We Are the Light(41)

“For when they reopen the Majestic,” I explained.

Darcy loved going to the movies. We went practically every weekend. Always got our money’s worth and then some out of the yearlong pass. We gave movie passes to each other every Christmas. It’s an unbreakable tradition. And Jill also loves the movies. She’d gone with Darce and me to the Majestic a thousand times. Maybe more. So I knew she would definitely use the pass, even if she didn’t appreciate what was painted on the Majestic Theater’s Grand Viewing Room ceiling as much as Darcy and I did. Which oddly gets me thinking that there’s some detail I’m just not remembering about the Majestic, something important and maybe even divine.

Jill just sat there quivering with the annual movie pass in her hands and her mouth ajar.

I began to realize that I had somehow ruined Christmas for her, but I really wasn’t sure how or why. Did she really think Mark and Tony were going to raze a historic building just because there was a single tragedy? Canceling the movies and losing such a sacred space would be punishing ourselves twice over. It didn’t make any sense. But Jill’s facial expression made it clear that she was never going to see the logic in the argument I just made. And for some reason, that realization made me very angry.

So I stood up, grabbed my coat, and walked right out the front door.

I punched my fists deep into my pockets and walked so fast I was practically running. All of the Christmas lights and decorations blurred together in my peripheral vision, creating these blindingly long unbroken streams of electric joy, none of which I could find a way to metabolize. I felt like a starving man separated by unbreakable glass from a steaming succulent feast masterfully laid out on the grand table. I could punch and kick and headbutt that glass all I wanted, but I would never be granted permission to taste the food on the other side. I was only permitted to stare and drool.

I banged on your door, Karl, but, of course, you didn’t answer. And I walked past the Hansens’ home many times as well.

I don’t know how many miles I logged that day, but by the time Bobby the cop pulled up alongside me in his cruiser, the sun had long ago set.

“Nice and toasty in here, Mr. Goodgame,” Bobby said after he rolled down his window. “Hop in.”

My ears were chips of ice at that point and I was beginning to worry about the more permanent aspects of frostbite, so I did as I was commanded and without protest.

As he drove me home, I couldn’t stop shivering, and at one point, Bobby reached over and placed his hand on my left shoulder. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to warm me up or if he was just trying to say everything was going to be okay. Regardless, I reached across my body with my right hand and placed it on top of his. I think I was trying to say, Thank you. Somehow, we ended up driving the rest of the way home frozen in that position.

When we pulled up to my house, I asked Bobby if he wanted to come in for a cup of coffee, but he said he had to get home to his family, which is when I realized he was off duty and had just been doing Jill a favor. I didn’t want to take up any more of his holiday, so I nodded and made my way into my house. He waited until I was inside before he shifted back into gear and we exchanged a wave as he drove off.

There was no more Christmas music playing and the wrapping paper we’d left on the living room floor had already been disposed of. The circle of gifts was also gone and I never did see any of them again, so I’m not really sure what happen to those presents. But I found Jill seated at the kitchen table transferring all of the important dates Darce and I tried to remember every year—birthdays and anniversaries, when to change the heating and air-conditioning filters—from last year’s Beach Dog Lifeguards calendar to the new year’s Angelic Cats calendar. It was weird, because I didn’t remember bringing the new cat calendar down from my bedroom, which probably meant Jill went into my private space while I was gone and found it. I hadn’t given her permission to do that. I hadn’t given her permission to transfer all of the dates either. And my skin began to tingle like it sometimes does whenever someone is touching something of mine without my permission.

“What are you doing?” I asked when it became obvious that she wasn’t going to look up from the task at hand.

When she didn’t answer, I went up into my bedroom and stayed there for the night. Later, when winged Darce arrived, she told me to give Jill time, saying she had been through a great shock and didn’t have an angel to guide her through all of the confusing aftermath, which made sense. And the next morning, the Christmas tree in the living room was gone and everything went back to normal with Jill and me. Well, until we went to Maryland later that spring, but I’ve already told you about that.

Here’s the reason I told you that Christmas story: to explain how Eli knew that Jill’s birthday was early in July. It was the Angelic Cats calendar in the kitchen that clued him in. After he turned from June’s winged tabby kitten playing a harp to July’s winged tuxedo adult cat soaring through the sunlit clouds, Eli said, “Did you know Jill’s birthday is next week? July seventh.” When I said I did but had forgotten, Eli added, “You’ve got to do something for her.”

“Me?” I said. “Don’t you mean us?”

“Look,” Eli said, shaking his head, “Jill’s always cooking for us and everyone in Majestic so why don’t you take her out to a nice restaurant in the city or something? Give her a night off. Let someone cook for her for a change.”