Page 2 of A Constant Christmas
He brings the bag of Chinese food into the kitchen and starts unloading all the take-out boxes. Instinctively, I begin to make plates for each of the kids, but Tyler puts his hand on mine.
“Hey, I’ve got the kids. You make yours and have a seat.”
“It’s alright. I’m already doing it,” I retort. I know he’s just trying to be nice, but I mean I’, already in the middle of doing it anyway.
He sighs but starts making his own plate.
Five minutes later, we are all eating, and the kids are talking their dad’s ear off. The twins are in school now, but with all of their sports and extra-curricular activities, it doesn’t offer much of a reprieve. Since my evenings are usually quite busy, I use the time they are in school to catch up on housework. In other words, my free time is extremely limited.
When we are all done eating, I clear the plates from the table and begin running hot water in the sink to rinse them before loading them into the dishwasher.
I feel the strong arms of my husband reach around me. No matter what, there is no safer place in the world to me than in his arms.
I turn around to look at him, taking a moment to just admire how attractive he is. He has dark hair that is a little longer on top, but he wears it pushed back from his face. His skin favors that of his Columbian mother, but his eyes are his father’s crystal blue ones. Stubble covers his cheeks and jaws and is a bit longer than it once was. He is over six feet tall, and his body is lean and looks like it’s been cut out of marble.
Even after three kids, he is just as handsome as he was the day that we met. I swear he must be drinking from the fountain of youth behind my back. He’s an Adonis, and I am the crypt keeper.
He takes his thumb and strokes it over my cheek. “I’ll do the dishes. You go upstairs and take a little time for yourself. Take a bath. Read a book. I’ll handle the kids.”
“No, it’s…” I begin to protest, but he stops me.
“Sam, this isn’t up for discussion. Go upstairs and unwind.”
My husband doesn’t pull the whole Alpha male card very often, so when he does, I know that he’s serious.
“Okay,” I say with a weak smile.
I begin to walk toward the stairs when I hear, “And Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
Chapter Two
Tyler
“Daddy, read us another story!” Lilah squeals.
“Yay! One more!” Abby echoes.
“No. Bedtime, girls. You need to get some sleep.”
“But Daaaadddyyyy,” they whine.
“Nope. Go to sleep. Love you girls,” I say while shutting off their light.
They both sigh but tell me they love me as I walk out. I thought when they went to school, it would tire them out a bit more at night. No such luck though. They’d stay up all night if we let them. And now that they are home for Winter Break, they’re even more hyper than usual.
I’ve already gotten Jonathan put down while the girls were brushing their teeth. Although the bedtime routine seems to wear me out, I do it as often as I can to give Sam a break.
Something is bothering her, and I’m wondering if it goes beyond her just being tired from the kids. I can read Sam Wendell like the back of my hand, and I can tell when something is wrong. Trouble is that this time, she’s doing a damn good job of hiding what it is.
My wife and I have been through hell and back together. She has overcome more than most women should ever have to (thanks to a crazy ex who did awful things to her), but she came out the other side stronger than ever. When I tell you, Samantha Wendell is a force of nature, I mean it.
The woman makes a hurricane look like nothing more than a little bit of rain.
But that spark that once raged inside of her seems to be getting slowly extinguished.