Truth or Consequences

chapter 18

"Do we have to kill a Christmas tree in order to celebrate?" I am in middle school, and Marty is in elementary school.

"Kill a tree? Helene... let's not be so dramatic, baby." Mom says, laughing.

"And artificial trees are stupid." Marty contributes.

"Marty, don't say stupid. But you're right." Mom concedes. "Well, what else do we do... because we are most certainly decorating and celebrating."

I roll my eyes. "I don't know, like... maybe, get like a regular tree. In a pot. That we can have forever."

"Ooh, let's get a cactus!!" It's easy to get Marty on board.

"We are not getting a cactus, Marty. We need something that we can actually decorate. Can we go to the plant nursery, mama?"

"Absolutely! Bundle up, boys and girls... we're going tree shopping!"

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I don't know if Christmas will ever be the same.
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"I know we said no presents... But I couldn't help myself!" I jump on the bed beside Felix, where he was reading but is now laughing at my enthusiasm. I kneel next to him holding my gift-wrapped present behind my back.

"Oh good... I got you one too! But mine is really silly... and hopefully really useful."

"Mine too! Open it!" This is the best I've felt in a couple of days. I swing between feeling utterly alone this Christmas season and feeling normal. Whatever normal is. Through my work and training, I know better than most that there is no normal. We all strive to meet these unrealistic standards, but who we are at our core is real, perfect, and good enough. I just can't help but feel a hole, a void in my heart. I'm scared that I'll always have it, that I'll always feel incomplete, that I've lost a big part of who I am.

I hand over the square-shaped present, one hand on either side and when he grabs ahold of it, he places his hands on top of mine and pulls me into him. His kisses are always so sweet and soft.

"Thank you, sugar." He says as he nuzzles my nose. When he rids the box of its wrapping paper, his head tilts in confusion. "Pizza??"

Before he can open it, I place my hand on top of the pizza box. "I just want to say that the contents of this box are one of my favorite things about you. And pizza reminds me of that first weekend we spent together, where I knew I would fall for you despite trying to keep things casual between us."

I remove my hand, and he opens the box. His deep belly laugh is exactly the reaction I was looking for. Inside is a pizza made of socks. In total, there are four pairs of socks, but they each resemble a slice of pizza. Naturally, the crust at the top, but then the rest of the 'slices' are different kinds of pizza: pepperoni, Hawaiian, mushroom, and veggie. I am beyond proud of myself for finding this gem of a gift.