill,” winged Darce said.
When I searched her eyes, they seemed to say, Jill gave up her trip to see her parents in North Carolina on Christmas, just so you wouldn’t be alone. She’s been looking after you, like a best friend should. Keeping your mother at bay even. Don’t let her wake up to no presents on Christmas morning.
I asked if we could open just one together. Maybe the least of them. Then I gently pulled a flat white square—what Maggie Stevens had given me at Majestic Books—from the middle of the pyramid. “Here,” I said. “I got this gift for free.”
Winged Darcy frowned, but I unwrapped her present for her anyway, revealing the Angelic Cats calendar, which features twelve different cats dressed as angels—one for every month of the coming year. I flipped through all the different photographs depicting harps and halos and clouds and grand sets of feathered wings and, of course, cats. We had been forced to put Darcy’s beloved geriatric calico, Justin, down the previous summer. As Darce hadn’t yet emotionally recovered enough to make room for a new kitten, I thought the calendar was the perfect stepping-stone placeholder. My wife smiled at each month’s offering, but there was something new and maybe even alien in her face, which was when I realized that she most likely no longer had a need for earthly calendars—let alone pets—and was therefore humoring me so I wouldn’t feel too bad about my silly human motives and reasonings and need for people to like whatever I might gift them.
“I’ll hang it in the kitchen,” I finally said, trying to save face. “It’ll remind me of you. You always loved a cute animal calendar.”
When she opened her gigantic wings, I fell into them, at which point she wrapped me tight as a newborn baby.
Jill already had Christmas music playing when I woke up late the next morning and followed the smell of coffee down the steps and into my living room. She had somehow managed to set up and decorate a small tree that definitely hadn’t been there the night before, because I had specifically told Jill numerous times that I did not want to celebrate the birth of Christ this year in any excessively extravagant ways. As I stood there halfway down the stairs, taking in the newly festive atmosphere, Jill came out of the kitchen and observed me carefully, as if I might explode into a rage. And I was tempted to, because I didn’t want any of this. But then I remembered what winged Darce had said the night before, so instead of yelling at Jill and throwing the small Christmas tree out the front door and into the street, I went back up to my bedroom and began to transport the pyramid of gifts down the stairs. I placed each present around the tree, making a complete O of wrapped gifts, which is when Jill said, “I didn’t get you anything except the tree,” so I explained that I had bought these for Darcy, who would surely want her best friend to have them.
Jill bit her lip and then turned her back before disappearing into the powder room. When she reemerged maybe twenty minutes later, she served me breakfast for lunch, because it was already noon. She had made sausage and waffles, which she topped with powdered sugar, strawberries, and cream. I didn’t feel much like eating, but I forced as much of the food down as I could. Not because it was delicious—which it certainly was—but because I realized that this was Jill’s Christmas gift to me and I remembered how awful it felt when winged Darcy had rejected mine.
While Jill was cleaning up the kitchen, I called my mother, just to get it over with. She didn’t ask about what I was doing on my first Christmas without Darcy. In fact, Mom didn’t ask me a single question. Instead, she talked about how lovely their waterfront gated community had looked with all the boats lit up for Christmas Eve. Then she went on and on about the “breathtaking” diamond tennis bracelet her boyfriend, Harvey, had purchased for her along with the “many-carat-ed” matching earrings. Next, she waxed on about how much fun they were having with Harvey’s son and grandchildren. Apparently, they all were going for a sunset cruise on Harvey’s fishing boat. After fifteen minutes or so, Mom said she should get back to the party before adding that it was a real shame I hadn’t made the journey down because Harvey’s son, Hunter, was a remarkable human being and perhaps even a man I could learn a thing or two from.
“Merry Christmas, Mom,” I said, and then hung up the phone.
In the living room, I managed to convince Jill to open up most of Darcy’s presents, which she reluctantly did. Jill said she would wear the leather jacket I bought but the matching shoes were a size too small. Luckily, I had kept all of the receipts, I told her. She confirmed that the facial and hand creams could be put to good use along with the bath bombs and soaking salts and the gift certificate for a massage at Majestic Zen. And then there were the smaller gifts, like pink razors and lady shaving cream and a jumbo family-sized pack of Twizzlers, which is Darcy’s favorite movie snack. But then Jill opened the little box that contained the plastic gift card that got the owner into the Majestic Theater for an entire year, which made Jill go white and ask why I had wrapped that up. I could tell she was really uncomfortable because her eyes were wide open and her whole body had started to tremble.