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I hadn’t come up with anything good to write in the card until this morning.
She pulls the card out and clears her throat.“Dear Rae, Merry Christmas. I know how you feel about this time of year and especially snow. I know it hasn’t been the whitest Christmas ever, but it’ll do. I want you to know how much you mean to me. No matter where we’re at in life or our relationship or anything else, you are the most important person to me. You lift me up when I’m down and make my day brighter just by being near me. I’m grateful for the many layers of our relationship, how far we’ve come, and the journey we still have to go on together. Love always, Aaron.”
She sets the card down and stares at me with tear-stained cheeks. “The journey we still have. Do you really believe that?”
I nod slowly. “I do.”
“Me too,” she says softly. Then she focuses her attention on the box. She rips it open to reveal the earrings I got at a craft fair on campus. I was bored and wandering through when I saw the little jewelry stand where I found these.
At the bottom are flat copper circles with the word “warrior” on each. Above each circle is a beautiful turquoise stone. I thought of Rae as soon as I saw them. When I asked the woman about them, she said she made them with various stones, but the teal color of this one was inspired by a friend who had been sexually assaulted. There’s a card in the box about the woman’s shop and the story behind the earrings.
Rae blinks at me. “Aaron, these are beautiful. And you know—”
“What they mean? Yeah. I was going to get them even before I knew the story behind them. You’ve always been a warrior, Rae. You’ve always been… unafraid, but what you went through—” I pause, wanting to use the right words. “You had to fight to come out on the other side an even stronger version of yourself. And that’s something I admire about you.”
She nods as she sniffles back tears, then she looks at me again. “Thanks, Ace.”
“Always.” My voice is thick with emotion that I try to push away.
“Okay, your turn. I didn’t write you a whole card but there is a little note.”
I pull the paper off and see what looks like a five-by-seven photo in a frame, but there’s a note covering it. Like her, I read it out loud.“Aaron, this is a little reminder that we all go through hard stuff. I know this year has been tough, but I promise, good things are coming. XO Rae.”
I glance at her before gently pulling the paper off the glass. What I see when I do is something only she could have given me. It’s a custom-made hand-drawn picture set up to look like a collage. There’s a baseball, a glove, my jersey, what looks like a sketch of us from prom, a sketch of me with Miles and Joel from behind with our baseball jerseys on, a sketch of theYo Taco!truck, a sketch of the six of us as kids, and a handful of other meaningful things from our childhood or Ida. Over the top of it all is a quote from Babe Ruth.“Every strike brings me closer to the next home run.”
“There’s an artist on Etsy who does all kinds of pictures like this. I worked with him to make this one. All of that might not make you think of a home run, but hopefully they’re things that bring you happiness.”
I haven’t said anything because I can’t. I’m too busy telling myself not to cry over and over.
I finally look at her, but I can’t hide the emotion on my face or in my voice. “Thank you. This means a lot.” I blow out a shaky breath.
She leans in and gently kisses my cheek. “You’re gonna figure it all out. I’m here for you.”
I nod, pushing down tears. “I know. Thanks. I, uh, I needed this today.”
Our eyes lock and we share an intensely emotional moment. It’s the kind I can only have with her, the kind where it feels like her soul is trying to read mine.
She inhales sharply as she scooches closer to me. Her hand slides over mine. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asks softly.
My eyes meet hers. She always wants to fix everything, wrap it up in a neat little bow. This doesn’t work that way, so I shake my head. “No. Just my stuff to figure out. I’ll be fine.”
The warmth that was surrounding us falls away. Sadness marring her eyes, she slowly pulls her hand away and scoots backward. “Right.”
And in an instant, the moment between us, the connection, it all falls away.
I clear my throat and stand up. “I should get going.”
“Yeah, okay.” She stands up and fidgets with the jewelry box still in her hands.
Great, now it’s awkward.
I slide my coat and shoes back on and sit down on the chest by the window. As I open it, she says, “Thanks, Aaron. For the earrings. They mean a lot.”
I nod and gesture to the picture she gave me. “So does this. Thank you too. And, uh, Merry Christmas.”
Before she can say anything else, I slide out the window as she gives me a halfhearted wave. As I pull the window closed, I hear her whisper, “Merry Christmas.”
I sigh and shake my head as I walk down the stairs. How did I manage to ruin such a perfect moment? We had a great time exchanging presents. She asked me to talk, I said no. Why isn’t that okay? Why does it bother her so much? No one else can solve my problems, yet they all want to talk to me like they’ll somehow have the answers or come up with something I haven’t. There’s not an answer. There’s just me dealing with—or not, as the case may be at the moment—my own shit, alone.
