“Just be patient with her. You remember how patient she was about swinging.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “It’s different when you want someone else to change. Have to remember that.”
“Mmm hmm.”
“Yeah, so, anyway… We’re getting a new car. Mine gets lousy mileage and started burning oil recently. Hers gets great mileage but needs a new transmission, new tires, and a bunch of other things.”
“So… what’re you going to buy?”
“Don’t laugh,” he said. “A Volkswagen Rabbit.”
I did my best not to snicker, although I wasn’t very successful.
“Yeah, I know,” he said. “That’s what I thought at first. But lemme tell you, this new GTI is fast, man. It’s even made in America. The salesman was telling me…”
He was still singing its praises as we pulled into the bank to get a cashier’s check.
“I’m going to surprise Wren tomorrow,” he said as we returned to my car, check in hand. “Then we can drive home for the holidays in the new Rabbit.”
“Sounds like fun. Sounds like your hangover’s gone too.”
“Amazing how a check for eight grand will get your adrenaline flowing, huh?”
“Ain’t it, though?”
We bought Christmas decorations at Kmart and then picked out a tree from their lot. Trip was finally ready for food, so we ate lunch at a barbecue place nearby.
“How long are we supposed to stay out?” I asked when we finished.
He glanced at his watch and did some math. “Let’s have another Coke.
We should be fine as long as we don’t get home before… two o’clock.”
“Fine by me.”
He signaled the waitress and we settled in to wait.
I figured out pretty quickly that my surprise was upstairs in my studio.
Christy shadowed me anxiously when I went up to my bedroom, and Wren had blocked the third-floor stairs with a basket of laundry. Subtle they weren’t, but I played along and acted like I didn’t have a clue.
Back on the main level, Trip put on a Christmas album—John Denver and the Muppets, I swear—and then joined the rest of us to hang lights and ornaments. Wren had made mulled wine earlier, so the house smelled like Christmas, especially with pine from the tree. We completed the festive little scene with a dozen wrapped presents.
Wren was trying to clean out the fridge before we left for ten days, so we had a feast of leftovers for dinner. For dessert we lingered over bourbon-laced eggnog and talked about the different things our families did for Christmas.
Eventually we switched back to wine and moved to the living room to open presents. Christy was like the proverbial kid on Christmas morning (almost literally) as she pulled gifts from under the tree and placed them in front of each of us. Then she sat Japanese-style on the floor beside me and surveyed hers.
She saved the ones from me for last, and her eyes lit up when she opened the first, a leather-bound sketchbook with her initials embossed in gold on the cover. She reached for the bigger of the two remaining gifts and wasn’t the least bit surprised by the rose silk babydoll nightie. She and Wren had been looking at it in the shop, and Trip had given Wren a similar one in white.
“Open your last one,” Wren said. It was a small box, obviously jewelry.
“Let’s see what you got.”
“This one requires a little explanation,” I said. “Go ahead and open it and then I’ll tell you.”
Christy tore the wrapping from the box. It was too large for a ring, but she still glanced at me uncertainly. Then she opened it and immediately grew emotional. She showed Wren, whose eyebrows rose with curiosity and
disbelief.
“It’s perfect,” Christy said. She withdrew the small gold cross and chain.
“But I thought…”
“I’m not an atheist,” I said. “Besides, your faith is important—to both of us—so I wanted something to remind you.”
Wren smiled and gave me a nod of approval.
Christy’s eyes were still shining as she handed me the necklace and swept her hair out of the way. I clasped it around her neck, and she looked down to admire it for a moment. Then she leapt onto the couch and kissed me. Wren and Trip were both grinning when it ended, but Christy didn’t notice or even care.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said. “It means so much, especially from you.”
“Home run, dude,” Trip said.
“Well done,” Wren agreed. Then she grew suspicious. “Wait a sec, how come you haven’t opened any presents?”
“There weren’t any with my name on ’em.”
“Nonsense,” she said. “There’s one from Trip and me.”
I shook my head.
She still didn’t believe me, so she swept aside discarded wrapping paper and looked everywhere under the tree. Then she sat upright and searched her memory.
“Oh, damn!” She laughed and turned to Christy. “We left it upstairs.”
“Oh my gosh, you’re right.” She shot me a guilty look. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. Is there anything else upstairs for me? Maybe… in my studio?”
“I told you he’d figure it out,” she said to Wren. “I can’t lie to him. It really bugs me.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Wren said. “He doesn’t know what it is.”
“No clue,” I agreed.
“Come on, then!” Christy said. “Let’s go see!”
We trooped up to the third floor, and I laughed as soon as I saw the door to my studio.
“We couldn’t wrap the present itself…,” Christy said.
“…so we wrapped the door instead,” Wren finished.
“Works for me.”
“Go ahead,” Christy said eagerly, “open it.”
I ripped through the wrapping paper and then opened the door itself. I froze in surprise when I turned on the light.
“Do you like it?” Christy asked hesitantly.
“It’s… amazing!” I turned to her. “But it’s way too much.”
“Just shut up and say thank you,” Trip said. “She asked me first, and I told her it was a good idea. Besides, she got it for a good price, ’cause a certain friend of yours called the local store and told ’em one of his best students needed it.”
I blinked as the words sank in. “Hold on. Do you mean… Joska?”
“Who else?”
“Professor Joska?” I struck a lordly pose and imitated his Hungarian accent, “‘You’ll have to do better, Mr. Hughes.’ ‘I won’t accept mediocrity.’
‘You can quit at any time.’ That Joska?”
“Yep.”
Christy beamed. “He’s really proud of you. I swear.” Then she glanced at my new drafting table. “I hope you like it…”
“Like it? I love it!” She squeaked in surprise when I picked her up and kissed her. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” I set her down and put my arm around her as we admired the desk, a beautiful Hamilton with an oak top and a cast iron base.
“I realize it’s a bit anticlimactic,” Wren said, “but you have one more gift, from Trip and me.”
“Oh, right. Sorry.” I picked up the wrapped present and slid my finger under a seam to pop the tape.
Christy rolled her eyes. “He’s even neat about that.”
“You’re enough chaos for both of us,” I said.
“No kidding,” Wren laughed. “You should’ve seen us this morning.”
The present from her and Trip was a new drafting machine to go with the table. “It’s awesome,” I said. “Thank you very much. But… now I feel bad. I didn’t get you all nearly enough.”
“It isn’t a contest, man,” Trip said. Then he added with a grin, “But if it is, we win.”
Trip surprised Wren the next morning with a trip to the Volkswagen dealer.
When they returned we oohed and aahed over the new car in the driveway.
Trip and I talked about how fast it was, while Wren and Christy said how cute it was. I had to chuckle to myself when I realized what we were doing.