Page 112 of Even After This
Each member of the family wears a varying degree of the same expression.
Scott pulls a package from behind his couch cushion and hands it to me. “This is to you from all of us.”
As I tear the paper, neon orange peeks through. I cover mymouth and giggle. In front of me is a workman’s vest with the word HAZARD written across the back in block letters.
Everyone erupts in laughter.
William points to my present. “We wanted to make sure you were safe the next time you went skiing.”
With a giant smile on my face, I take a moment to study each person in the room.
The possibility that I might belong here whispers to me.
After losing Steve, Clayton, and Chloe, I didn’t think I would ever view the future as anything other than necessary. But now I’m intrigued. What if there is a place for me here? A purpose? A family?
When the gift opening comes to a close, William stands up, clasps his hands, and clears his throat. “I just want everyone to know—”
His wife, sitting next to him on the oversized chair, reaches up to grab his arm. “William?”
“It’s okay, honey.” He beams at her. “This is the fun part.”
Eyes darting around the room, she shakes her head. “Now is not—”
“Gracie here has given us the best Christmas news.” William opens his arms wide. “We are going to have another baby.”
An ecstatic energy fills the room. The boys jump up and down with shocked faces. Mama Lee and Harlan walk over and offer exuberant hugs.
But I am frozen.
With tears streaming down my face.
Scott lets out a whoop, jolting me out of my stupor.
Move. Moveout of this room and let them celebrate.
The closest door opens to the porch, and I make strides in that direction. Grabbing a random coat off a hook and slipping my feet into a pair of house shoes, I open the door, rush through, and close it. I cannot afford to look back.
After I slip my arms through the sleeves of the barn jacket, Iclutch the railing of the wraparound deck. Snow-covered fields sprawl out for miles, but deep anguish hinders my view of the beauty in front of me. Angry, judgmental tears cloud my vision.
What was I thinking? That Colorado would swipe away my reality? That somehow my gaping wounds would ignore Christmas? I know better. I know better than to burden anyone around me with pain they can’t help. As I close my eyes, hot tears streak down my face. Christmas. Family. Babies. How stupid of me. My thoughts spiral down to lies I shouldn’t believe, and I lose the mental battle.
I am a giant stain on this picturesque Holcombe family holiday.
After several minutes of sinking into dark thoughts, I hear the door open. Once again, Harlan’s strong arms wrap around my shoulders. A sob escapes as I lean back into his solid chest. He rubs his cheek against mine, soaking up my tears. Tightening his hold on me, Harlan whispers soothing sentiments as my body shakes.
“I’m sorry.” My voice cracks with the inadequate apology.
“You’re okay.” When he kisses my temple, he holds his mouth in place. “You’re okay.”
My heartbeat slows as I try to match my breaths to his. One breath. Two breaths. Three.
“Hot chocolate, anyone?”
At the gentle voice, we turn toward his mother. With a quilt hanging over her arm and a mug in each hand, she offers a small smile. “Why don’t you go make yourself useful, Harlan. Those dishes aren’t going to wash themselves.”
Holding my face in his hands, he wipes away the remaining tears with his thumbs. He peers down at me, lines creasing his face with concern.
I nod to tell him to go.
