Book 2: Chapter 7

 Chapter 7:  I Don’t Want To Grow Up

Walking A Tightrope

Mark walked in carrying the two cups of coffee and the newspaper neatly folded under his arm.  The house was quiet so he set the coffee on the table and opened the paper to the puzzle and left them beside the Mickey and Minnie sentinels.  He paused looking at the screen saver running on the big screen TV underneath the two panoramic photos on the wall, the left from Antarctica….the right from Egypt.  He smiled as he saw the images dissolve from a baby version of Brad, to a 1-year-old, and more recently a 2-year-old heading into his day care classroom for the first time a couple months ago.  As he began to turn the door opened and Kimmy walked in. 

“Hey honey,” Mark said, “You and Sally get the kids dropped off ok?”

Kimmy nodded, came to Mark and kissed him softly on the cheek.  “We did.  Brad was so cute, he took Jillian’s hand and led her in.  They hardly noticed Sally and I trailing them in.” and she chuckled.  Mark pointed to the table, “Mission accomplished my sweet.”

Kimmy smiled and said, “What time did he wake you up today baby?” 

Mark chuckled, “I noticed the clock said 6:18 when I felt that little presence next to me.”

Kimmy shook her head, “The same pose?”

Mark smiled, “Yes….big bright eyes – like someone else I know – holding that clown blanket and just staring patiently.  When I rolled over – and he’s so sweet to speak softly not to wake you up – he said, as he does every day, “Watch Petah Pan Daddy?”

Kimmy wagged a finger at Mark playfully, “You know you do not have to get up every single day with him to watch that movie, right?  And he HAS to know that movie backwards and forwards.”

Mark playfully grabbed Kimmy’s finger, “I DO have to get up….he’s got that thing you have.  Those eyes, that smile – how am I supposed to ever not do what I’m asked?  You learned that long ago honey.”  Kimmy blushed and said innocently, “Well Mark, I haven’t the slightest idea what you are talking about!”  Mark kissed her forehead as she began the puzzle and said, “You know what’s funny about Peter Pan every morning?”

Kimmy turned with her bright eyes wide, “Do tell Captain Hook.”  Mark chuckled and said, “Because it’s so early there are some days I do struggle to stay awake, but the minute my eyes close he’s poking me and saying, “Look Daddy….Captain Hook” or “Daddy, Tinker Bell.”  It’s just adorable – it’s so early.”  And he yawned.

Kimmy put a finger to her chin and said, “Maybe I should take a turn.”  Mark had turned to head to the porch and he called over his shoulder, “Not on your life – that’s a boy thing, no girls allowed!”

Later that afternoon Mark heard the front door open and close and then a little voice call, “Daddy….home, lookee lookee!”  The screen door burst open and a little man with tossled blonde hair came bounding out on wobbly legs, running at top speed waving a piece of paper.  “Color Daddy….color!”

Mark took it as Brad beamed proudly. 

Mark smiled and noted that very few of the multiple marker colors splashed across the paper were within the lines of the illustration.  Mark held it up as Brad stood silently waiting, and said, “Did you do this….all by yourself buddy.  It’s amazing!”  Brad nodded so hard Mark imagined his hair falling off and chuckled.  “Such a big boy, where’s Momma?”  Brad turned and pointed to the door as Kimmy stood, arms crossed, smiling wide and Mark knew exactly what she was thinking. 

Kimmy watched the entire episode and her heart swelled as she thought fondly, “my boys”

The next morning, the warm September sun shone down from just above the horizon as Mark pulled into Wawa.  Allan was right behind him and they parked side by side.  Mark got out and Allan called, “Great timing Dude!”  Mark smiled and held the door.  They exchanged small talk as they prepared their cups – Allan fixing his own, Mark preparing one for him and one for Kimmy.  As they walked to the counter Mark grabbed a paper and they headed outside.  Allan smiled and said, “Brad get you up for your showing of Peter Pan again today?”  Mark nodded a tired smile on his face, “It’s our thing.  But you know, some day he’s not going to want to do it, so I’ll enjoy this time period as long as it goes.  Jillian sleep in again?”

Allan chuckled, “It’s OUR thing – have to wake that girl up every morning to get ready for pre-school.  But I think it’s good that they get to interact with kids during the day, right?”

Mark nodded, tipped his cup and said, “I need to get this home to beat the girls to the house.  Can’t be late with the girl’s morning coffee and puzzle.  Hey….wouldn’t you love to know what those women talk about every morning?”  And he chuckled.

Allan met the clink of the cup and replied with a smile, “Just like they must wonder what goes on in the parking lot her every morning.  Have a good one Dude.”

Mark pulled away and was driving along lost in his thoughts.  Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of a speeding car weaving up the cross roads towards the upcoming intersection.  Mark glanced up at the light and saw the green for his direction, just as there was a huge explosion of metal and everything went black.

Sally and Kimmy were giggling as they pulled up the road, but as Sally slowed into Kimmy’s driveway she slowed and pointed, “Why are there two squad cars in your drive honey?”  Kimmy had an uneasy feeling but fought it off and said, “That’s odd.” 

As Sally pulled up and stopped two officers turned towards them with solemn looks on their faces.  Kimmy’s radar flashed “WARNING” and she said softly, “Come with me ok?”  Sally nodded and they both slowly got out.  The male officer looked at the women and said, “Are one of you….” Kimmy raised her hand, “This is my house, is there a problem.  Oh no…did someone try to break in?”  And she looked around but Mark’s car wasn’t in it’s usual spot.  The officer looked at the other and the young female officer walked closer and said, “Ma’am, I’m afraid there’s been an accident.”  Kimmy felt light headed and felt Sally grip her shoulders to prevent her from falling.

Kimmy ran through the hospital hallway, Sally trying to keep up.  Kimmy reached the nurses’ station and said between tears, “I’m looking for my husband he was in an accident….”  The nurse pointed with a solemn look, “Three doors down, but I don’t think….”  Kimmy was long since gone before the nurse could finish.  Sally heard the gasp before she caught up to Kimmy.  Kimmy’s hands went to the glass on the door as she began crying.  Sally looked over her shoulder to see Mark laying motionless in a bed, a blur of bandages and wires hooked to monitors.  Kimmy pushed the door open and went to Mark.  She took his hand, “Baby….oh please baby.”  And she began shaking softly as emotions overcame her.  She looked at Sally who was standing open mouthed.  Kimmy whispered between sobs, “Is he…is he….”  Sally shook her head pointing to the monitor.  “That’s his heartbeat honey.”  Kimmy felt a wave pass through her but when she turned back to her motionless husband the tears returned.  “Oh honey….come on honey…..”  Sally tried to take it all in to document it mentally to share with Allan.  The bandages on the head, his right arm bandaged from elbow to wrist.  The many small cuts on his face and on his left arm.  The door opened quietly and a doctor walked in looking at his clipboard.  He looked up and said, “Are…” and Kimmy took a breath, “I’m his wife….what’s wrong with my husband?”  The doctor walked over with kind eyes and said, “Let’s sit down….and I’ll explain.”  Kimmy looked at Sally and thought, “If I have to sit down this can’t be good.”  Sally circled behind Kimmy and put her hands on Kimmy’s shoulders to steady her and support her.

Kimmy said in a hopeful whisper, “Please….just please before anything else…will he….will he be ok?”  The doctor took her hands as he pulled his chair close and replied.  “I’m Dr. Montgomery and I’m taking your husband’s case.  I won’t sugar coat anything, just honesty….I want you to know that up front.”

Kimmy’s pulse roared in her ears and she nodded shakily.  Sally gripped Kimmy shoulders more firmly.

“First to answer your question…..I’m encouraged and I would say probably he will come through this alright.”

Kimmy’s hand went to her mouth and she cried softly, “PROBABLY?  Oh my god….” The tears began to stream once again.  Kimmy reached over and took Mark’s motionless hand and breathed, “Please honey…..”

The doctor squeezed her other hand and said, “Let me explain…it’s important you understand what’s happening and what we are doing about it.”  Sally gripped Kimmy’s shoulders and said softly, “Listen to the doctor honey….he’s going to make Mark better.  You have to listen honey.”  Kimmy tried to square her shoulders but the tears fell freely now.

The doctor took a deep breath, “OK….we have two issues we’re dealing with here.”  Sally’s breath caught and Kimmy shook her head and then looked up trying very hard to be brave.  She glanced at Mark and gripped his hand more firmly.  “First,” Dr. Montgomery began, “since your husband arrived he’s not changed from this condition,”  Kimmy could barely get out, “He’s been unconscious the entire time?”

The doctor nodded and Kimmy began crying again.  Sally’s eyes misted.

Dr. Montgomery continued looking at Kimmy firmly, “….so we aren’t sure.  But we did an X-ray and his fourth vertebrae is at an angle.  I’m thinking it’s NOT the case, but it could lead to paralysis.”  The word landed like a blow.  Now Kimmy’s cries were more audible.  “But….” Dr. Montgomery continued, gripping Kimmy’s hand and forcing her to focus, “But….it does appear to be an old injury, perhaps from high school football or another sport.  But to be sure, that’s why we have those two sandbags by his head.”  Kimmy looked over and noted what had appeared to be pillows pushed up against Mark’s head.  “You….you…you said two issues….what else?”

Doctor Montgomery took another deep breath, “I see by the medical records your husband is on Xaralto?  Why is that?”  Kimmy said softly, “He’s had blood clots for a while.”  The doctor nodded.  “As we thought.  Again, I’m encouraged but here’s the thing….until we get through the next few hours we won’t know if he’s got internal bleeding going on and that would be problematic.”

Kimmy’s mind flashed back to the initial diagnosis and Dr. Lopez warning, “no big accidents.”

Kimmy tried to be brave and said, “Why are you encouraged?”

The doctor rose and pointed to Mark.  “You see the bandages on his head and right arm?  That would indicate he tried to protect himself.  But note that the left arm is not cut, but is bruised pretty badly.  If I were guessing, for some reason his left arm found it’s way in front of his abdomen and took the brunt of the blow while the right arm and head were exposed to the shattering glass.  IF that’s the case, his arm protected his internal organs and he should be without internal bleeding.”

Kimmy looked at Mark and thought “even in the midst of an accident somehow he tried to be protective.”

She squeezed his hand and whispered, “Oh baby….come back to me, you promised….”

The doctor rose and said, “I’ll be back shortly.”  Allan appeared in the door and was motionless.  Just then Kimmy felt a small grip on her hand, “DOCTOR….I think he squeezed my hand!”  Tears softly fell from her eyes and she said again, “Honey….I’m here….can you hear me?”  She leaned in closely as Dr. Montgomery watched carefully, “I think he hears you, say something else.”

Kimmy leaned in, “Oh baby please….I’m here…I’m right here.  You have to come back to me, please.”

Mark’s bandaged arm lifted ever so slightly and brushed Kimmy’s hair and a hoarse, “OK” came out.  Kimmy broke into sobs, relief crashing over her and the doctor smiled ever so slightly.  Sally was standing by Allan and looked up at him with wet eyes and Allan said, “The guy loves that girl so much, he’ll never give up fighting to come back to her.”

Working My Way Back To You Babe

When Mark opened his eyes, the world felt distant, as though he were surfacing from deep water. The light above him was too bright, the air too still, and there was a dull throbbing behind his temples that made thought feel heavy. The first thing that came into focus was Kimmy — hovering close, her face inches from his, her fingers wrapped firmly around his hand as if she were anchoring him to the earth itself. Her eyes were swollen and red, lashes clumped slightly from tears she had clearly not tried to hide.

In a hoarse whisper he managed, “Baby… why are your eyes so red?”

Relief and disbelief flashed across her face at once. “You’re in the hospital, honey,” she said softly, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “Don’t you remember?”

He blinked, trying to gather the fragments. The ceiling tiles. The steady monitor beside him. The weight of bandages. Then it struck him — the green light, the sudden flash of metal, the impossible sound. His brow tightened. “There was a crash,” he murmured. “Was I…?”

The question hung unfinished between them. Kimmy leaned closer, her voice trembling but steady. “You were in a bad accident. But you’re here. You came back to me.”

He flexed his fingers experimentally, then lifted his hand an inch off the bed and stared at it as if verifying something sacred. “Well,” he said faintly, attempting a crooked smile, “that works.”

Kimmy cupped his chin gently and turned his face back toward her. “Your fourth vertebrae is at an odd angle but they ran tests this morning and it’s an old injury, so no that problem is resolved. But….” Mark gave her a concerned look, “But what honey?” Kimmy wiped her eye and took a breath, “Do you remember what Dr.Lopez told you?” He saw the shadow pass through her expression. “Dr. Lopez,” he whispered, the memory surfacing. “No big accidents.”  He looked at his arms and searched Kimmy’s face. Kimmy explained they were waiting for test results, “They think you didn’t have any internal damage.” Mark took Kimmy’s hand in both his hands, “I am SO sorry honey….it wasn’t my fault….I remember I had the green light and then…everything went black.” “They’re waiting on other test results.”  She nodded. “They think your arm took most of the impact. They’re encouraged there’s no internal bleeding, but we’re waiting to be sure.”

Kimmy climbed carefully onto the edge of the bed, mindful of wires and bandages, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders in the tightest embrace she dared give. “I asked you to come back to me,” she whispered against his hair, her voice breaking. “And you did. That’s all I needed.”

The door opened softly behind them, and Dr. Montgomery entered with a faint smile that Kimmy caught immediately. She straightened, hope flashing across her face. “Test results?”

“Clear,” he said gently, lifting the chart just slightly.

The word settled over the room like sunlight through a storm cloud. Mark exhaled deeply, not realizing until that moment how tightly he had been holding himself together. Kimmy pressed her lips to the top of his head and closed her eyes, relief washing over her in a tremor she did not try to hide.

“You are officially my responsibility now,” she whispered, brushing her thumb over his knuckles. “And I’m getting you back all the way.”

Dr. Montgomery stepped closer, glancing between them with quiet understanding. “You’re fortunate,” he said, his tone carrying more than medical meaning. “This woman hasn’t left your side. I’m convinced she had something to do with you waking up.”

Mark turned his head slowly and met Kimmy’s gaze, something deeper than gratitude flickering there. “I promised I’d always be there for her,” he said. “I wasn’t about to stop trying to get back.”

---

Home

When the automatic doors opened and the nurse wheeled Mark toward the exit, Allan and Sally stood instinctively. Kimmy walked beside him, one hand firmly wrapped around his and the other resting lightly on the arm of the wheelchair as though steadying the entire world by sheer will. Her eyes never left him.

Allan leaned toward Sally and whispered, “She wouldn’t have walked out of here without him.”

Sally blinked away tears. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen love like that. Either direction.”

Brad stirred against Sally’s shoulder, blinked at the sight of his father wrapped in bandages, and giggled with the uncomplicated joy only a toddler can summon. “Ha ha, Daddy got a big boo boo.”

The tension cracked instantly. Even Mark laughed, the sound weak but real.

The climb up the front steps felt steeper than it ever had. Allan steadied Mark’s wrapped arm while Kimmy’s own arm remained looped tightly through his, Brad perched on her hip as if she were determined to hold both of her boys at once. Inside, Mark eased carefully onto the sofa, the simple act draining more energy than he expected.

“Whew,” he murmured. “Didn’t realize how little I had in the tank.”

Brad toddled toward him, arms outstretched, but Kimmy’s tone shifted instinctively. “Not today, honey.”

“It’s okay,” Mark began gently, but she met his eyes with a firmness that left no room for debate.

“Not today baby, you rest….Im fixing you some lunch.” Brad turned his attention to his toys and Allan whispered, “She’s clearly in charge.” Sally put Jillian into the playpen with Brad and headed to the kitchen. When she came up behind Kimmy standing at the window Sally heard the very soft cries. “He’s home honey,” she said squeezing her shoulders. Kimmy turned and said “I really….REALLY could have lost him. I just can’t ….” Sally hugged her and said softly, “You’ve got this honey and we are here to help if you need us.” The first night home Mark was restless and convinced Kimmy he could handle the “Peter Pan Morning duties.” She only relented when insisting she’d curl up beside him in the sofa with Brad. “But…” she said wagging her finger sternly, “Wawa runs are suspended indefinitely-don’t even think about it.” Despite her crooked smile, Mark felt the firmness in her tone.

---

Recovery

The weeks that followed unfolded slowly, deliberately. The scar along Mark’s hairline faded from angry red to pale memory. The stiffness in his movements softened day by day, and the house gradually found its rhythm again. Brad grew steadier on his feet. Kimmy grew steadier in her breathing. But something had shifted — not outwardly dramatic, just tighter, more intentional. She checked his medications without apology. She lingered in doorways when he left. At night, her hand rested over his chest, not loosely, but firmly.

---

The Porch

Late one cool November morning, they sat side by side on the porch, wrapped in sweatshirts, watching the creek ripple below in quiet reflection. Mark broke the silence slowly.

“There’s something I’ve wanted to tell you,” he said, staring at the water. “But you have to promise not to say I’m weird or to call the mental hospital.”

Kimmy smiled faintly and kissed his cheek. “We both know you’re weird,” she said softly. “But no hospital. Tell me.”

Mark stared at the creek and took several long breaths, Kimmy waited giving him space. Mark turned and said slowly, “So I remember right before the crash….and then black”. Kimmy sat up straighter. Mark looked back at the creek, waited several beats and drew a deep breath. “I felt calm and there was darkness and I could feel my memories wrapping around me - at least it felt like that.” Kimmy had a concerned look but gripped his arm more firmly. “Ok, and anything else?” There was a long pause. Mark turned to her, “I seemed to be settled where I was but then there was a pin hole of light and I heard you say “Come back to me baby, please.” Her eyes filled instantly. Mark turned and looked deeply in her eyes. “It was then I realized I had to find you…..Then I felt your hand and the brightness grew..”. Kimmy was softly crying her forehead against his. “I can’t say for sure but I think I might have been….but you…..I felt your strength. And then I heard you say “You promised” and my eyes opened. Is that weird or what?” Kimmy wrapped her arms around him and said softly thru tears, “I was so afraid of losing you….so afraid.”  Her fingers tightened around his sleeve.

She pressed her forehead against his, tears falling freely now. “I was so afraid,” she whispered. “So afraid.”

He wrapped his arms around her carefully, holding her with a steadiness born of new awareness. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured.

The sun broke through the trees and warmed their shoulders, the creek continuing its steady movement below as if nothing extraordinary had happened at all. But for them, everything had tightened — sharpened — clarified.

They sat there longer than usual, neither rushing the quiet, both understanding that the ordinary had become something sacred.

Christmas Without You

Kimmy felt Mark begin to ease out of bed and, without fully waking, reached for the back of his shirt. “Wait…” she murmured, her fingers curling into the cotton as if the small grip could hold the morning still. Mark paused immediately and rested his hand gently against the top of her head. When she opened her eyes they were clear and searching. “You sure you want to go to Wawa today? You’ve gone two days in a row now, and you said you felt anxious on the road.”

He smiled down at her, patient and calm. “First, yes… I’m good. And second, I know you worry — rightfully so. But I’d tell you if I didn’t feel up to it. I waited over two months before I felt ready to drive.” He shifted again, but her hold tightened just slightly.

“Not yet, baby,” she said, tugging him back toward her. “Rub my back for a couple minutes. Brad will be up soon and I have to get him ready before Sally gets here.” She rolled onto her stomach and he eased the fabric of the shirt up to her shoulders, his hands moving in slow, steady circles across her back. The touch was unhurried, familiar, grounding.

“Ooooh… right there,” she whispered, tension slipping out of her voice. After a moment she turned her head and looked at him more seriously. “Listen… there are a lot of things that are going to be different around here now that you’re almost back to one hundred percent.”

Mark gave her a crooked smile. “Oh is that right?”

“I’m serious.” She pushed herself up so she could meet his eyes fully. “When I get back from dropping Brad off, you’re meeting me right here. This whole ‘we’re tired’ or ‘we’ll do it tomorrow’ thing? That’s over. THIS is going to happen. We are not missing our time together. You have a problem with that?”

His expression softened. “No ma’am. That I’m all on board with.” He brushed her hair away from her cheek. “What else can I do to make you the happiest girl on planet Earth?”

She sat up, unbuttoned one more button of the shirt she’d borrowed from him, and grinned. “Not yet, Mister.” Sliding out of bed, she paused at the doorway and looked back. “But as for the other things… those are to be determined. There will be changes. You are mine — and I’m yours — and I’m not letting time slip away from us. Now I have to get my boy up.”

Mark dressed and followed the sound of their son’s voice down the hallway. Kimmy was in the rocker helping Brad step into his little jeans when he appeared at the doorway. “Hey buddy,” Mark said warmly.

Brad spun toward him, bright-eyed. “Hi Daddy! Going to school… it will be fun!”

“That’s my guy,” Mark replied, stepping in to give him a high five. “Good job going back to sleep after Peter Pan.”

“Bad Hook!” Brad declared.

“Always bad Hook,” Mark laughed.

“Bye bye Daddy. Go get Momma’s coffee?”

Mark nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

When he pulled out onto the main road, he did so cautiously, looking right, then left, inching forward before stopping again to check both directions one more time. The hesitation was subtle but real, a remnant his body hadn’t fully surrendered. From the front door, Kimmy stood with her arms crossed, watching the car creep forward before finally merging into traffic. She shook her head gently and sighed. “Men,” she murmured, though the word carried more affection than criticism.

At Wawa, Allan greeted him with a familiar grin. “What’s up, Dude… feel better driving today?”

Mark shrugged lightly. “Wish I could get over it, but man… if there are cars on the road I get this anxiousness that I can’t shake. But yes — better today. And my girl has been puzzle deprived. I need to get back to doing my job.”

Back home, he set the coffee beside the Mickey and Minnie figurines and smoothed the newspaper open to the crossword. After a sip, he wandered toward the back door and noticed his breath fogging faintly against the glass. “I’ll just sit inside today,” he muttered to himself, turning instead toward the living room where the screen saver dissolved from one photograph to another — Europe, the riverbanks, then Egypt. A picture of Kimmy at Karnak filled the screen, sunlight catching her hair as she turned toward the camera mid-laugh. He stopped, studying it. “That’s my wife… wow,” he said softly.

The front door opened moments later. “How was the drive, baby?” Kimmy called.

“Smooth sailing! Coffee and puzzle on the table… or are we—”

She interrupted him theatrically, tossing her coat to the floor and pulling off her sweater as she moved down the hallway. She paused only long enough to unfasten her jeans before stepping out of them and continuing toward the bedroom. “I’m waaaa-iting,” she called over her shoulder.

Mark rose slowly, glancing once more at the photo glowing on the screen before following her down the hall.

The next morning, sunlight filtered warmly through the picture window as they sat side by side on the sofa. “We should go to the grocery and get the turkey this morning,” Kimmy said, scribbling in the margin of the newspaper. “Is there anything special you’d like this year?”

Mark pulled her close. “Just you, baby. But plenty of mashed potatoes for the boy. I don’t know if he’ll want much turkey, but you know he’ll inhale the potatoes. Oh — and stuffing with sausage. I like when you do the Stovetop in the box with sausage.”

She nodded and made a note before glancing at him again. “You took your eye meds this morning, right?”

“Yes.”

“And Monday you’re due for your next injection. Morning appointment. Do you remember the time?”

“Pretty sure it’s around nine. He hasn’t seen me since… well, you know.”

She reached up instinctively and brushed his hair back from his forehead. “The scar is pretty much gone,” she said quietly. “But I still know it’s there.”

Mark’s eyes softened. “So sorry, honey.”

She squeezed his arm. “Okay. Help me finish this and then we’ll head out. And I’ll be doing the driving.”

He started to object.

“Don’t even,” she said gently but firmly. “I am driving.”

Thanksgiving unfolded with the scent of butter and sage filling the kitchen. Brad sat at the table proudly working on his third helping of mashed potatoes. “Tatoes, Daddy… good! More for Brad?”

Kimmy laughed. “It’s okay… he can have more.”

Mark carried the pan over with exaggerated ceremony. “Here you go, buddy.”

After the dishes were cleared and leftovers packed away, Mark slipped towards the garage. Kimmy stepped away from the counter and watched him head out then stood, listening to the faint rustle of boxes being shifted. Brad, entirely absorbed in his potato triumph, barely noticed. When the door opened again, Mark stepped inside carrying a single box.

“See,” he said lightly, extending it toward her. “Slow and steady, like you asked. I can do this.”

Kimmy smiled and returned to the counter. “I know you can.”

Brad waved from the table. “Momma, all done!”

She wiped his face and said, “Let’s read a story and maybe take a nap. Then we can help Daddy with the Christmas tree. Would you like that?”

“YAY! Peter Pan! Bad Hook!”

As Brad hurried down the hallway clutching his white clown blanket, Mark watched them go and then turned back toward the garage for the next box. “I’ll get these set up,” he said. “Then sofa time. I think somebody deserves a foot rub.”

Kimmy leaned in and kissed his cheek. “That would be wonderful.”

She watched him disappear into the garage once more, listening for the familiar sound of cardboard shifting, grateful for the ordinariness of it all — the noise, the movement, the steady rhythm of a house preparing for Christmas together.

Christmas Lights

Kimmy walked softly down the hallway, the house still wrapped in that early-evening quiet that comes after a child has surrendered to sleep. The living room glowed faintly from the lamp beside the sofa, and she paused in the doorway when she saw him — Mark sitting back with quiet pride, looking up at the assembled Christmas tree as if he had just rebuilt something far greater than branches and screws.

“See,” he announced softly without looking at her, “I’m back to being me.”

Kimmy frowned, but her eyes were bright. “You are not cleared until I say so. Now scoot down. You promised to work on my legs, honey.”

He shifted immediately, patting his lap. She stretched her legs across him, settling into the cushions as if this spot had been waiting for her all day. His hands moved gently over her calves, thumbs pressing in slow circles.

“Mmmmm… yes,” she murmured, her head falling back against the arm of the sofa. “And focus on my knee — that’s still tight sometimes.”

“How far did the boy make it tonight?” Mark asked, smiling as he worked.

Kimmy chuckled. “Peter, Wendy and the boys hadn’t even flown past Big Ben and he was out like a light. Funny how he’s wide awake one second and sound asleep the next, right?”

Mark nodded. “Must be nice.”

She opened one eye at him. “Oh hush.”

After a while she sighed contentedly. “Okay, you have to stop or I’ll never get up from here.”

He tightened his hold on her calf just enough to tease. “That’s fine with me, Pretty Woman.”

She smiled despite herself. “As much as I’d enjoy that, we should get the lights up before Brad wakes up. He can ‘help’ with the ornaments.”

Mark gave her a playful salute and stood. “I’ll get the ladder, my queen.”

He returned moments later and set it in place near the tree. He had one foot on the first step when Kimmy’s hand shot out and grabbed his arm.

“Oh no you don’t,” she scolded.

He froze mid-step. “C’mon, baby. It’s just a few steps and a little reaching. I can do this.”

“No sir,” she said firmly. “Not on my watch. Get down here. I’ll climb. You pass.”

He didn’t move. Instead, he looked at her with that half-determined, half-playful expression she knew too well. “I’m taking a stand here, woman. Hand me the lights.”

She crossed her arms.

“I know that look,” he continued gently. “But this time, against all good common sense, I will not be following directions. If I feel any twinge — arm, abdomen, light-headed — I promise I’ll stop. Please. Be a good girl.”

She frowned, but after a long second she bent down, picked up a strand of lights, and handed it to him.

He grinned and began wrapping them around the top of the tree, careful, measured, deliberate. On his second pass, something felt different. The silence. The absence of commentary. No “up a little,” no “space them more,” no “you missed a branch.”

He tested it.

He deliberately hung the next row directly below the previous one — a move that would normally earn immediate correction from the boss lady.

Nothing.

He stepped down slowly and turned toward her. She was staring at him as though he’d just walked into the room for the first time.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Where are you? Did you see where I put the lights?”

Her eyes misted before she could stop them. “I had this flash,” she whispered. “Of having to do this alone…”

The words broke something loose, and she stepped into him without hesitation.

Guilt washed over him immediately. “Honey… hey… honey.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. “I’m okay. Really. See?” He lifted her chin gently. “Look in my eyes. See me?”

She looked up, her eyes sad in a way that wasn’t dramatic — just honest. “I’m sorry I’m ruining our tree decorating. I love this so much. Ever since the first time. But it just hit me… what if I had to do this by myself?”

He pressed his forehead lightly against hers. “I promised I’d be here. And I intend to keep that promise.”

She breathed in deeply, steadying herself.

“C’mon,” he said, trying to shift the air gently. “Let’s do this. I’m putting on some Christmas music.”

She wiped her cheeks and straightened. “Put on the music… and oh my God, I’ll fix the lights. What WERE you thinking?” She let out a small giggle, the sound fragile but returning.

He smiled to himself. That’s what I want to hear.

Soon the room filled with music and color. Kimmy resumed her rightful command of the operation, directing him left and right, up and down, while he followed instructions carefully, smiling the entire time. When the last strand was in place, he stepped down and she circled the tree slowly, hands on hips, inspecting.

“Looks okay,” she said at last. “Let’s plug them in.”

He reached for the cord and the tree burst into life — red, green, gold, blue — flickering across their faces. He slipped an arm around her shoulder and she leaned into him instinctively.

“I love Christmas,” she said softly.

He kissed her temple. “I love you, baby.”

“Momma…” came a sleepy voice from the hallway. “Oooooo pretty tree!”

Brad came barreling into the room, hair wild from sleep.

“Hold on, buddy,” Mark laughed, scooping him up mid-run. “We don’t touch the tree, okay?”

Brad nodded solemnly and pointed. “See Momma? Tree is pretty. Right Daddy?”

“Very pretty,” Mark agreed.

Kimmy beamed. “We have a job for you, honey. Do you want to help Momma and Daddy?”

Brad squirmed until Mark set him down. “What Brad do?”

She walked to the table where the ornaments were laid out and picked up a red one. Kneeling in front of him, she said, “See the hook, honey?”

“Bad Hook! Captain Hook a bad man!” Brad declared, turning to Mark for confirmation.

Mark chuckled. “Different hook, buddy.”

Kimmy smiled. “This hook is sharp. It can hurt Brad. So we hold it carefully, okay?” She guided his little fingers around it. “Come on. Let’s put it on the tree.”

Brad walked carefully, as if transporting treasure, and hung the ornament with intense concentration. When it held, he turned proudly toward his father.

“Great job, buddy!” Mark praised.

Brad dashed back for another, but this time it slipped from his hand and shattered on the floor.

He froze.

Then his face crumpled.

Kimmy scooped him up immediately. “It’s okay, honey. We have lots more.”

“I got it,” Mark said calmly, already reaching for the broom.

Brad accepted a new ornament, this time walking even more slowly, and hung it on the exact same branch as the first — less than an inch away.

“Honey, you don’t—” Kimmy began, then caught Mark’s eye. He shook his head slightly, grinning.

“That’s really good,” she corrected herself warmly. “One more?”

Brad nodded enthusiastically.

“Here’s a green one,” she offered.

“No Momma… red. Red like Hook’s coat!”

She sighed dramatically and handed him another red one, which he placed beside the others in a tight cluster.

Mark covered his mouth to stifle laughter. Kimmy giggled. “Such a good helper!”

Soon Brad abandoned the ornaments for his Peter Pan backpack, dumping the plastic figures on the floor and narrating an intense sword fight between Peter and Captain Hook.

Mark leaned toward Kimmy. “Let’s do the travel ornaments while he’s in battle.”

They spread them out carefully.

Mark picked up the remaining five and smiled. “Mickey and Minnie first, right?”

Kimmy shook her head gently. “Not this year. Leave a spot.” She handed him the new Egypt ornament.

He understood.

She followed with Alaska, then stepped forward and hung Mickey, Minnie, and Baby Mickey just below eye level in the center.

Finally, she handed him the ornament she had given him their first Christmas together — the two characters under mistletoe — and kept the one he had given her.

“Now,” she said softly, “together.”

They stepped forward at the same time and placed them side by side.

They stepped back.

“Right where they should be,” Mark said quietly.

Kimmy leaned her head on his shoulder. “Where they always will be.”

From the screen saver in the background, the Carpenters’ voice drifted gently through the room, “…and in my dreams I’m Christmasing with you…”

The tree lights reflected in the ornaments — in Mickey’s glossy surface, in the curved edge of Egypt’s gold, in the small red cluster Brad had claimed as his own.

Brad’s plastic swords clacked softly on the floor.

Mark tightened his arm around Kimmy just slightly.

And this year, the lights felt brighter — not because they were new, but because they were shared.