from him, and didn’t want one.
After they opened their gifts, they went to midnight mass at the same church they always went to. They sang Christmas carols, and then went home. She made a fire the way Peter used to, and was surprised by how many things she was able to do without him. She was managing nicely on her own.
Eventually she sent the kids to bed since they were getting up early. They were half asleep when she went to kiss them good night, and they thanked her for a nice Christmas. She kissed them, and left the room, and went to sit in front of the fire, thinking of the past year.
It had been a year of difficult changes, losing her father, discovering that their mother was alive and he had lied to them, all hell breaking loose with Peter and their marriage falling apart. At first, she had felt like only half a person, but she was starting to feel whole again. She was lonely at times, and sometimes she missed him and the good times they’d had, but she had discovered she could function without him. She felt ready to face a divorce if she had to, and a new life on her own. After six months, it seemed like time to do something about a divorce. She had talked to Kate about it, and their mother. She just couldn’t seem to forgive him, and had begun to believe she never would. He had broken what they had, that ephemeral bubble of love and trust that one could destroy so easily, and he had. She couldn’t put Humpty Dumpty back together, and more important, she still didn’t want to. She was comfortable the way things were now.
She sat thinking about it in the living room until the fire went out, and then she turned off the tree lights, and went to bed in her new yellow bedroom that was all floral chintzes, with a beautiful headboard on her new bed, and a canopy. The furniture was white, and it looked like a sunny summer day every time she walked through it, and it made her happy looking at it. It had been worth every penny she’d spent on it. She had bought it with royalties from her books. She had put in pale yellow carpeting, moved the bed to a different place, and put built-in drawers in the closet. She bought a beautiful antique desk to work on, and a big, comfortable chair covered in the floral fabric, and a fabulous new TV. It was fancier than any other room in the house, and the next best thing to an exorcism.
She woke the children at eight, wished them a Merry Christmas and kissed them, and went to make them breakfast while they dressed. Peter was due to pick them up at nine, and take them back to the city. He said they would leave for Squaw around lunchtime. He had it all organized.
She made them pancakes, which was their favorite breakfast, and they grumbled about having to get up so early. Billy was playing games on his new iPad when Peter rang the bell after waiting outside for ten minutes. She went to the door and he looked handsome in his ski clothes. He was dressed for their trip.
“Hi. Merry Christmas,” she said, smiling at him. “They’re ready, they’re just slow eating breakfast. They’re all packed.” They had become experts at handing them off to each other, and were always punctual and respected each other’s schedules, unlike many divorced parents who showed up early or late just to annoy each other, and wound up stressing the children even more than themselves. They were careful not to do that.
There was an awkward moment as he stood there, and then she remembered his present and invited him in. He hesitated for an instant and then followed her to the kitchen. She stopped in the living room, stooped down, picked up his gift from under the tree, and handed it to him. He looked surprised and touched and embarrassed as he took it from her. It felt strange to him being back in the house again.
“I don’t have anything for you,” he said guiltily.
“I didn’t expect anything. It just looked like something you’d use.” He opened it in front of her, and smiled broadly. He loved it, and he kissed her cheek to thank her, which embarrassed her. As he did, he looked over her shoulder and