writing. She had a manuscript for one of her young adult books that she wanted to finish. She had started it that summer, at the ranch, and hadn’t turned it in yet. It was about a thirteen-year-old orphan and the family who adopts her, and how she changes them.
Peter had been reliable about seeing the children every other weekend, but Billy’s sports and extra classes and Morgan’s plans with friends made it complicated, so Caroline had been generous about the holidays, to make up for any time he’d missed. She didn’t want to use their children to penalize him, which he appreciated.
She and Peter hadn’t had lunch or dinner together again. She didn’t want to, and he could sense that, so she didn’t encourage it, and he didn’t push. He was pleasant when they spoke and so was she, but she still felt cautious about spending time with him. He didn’t want to intrude on her so he waited for the kids in the car when he picked them up. He had literally not set foot in their house since June. Caroline felt like it was her home now, after he had violated it, so she didn’t invite him in. And she saw their friends on her own. Word had gotten out after the summer that they were separated. It worried her that with separate social lives, they seemed to be drifting further apart, rather than back together. Caroline had promised herself that she was going to broach the subject with him again after New Year’s. By December, she had made her decision about a divorce, but didn’t want to tell him before Christmas and ruin the holidays for him or the children. It had been six months since she’d discovered his affair. She wasn’t angry anymore, or devastated, but she didn’t feel any closer to him either. She was convinced now that the damage was irreparable.
Caroline made their traditional turkey dinner on Christmas Eve and she, Morgan, and Billy ate in the dining room, on their best china, with good crystal and silver, with a tablecloth and a centerpiece of poinsettias. She used the same decorations they always did. They put up a tree together a week before Christmas, and made an outing of buying it. She put Christmas carols on their stereo system while they put the ornaments on the tree. Everything was the same, except it was all different. Without Peter, there was a hollow feeling to it, like a bell with no ringer.
He had told her that he wasn’t decorating for Christmas, or getting a tree. His apartment was too small, and they were leaving for Tahoe on the afternoon of Christmas, so there was no point buying a miniature tree, since they were celebrating it with their mother on Christmas Eve. And the kids said they were fine with it.
They exchanged presents under the tree after dinner, and Billy screamed when he saw the new version of PlayStation from his mother, and the games to go with it. He had wanted a video camera desperately, which she had gotten him, and an iPad because his had been stolen at soccer practice. She’d bought him a new ski jacket to wear when he went away with his father. He had outgrown everything from the year before. And Peter had promised him new skis and boots and a “cool” helmet. Morgan was always easier because she wanted clothes. She had just turned sixteen and had given her mother a list of purses, shoes, skirts, sweaters, and a million other small things, and makeup, and she needed a new laptop, and Caroline got her the latest one. Peter was getting her the new cellphone she wanted, and new ski equipment too. So they had Christmas covered. Caroline had decided not to buy Peter a gift, and then two days before Christmas she felt guilty when she saw a sweater she knew he’d love. It was a black cashmere turtleneck he could wear skiing or on weekends. She bought it for him and wrapped it, and put it under the tree. Morgan noticed it immediately.
“You bought Dad a present?” She looked pleased and took it as a good sign.
“Yeah, I did.” She felt stupid doing it, and didn’t want to mislead him into thinking she felt differently. She didn’t. But Christmas was a special time, and she felt mean not including him in the goodwill of Christmas.
“That was nice of you, Mom.” Caroline didn’t expect a present