Hailey wiped at her tears, embarrassed to be crying in front of Grant like this for the second time that day. “You don’t deserve my tears,” Hailey forced the bitter words from her mouth. Ashamed of herself for saying such a thing, she began to cry harder. She tried to stand and move from the pew, but Grant pulled her back down, and she let him. “You can’t do this to me,” Hailey cried. “You can’t tell me you love me and a few hours later, tell me you’re extending your trip and aren’t quite sure when you’ll be back.”
Grant crossed his arms, anger showing on his face. “Why did I think you would understand why I need to do this?”
“I understand,” Hailey nodded. “I understand just fine. You scared yourself to death this morning when you said those words, and every moment since then you have wished you could take them back. You let your guard down, and you told me how you feel. It made everything too real, so now you’re running…”
“Hailey, it’s a few days,” Grant scoffed. “It’s exactly what I told you earlier. An unexpected opportunity came up. We’re out of school for the holidays; we don’t have a game during the time I will be gone; I cleared missing practice with your dad. There’s no reason for me not to go.”
Hailey checked her emotions, not wanting to be mistaken for a possessive and pathetically dependant girlfriend. She knew that must be how it looked and sounded, but that wasn’t it at all. It wasn’t the days that Grant would be gone that bothered her; what scared her was the overriding fear in the pit of her stomach convincing her that, despite his intentions, once he was away from Hope Hull, he would quickly remember the world he left behind…and he would never come back.
Hailey dug through a box of ornaments, searching for her favorite…a snowman built of basketballs. Instead, she found an assortment of homemade ornaments that she and Jessica had made in elementary school. They hung on their Christmas tree every year, so Hailey didn’t know why she was surprised to see them; she smiled as she pulled a familiar candy cane reindeer from the box. She reached for the ceramic angel she had painted in Sunday school and laughed out loud at the sight of a wooden scroll on which her teacher had painted the words Santa’s Good List. Below, Hailey had used her best kindergarten handwriting to scribble in bright green print: HAILEY NOT JESS.
Jessica and Emily were helping Jack decorate the Christmas tree as Nora sat on the floor stringing popcorn garland. She loved popcorn garland and all the memories it brought back of Tennessee Christmases long ago, but tonight her thoughts were miles away. She thought of the way she and Randy argued every year as he put up the Christmas decorations. She imagined the scene a few years earlier when she asked him to complete what seemed like a reasonably simple task of putting together the new manger she had purchased for their outdoor nativity scene. Thirty minutes later, he had declared it too Mickey Mouse and tossed a small slip of paper containing what he considered gibberish directions onto the kitchen table. The black plastic slats tucked under his arm, he bolted out the back door, leaving Nora to call after him, “Randy, don’t smoke in front of baby Jesus!”
Visualizing Randy’s inevitable annual battle with a strand of Christmas lights that usually irritated her to pieces, actually made her smile now. She thought of the way he climbed the ladder every year to straighten the angel atop the tree half a dozen times as she complained it was turned too far to the left, then too far to the right. She giggled to herself as she recalled how Grant had come home after his last day of school before Christmas break last year, moments after such a fight, only to quip, “a liberal angel…nice.” Randy had snatched the stepstool and drug it toward the tree, mumbling, “I told you your eyes are screwed up, Nora. He’s right; that thing is leaning way to the left.”
She thought of David, Joanna, Eisenhower and Rachel…all in their Christmas pajamas, sitting below the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She recalled a picture she had of the four of them, all proudly posing with their favorite Christmas gifts…messy hair, snaggle-toothed grins…childish laughter…a mother’s picture of pure perfection, years before the life she had always envisioned took some very unexpected turns.
Hailey, a big red bow plopped on her head, hurried down the hall toward Grant’s room. When she entered, Grant looked up from the duffle bag he was packing and laughed. He took the red Christmas bow off of her head. “Are you my present?”
Hailey took the bow from Grant’s hand and stretched to sit it atop his head. “And you’re mine!”
“But,” Grant frowned, “you want my presence and not my presents, right?”
Hailey swallowed, purposefully working to keep her tone light. “About that,” she shook her head. “I’m sorry I was so harsh about you leaving. Love is about trust, Grant…and I do trust you.”
“I told you I love you, and I meant it,” Grant said sincerely. “I want you to trust me, Hailey, but I realize that trust is something that is earned.”
“I do trust you,” Hailey nodded. “Don’t misunderstand that…”
“No,” Grant shook his head, “I need to be held accountable…make me earn it.”
Hailey smiled. “Okay,” she laughed admirably. She shook her head, in awe of the man standing before her.
“What is it?” Grant asked. “What is that look?”
Hailey continued shaking her head, a smile stretching wider and wider across her face. “I don’t know,” she laughed. “You’re not like anyone I’ve ever known in my life…or like anyone else I’ll ever know for that matter.”
“What can I say…He broke the mold,” Grant shrugged playfully.
Hailey forced a laugh that came out sounding more like a cry. She knew he was joking, but she couldn’t help but feel that his words could not have been more accurate. She was the luckiest girl in the world. He was everything she had ever dreamed of, everything she had prayed for and so much more that she could never have imagined on her own.
“You could go with me, but you don’t have a passport,” Grant said, zipping his bag.
“It’s fine,” Hailey shook her head. “Like you said, it’s only a few days, and you’re coming back…”
“I’m coming back,” Grant winked. “North Carolina. London. Tennessee.”
“So who is this man you’re so jazzed about having dinner with tomorrow night?” Hailey flopped on the bed.
“Colonel Oliver North, a Naval Academy grad and career marine,” Grant responded with a smile. “I can’t miss the opportunity to benefit from the wealth of knowledge and experience he has to offer, even if I’m fairly certain I’m walking into an ambush orchestrated by General Cohen.”
Hailey laughed. “Well, you know what they say, ‘if at first you don’t succeed…’”
Grant moved his backpack from the bed and sat down next to Hailey. “Yep, if at first you don’t succeed, quit and destroy all evidence of any previous attempts.”
Hailey rolled her eyes and kissed his cheek. “Only you…”
“You love me,” Grant rolled his eyes.
“We’re all in the living room putting up the Christmas decorations, if you want to help,” Hailey suggested.
“How’s Mom?” Grant asked.
“Fine, I think,” Hailey shrugged.
“She loves Christmas,” Grant recalled. “She loves any holiday really, but she loses it every year when she starts decorating the tree because my brother made her this Christmas ornament…” Grant shook his head. “Nevermind…”
“What did he make her?” Hailey asked, her interest so genuine.
“I don’t know. It’s some stupid looking school project,” Grant grumbled.
“Hey,” Hailey sighed, slapping his arm. “She’s a mom! Of course it’s special to her! I’m sure if you ever have kids, anything they make for you will take on a whole new meaning!”
“Whatever,” Grant scoffed. “I’m still operating under the impression that I would maintain some level of objectivity in the instance that any genetic responsibility of mine felt tremendous sense of false accomplishment at creating the most cockeyed, crippled gingerbread man…”
“What?” Hailey exclaimed.
