“I heard a thump. The boys are awake. I told them they had to wait until I came to get them out of their room, but we’ve got about five minutes before they try to sneak down.”
“Let’s go,” I say.
Both of us are in thermal Christmas pajamas. We’d each had a pair waiting on our side of the bed last night, another Mom tradition.
We pass the boys’ room, and I hear muffled arguing. Sara rolls her eyes and gestures for me to be quiet as we creep down the stairs, avoiding the creaky spots.
In the living room, I stop and smile, grabbing her hand. The tree is lit, the presents stacked in generous piles beneath it. Two small green ATVs sit with big red bows on the handlebars, a helmet on each seat.
“They’re going to be so excited,” I tell her.
Her smile dims the faintest bit. “At least for a little while. But it’s as ready as it’s going to get. Let’s go fetch everyone.”
She goes up to get the boys, and I head down the hall to my parents’ room, knocking and poking my head in.
“Morning, honey,” my dad says, sitting up and stretching.
“Sara’s about to bring the boys down.”
“Ohhh, let’s go.” My mom struggles up from the bed and tries to put on her bathrobe, but my mom before coffee is about like a 3 AM drunk trying to put on his coat when the bar closes.
I help her into it and follow them into the living room, then stand at the bottom of the stairs and call up to Sara, “You can release the kraken.”
The thunder of small feet follows, and the boys practically fling themselves down the stairs, skidding to a stop halfway across the floor. They spot the ATVs at the exact same time, and they turn to look at each other with open mouths and wide eyes.
“What the dirty heck!” Gage yells, then lunges for the nearest one.
I give Sara a look.
“He’s trying out swearing,” she says. “I don’t react to any of it so he won’t know when he’s hit on a real curse. But I take notes, because some of them are pretty good.”
“I might borrow dirty heck,” I say.
The boys are trying to shove their helmets on while tearing off the ribbon, and Sara laughs and helps them. There’s a touch of hope on her face. I know she’s wondering if the diversion is going to work.
I can tell it’s going to be a minute before they move on from the ATVs, so I nip back upstairs to get my phone, and my heart skips when I see a text from Levi. It came in about an hour ago.
LEVI:I’m back. Can’t wait to spend Christmas with you.
I walk slowly back down the stairs, reading the text several more times, then set my phone down while I make coffee.
He’s back from where? He could have spent Christmas EveandChristmas with me, but he disappeared without telling me. He sort of apologized in a text last night, but I still have no idea where he’s been.
Does it matter?
I guess that’s the bottom-line question, and I chew on my lip as I lean against the family room doorway, watching the boys push all the buttons on their new machines.
“Can we go outside and ride them right now, Grandpa?” Gage begs.
My dad looks to Sara, who nods. “Better let them get it out of their system.”
The twins whoop and begin dragging and pushing their ATVs toward the front door, my dad laughing as he follows behind them, coaching them. My mom stays on the sofa, blinking sleepily.
If you didn’t know what was missing, you’d almost think it was a perfect Christmas morning. An ad-worthy portrayal of “Ideal Christmas.”
But Dean is missing. That’s going to start feeling obvious all too soon.
And now, Levi is missing, something I wouldn’t have felt as keenly even a week ago.
