“Guess not.” I shrugged and looked out to where they were warming up on the ice. Barry caught my eye and waved, the usual goofy smile on his face. “Player or not, he’s fast as hell and leads in assists on the team.”
Wow. Two months of knowing a thing about hockey and I was already talking like Jeremy. I was proud of my progress, honestly.
“You’re right,” she said, but glared at where O’Neil skated circles around a stretching Barry, handling the puck under Barry’s legs and probably cracking jokes. It had become their routine, the young captain glomming onto Barry immediately after the trade. The way Chloe looked at O’Neil, I swore there was history there, but I wasn’t gonna press.
“Have you thought about names for the baby yet?” she asked.
I grinned and allowed the subject change.
CHAPTER 32
CRYING ON CHRISTMAS
Christmas Eve, much like Thanksgiving, was a huge family production in the Harvey household. Jeremy and my mom baked, Ron and Dad made two kinds of meat (they couldn’t help themselves), and Kate and I helped by cooking many sides. This year, Barry, Chloe, and Trevor O’Neil would also be joining us. Trevor’s family lived in Connecticut and he, like Barry, worried that the travel time and potential delays would make it too difficult to get there and back in time for their game next week. Trevor said he’d see his parents during the February break, since he officially wasn’t chosen for the All-Stars team in favor of the flashier players?—
“The fan favorites who score lots and lots of points,” he said. “Overrated if you ask me.”
Barry scoffed and threw an almond at his friend, who caught it in his mouth and winked at me while he chewed. Barry, of course, was picked for the All-Stars game.
I was right that Trevor and Chloe must’ve known each other somehow, because he chatted with her in a way that was more familiar than strangers, and she rolled her eyes at him constantly. I kept raising my eyebrows at Barry when she sent barbs at Trevor, and Barry shrugged every time.
“Think they’ve hooked up?” Kate whispered about the pair.
“Bro, duh,” Jeremy said as he passed us with a bowl of fresh rolls for the table.
Chloe and Barry each made a couple sides (Barry’s salads, and Chloe offered tapioca pudding that I already had two cupsof), and Trevor brought roasted carrots that smelled like I would be eating three servings. By the time we were ready for dinner, Jeremy took the puzzle table and used it as an extender to fit all of us.
I had some anxiety about everyone vibing with my loud, nosy family, but I felt silly about that by the time we were dished up. It was such a lovely time, really the more the merrier with this bunch. Jeremy and Trevor were fast friends, Chloe and Kate too, and Barry sat with his leg pressed up against mine all through dinner.
As was my duty, I brought a Christmas puzzle, one that Barry picked up on the team’s last road trip. Christmas kitties. Baby was exceptionally active after I ate, as she usually was these days, and my family took turns feeling her thump against their palms.
“She heard you were sorting a puzzle and got excited,” Jeremy muttered, picking out a couple of edge pieces while Dad muttered nice grandpa things toward my stomach.
We did presents after dessert and coffee, an out-of-control Secret Santa, followed by a few gifts for each other.
I opened a quilt from my mom, intricate patches of lavender and green, fabrics with floral prints, greenery, and ones with tiny fairies and butterflies. It was the prettiest quilt I’d ever seen, and it must’ve taken her forever to make. I cried, imagining my baby loving this item made with so much love by my own mother. I thought of her holding me as a baby, and how she’d care for my children so intensely—my whole family would. This baby would be so very supported, and so would I.
As much as I was sure I needed to do this whole thing alone, holding this quilt in my arms, I was glad I didn’t have to.
“Oh come on now, no need to make us all cry,” Mom said, but she was already wiping her eyes. I hugged her tight. I could tell Barry was touched by the gift too, eyes glassy, and he rubbed his palm over my spine.
As we relaxed afterwards, my mind wandered to next Christmas,when our currently unborn baby would then be crawling and laughing and already finding her way into trouble.
This made me think of an inevitable Christmas where Barry will have moved on from me. He’d realize I wasn’t what he wanted in a life partner and find a new beautiful wife, one who wasn’t so wary of relationships, who was organized and driven, who could commit to love even when it was scary.
They’d probably have two kids, well-adjusted little siblings for our daughter. Our baby will love the two Christmases and grow to love her stepmom too.
The whole thing made me nauseous to think about. I was preemptively jealous, anticipatory grief for a relationship I wasn’t letting myself have.
Barry caught my eye across the living room while I thought about it, raising his eyebrows in wordless question. I offered a tight-lipped smile and shook my head before rushing out of the living room and slipping as quietly as possible to my old bedroom at the end of the hallway.
In the room I had shared with Kate, I sat on the edge of my old bed and wiped my eyes, having gone from fine to crying before I even closed the door behind me. I needed to pull it together, but I felt wobbly all over. I was heartbroken over a future that wasn’t evenhere—a future I didn’t believe I could change.
There was a light knock on the door before it opened, revealing Barry in the Christmas sweater Jeremy got him in the secret Santa. It had little Christmas trees with faces and was a size too small on him.
I turned my face from him and tried fruitlessly to wipe the evidence of my crying from beneath my eyes. I sniffled way too loud, too, so there went any charade of me being put together.
“Hey, hey,” Barry muttered and clicked the door shut behind him before rushing to my side on the twin bed. I tried to turn away from him, but he put one hand on my lower back, one onmy chin, tilting it up toward him. I sniffled again. “Why are we crying on Christmas?”
