On 4/19 (On 4/19 and Beyond 4/20) (27 page)

As he gathered her into his arms, he rubbed her back softly and pled, “Please don’t hate me.”

“I wish I could.” That wasn’t at all true.

For the longest time, they simply stood out in the cold and held on to one another. It was the saddest moment Chelsea had known up until that point and time, a foreshadowing of what was to come. She didn’t regret knowing him; she would never feel that way, but she was beginning to regret hoping. Hope had only let her down.

He walked with her to her room. At her door, he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, lingering near her ear. “I’m sorry I ruined our Christmas Eve. I never saw it going that way.”

“I don’t know how it could go any other way.” With that, and without looking at him again, she turned and went into her room.

A little before five on Christmas morning, John sat in a club chair beside the tree, still shaken by what transpired the night before. Everyone else was sleeping. Earlier he had turned the tree lights on and brought down the gifts he’d gotten for Chelsea’s family. Since he never went to sleep, he decided to get things ready early. He was warned to expect the little kids to be up by six at the latest. After the night he spent dwelling on their conversation, he could hardly muster up any excitement over the day to come. Knowing how she would look at him, John almost dreaded the moment Chelsea would come downstairs. Already in his mind, he could see the sadness in her eyes. At the thought of what was ahead of them, he could hardly recall having a more deeply sorrowful feeling in his life, Tracy’s death included.

Having slept but a few hours, Chelsea was up and making her way downstairs to the living room. When she found John sitting in the chair, she walked immediately over to him, climbed into his lap, and buried her face in his neck. He sighed heavily as she did so. The feel of his arms around her, the way he drew her into him made the pain recede, if only for a moment. Since waking, her only thought was of being wrapped up in him. It would be their only Christmas together, their only time to sit by a tree with a fire crackling nearby. As many times as she tried to push the thought away, since their conversation the night before, it was constantly on her mind. She refused to miss out on even one moment with him, no matter how hurt she was.

As if holding a wounded child, John cuddled her into his lap and kissed her forehead. She was sitting there quietly, calmer than the night before, but clearly upset. Wearing her Christmas pajamas, he was reminded of her youth and how vulnerable and innocent she truly was. Early into their relationship, he felt as if her youth breathed new life into him, but there in that quiet moment, it seemed to be drawing his breath from his chest, hardly allowing him to inhale.

Just before she slipped out of bed, Chelsea thought about when John left for New York. He was trying to put distance between them then, and she feared he would do the same thing this time. As she thought of the things he said about her deserving to be with someone her own age, she knew he was struggling with his decision and how hurt he was by
their circumstance. For whatever reason, even with the absurdity of it all, she knew he truly loved her and wanted to do what he thought was best for her. But he was wrong, and she would never believe otherwise. To argue with him, though, would be pointless; she saw the resolve in his eyes. What mattered most to her at that moment was that she not lose him so soon. As long as they were together, God could change his mind. It was her only hope of ever being with him forever. Lifting her head, she stared into his eyes, certain he was in as much pain as she was. Tracing her fingers along the course stubble of his chin, she watched as his lips slowly formed into a sad smile. “Please don’t pull away like you did before. You promised me the year.”

Those were her exact words in the hospital, that he promised her the year. Just as then, he felt the same desperate sense of fear over living life without her. Lowering his head, burying his face into the curve of her neck, he once again assured her, “I’m not going anywhere.” Truthfully, this time he never considered it. Without question, if she wanted out, he would let her walk away with anything she wanted. As for him, he would hold on until that very last moment when he had to let her go. The love he felt for her was so deeply penetrating, it felt more like a wound than love. When he said he’d never loved another, it was true. Certainly, he loved his parents, but there was no one else, not even Tracy. They had enough in common that they made sense, but to him then, love was a rather impractical notion, one he never knew could matter to him. It did matter though. Chelsea mattered to him most. That was one of her accusations from the night before, that he treated her as if she mattered most, and she was correct. As much as he dreaded that moment when they would part, he knew it was what he must do for her. He had reminded himself of that every day since Thanksgiving.

Just before six, they heard the sounds of little feet trampling down the stairway. Excited and giggling, the kids were eager to get to their gifts. It was then that Chelsea noticed the increase in gifts around the tree. After the kids went to bed, the adults sat out their presents. Now, though, there were many more.

“Where did all those gifts come from?”

“I did the best I could based on ages. Irene helped me.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

Grinning at her, he reminder her, “I thought we covered that.”

She smiled in return. “We did,” on their first date when he offered to check on her car. Although that night was only eight months ago, somehow it felt longer, as if she’d been with him for years. There was this deep and binding connection they shared, as if they’d known one another all of their lives. Paradoxically, their time together had flown by and would soon be over.

Though the room became a circus within the next few minutes, she made no move to get up when everyone entered, no matter the look her father gave them. Instead, she stayed snuggled in the chair with John and watched while the kids tore into their gifts. As sad as she felt, she was determined to enjoy every minute with him and just as determined that he enjoy his Christmas. If it were over in the spring, she wanted to have good memories to look back on, and she wanted him to have the same. It was her hope that he never have a reason to regret being with her, certainly she had no regrets. Without question, John was the best part of her short life, and somehow she knew she was the best part of his more than short life. Grinning at the thought, she leaned in and kissed his cheek.

Threading his fingers through hers, he whispered, “As far as I’m concerned, we can spend the entire day nestled in this chair.”

Blinking tears away, she whispered in return, “As far as I’m concerned, we can spend the rest of our lives in this chair.”

Pulling her even closer, he kissed her head and sighed without responding.

Very quickly, it appeared as if there was an explosion at a wrapping paper factory. Paper and bows filled the floor, while her sister went around with trash bags picking up debris. The morning was amazing for the children and the parents, too. John went overboard with gifts, which seemed to take everyone by surprise but Chelsea. Considering he offered her a three-million-dollar condo, she knew a few electronics and toys was nothing to him. Of all the gifts, the most exciting was given to Preston. John arranged for flight lessons for him at an airfield in Tulsa. Chelsea was certain she’d never seen Preston more animated. It was strange to
think that Preston might someday become a pilot just as he’d always dreamed of being, and it would be because John was in her life that Preston got his start.

When Tess handed Chelsea a small box, she turned to John and said, “I thought we agreed no gifts.”

“We did, but I bought this a while back and have been saving it. So it doesn’t count.” At her hesitance, smiling, he encouraged, “Open it.” Since purchasing the gift, he had been anxious for her to open it, hardly able to wait for Christmas. On more than one occasion he’d been tempted to give it to her early. It was the first piece of jewelry that he was certain she would love.

Based on its size, she could tell it was jewelry. Once she tore into the paper, she saw the Tiffany & Co. logo. Her heart began to pound in hopes that it was what she suspected. Glancing up at John, she found a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. Removing the box and flipping open the lid, she found her silver locket glistening against black velvet. It was the one she had admired when they were in New York together on the way to Italy. As much as she wanted it then, she could hardly afford it. Even when John offered to buy it for her, she said she wasn’t interested. If he bought it, it would be something else she would have to leave behind when she left L.A., something that would break her heart to let go of. But since it was her Christmas gift, she would always keep it. Already she was trying to decide which of his photos she would use to place across from hers. There was something so sweet and sentimental about a locket. Her grandmother had one from when she and her granddad first married. It went to her dad’s sister, Linda, when her grandmother passed, and rightly so. Since then, Chelsea had always wanted one of her own. John could have given her no more precious gift.

Circling her arms around his neck, she buried her face and whispered, “It’s exactly what I wanted.”

“I know, baby.” Holding her tightly, he hardly noticed the roomful of eyes upon them. Certainly they were expecting some extravagant piece of jewelry based on the excessive gifts he had given them. If he thought she would like it, he’d have spent unlimited money on jewelry. He already had, but those things meant nothing to her. When she looked at the
locket in the store, though, he saw a glimmer in her eye and then the clear look of disappointment over the price. At the memory of it, that sensation of burning in his chest resurfaced. Unfortunately, he would have to get used to such a feeling as it was what would come and likely remain when he had to begin life without her.

Eventually, John and Chelsea went into the kitchen to start breakfast, leaving parents and grandparents to open packaging and put toys together. With fourteen of them to feed, it took quite some time to prepare enough food. As they always did, they enjoyed being together in the kitchen. From breakfast on they were not often out of each other’s sight. Something new emerged out of the pain of their conversation the night before. There was a greater sense of closeness for sure, but also a desperate desire to cherish each and every moment they had remaining. Intentionally, the end was never mentioned again.

Just after lunch, Gail was cleaning the kitchen and putting food away. Everyone was scattered, some down for a nap, some outside playing in the snow, and some playing with new electronics. Chelsea and John, however, sat alone on the same swing they had the night before. Before bed, watching from her window, Gail saw that something significant transpired between them, and whatever it was, carried over into the morning hours. They were different this morning. There was some sort of sorrow that had settled upon them both. Certainly they were just as affectionate as before, maybe even more so, but there was still an undercurrent of unhappiness. Gail knew her daughter well enough to be sure of it.

Since they arrived, both she and Bob had watched the two in amazement. Never had they seen Chelsea as happy as she was with John. As for John, he was likely the most loving man she’d ever seen. Bob was always good to her throughout their years together, but never did he look at her the way John looked at Chelsea. John was kind and attentive, always holding her hand or caressing her cheek. There was something in the way they clung to each other, especially this day, that caused her to wonder about the desperation in their eyes. It was not simply her imagination; Caitlin had picked up on something too, yet neither of them could quite
put their finger on it. Gail found that her prayers that day were often for Chelsea and John. She sensed they needed it.

Once the family was gone, Chelsea and John spent another day at the cabin before flying out to Montana. Chelsea found she liked being there in Montana with his parents almost as much as she enjoyed being with her own family. She and his mother talked and cooked together, reminding Chelsea of those similar times with her grandmother. This day, John was gone with his dad to his ranch, and she and Louise were upstairs in Chelsea’s room looking once again at photos of John when he was a young boy. Since the men had left recently, Chelsea knew they would be gone for quite some time more. While they were alone, even though she knew it was totally inappropriate to ask, she asked anyway. “Did John love Tracy?”

Surprised by Chelsea’s question, Louise sat for a moment looking at her. Finally, she admitted, “No. I don’t believe he did. Why do you ask?”

Shaking her head, Chelsea said, “Just something he said to me recently.”

Louise wasn’t at all surprised that the conversation of love had come up between John and Chelsea. When Chelsea remained in John’s life through Thanksgiving and then Christmas, Louise had become convinced John loved her just as much as she loved him. She couldn’t see them together and not be sure of it. It was really quite amusing that John had spent the past decade avoiding any relationship at all only to find himself in love with a mere child. Glancing at Chelsea, her heart filling with satisfaction over what a sweet woman loved her son in return, she patted her arm.

As well as she was getting to know Chelsea, she sensed a distinct sadness just below the surface. “What did he say?”

“He said I’m the first woman he’s ever loved.” A lump formed in her throat at the memory of that night. The pain of it had seldom left her since.

“I believe that.”

Tears pooled in Chelsea’s eyes. “It’s not enough, though,” she choked out.

Taking Chelsea’s hand, Louise hoped to console her, “Give him some time.” Claude had told her what John said about never getting married again. And if he said it, she believed it. He was not one to make rash commitments. After the way things ended with Tracy, he likely never wanted to feel what he felt when she died. The guilt and remorse nearly killed him.