Winterfest came upon us quickly, smelling like butter, paper, double-sided tape, and plastic storage bins we rarely opened. I had no energy to fuss with a tree, so we put all the presents in a big pile in the kitchen; there’s no good space in the house for one, anyway. Logan giggled at the sound the tape made. I threw him a few bows and ribbon strands to play with. He batted at them and gifted us with those little echoed baby squeals. The magic of Winterfest was in full effect and further confirmed my feelings of brighter days ahead. Maybe that was a mistake.
I kept breakfast light on purpose: eggs and toast. We might cut corners on holidays sometimes, but I never compromise on our grand meals. Desi plopped next to me, trying not to smile with her entire face and smirking like she had a secret. I already knew the secret, so I drew it out of her.
“So…prom season is coming up. You got any plans?”
That one eyebrow went up like her secret plan came together just as she imagined.
“I have a date,” she said with full confidence.
“That’s wonderful, Des. What’s his name?”
“Josh.”
I had a soft ache in my chest—the good kind. She’s growing up so fast. Every day, I’m grateful for the youth potion and these moments I get to experience in good health and sound mind, body, and spirit. Who knows how seriously this boy would take me with a head full of gray hair and an aching back.
“I’d like to meet this Josh.”
Her smile faltered a little, but she agreed.
A knock at the front door echoed through the house in a rhythm only Chi Chi used. She crossed the threshold, all sparkly and beautiful as always, clutching a gift as if it had secrets in it. Naturally, she had to tell me the history behind the gift. She’d had it for months after seeing something that reminded her of Sophia and thought it would be nice to save it for Winterfest. She didn’t just hand over the box. She presented it as if Sophia had received the highest honor. Her eyes ran all over Sophia the way they run over everyone, like she’s reading a poem out loud.
“I am OBSESSED with this new do!! It’s soooooo sexy but still, like, very demure, ha ha!”
Sophia blushed and thanked her.
“And you keep losing weight! I see you, mama! You better be careful or I might have to snatch you up, ha ha!”
Sophia chuckled and leaned into Chi Chi with a teasing smile and said, “You promise?”
I’d gone back to wrapping gifts, but for half a second I forgot what I was supposed to do with the paper in my hands and tape stuck to my fingers. My nails pierced through the paper I held it so tight. It was a joke. Everyone in the room knew that, and my brain knew it, too. But “promise” dropped in heavy and off-key, like that bad flute in those Social Bunny memes. It almost sounded okay in spots, but it was definitely very wrong. Something in my chest pulled tight, and the magic of Winterfest faded away. The word slipped under my skin like a splinter, small, sharp, but impossible to ignore. It throbbed every time I moved. “Promise” doesn’t belong in jokes—not in our house. Not with me.
Desi saved me by announcing she was ready for presents. Chi Chi hugged everyone and threw one last bold comment over her shoulder as she sashayed out the door. Me and Desi moved toward the gift pile, and I tried to initiate normal dad protocol.
“Pick one,” I said, because that’s what a dad who’s not bewildered would say, right?
She grabbed a small, orange box—one of my gag gifts. A scowl had taken over her face even before the ribbon hit the ground. Sophia hid a quiet laugh behind her hand, covering her mouth. I laughed a beat too late. It came out scratchy and awkward.
The room was relatively quiet but still so loud. Wrapping paper tearing, Desi’s excitement bubbling, Logan’s little kitten shrieks. All of it blurred into static, like I was listening through water. Nothing felt right. My smile sat wrong on my face, lopsided and late. If I kept moving—handing gifts, making comments, laughing—maybe I could trick myself into forgetting the extra sparkle in my wife’s smile.
“Pick another,” I said.
Desi bent over and selected another box but handed it to me instead. She stood there tall, squared shoulders with a cute smug look on her face. I tried to match her pride, but my attempt fell flat, causing my cheeks to flush with embarrassment.
All day, I kept turning that moment over, hunting for the angle where it was solely friendly, just two girlfriends doing what they do, nothing to hold.
Promise.
That word ran amok in a space in my heart I thought I had locked down. I tried to close the door on it, but it wouldn’t latch.
Father Winter popped out the chimney and peered around, taking in the house and my children. The last time we met, Desi was a little tyke. And the time before that, Sophia and I were newly engaged. Knowing he knew everything, I never considered he’d watched us our entire lives until he told me I’d built such a beautiful life. Any other year, I would have blushed and offered a cocoa he wouldn’t drink.
“You wanna meet Logan, my son?” I asked instead.
Of course he did, so I handed him over. Logan took one look at him and gave us a very loud NOPE.
A big laugh tried to bully its way to my mouth, but I stuffed it down and swallowed it. Then I swallowed again for extra security. Sophia took him back, probably hoping to comfort him before he threw on the disguise. Desi ran up to Father Winter, hoping for something shiny and expensive, so I took that moment to slip away.
Cool air filled my lungs, but it didn’t cool the heat under my skin. I took a few big breaths anyway. The sound of water lapping against the docked boats and the smell of burning wood in the air attempted to calm me, but it was a big job. The sound of the door easing open definitely didn’t help.
“There you are,” Sophia said, stepping onto the porch carefully.
I didn’t look up, but I felt her standing there staring at me like she didn’t want to spook a stray. In my side view, I saw she crossed her arms tight against her chest, though the cold wasn’t sharp enough for that. She eventually came down and sat next to me. Not too close. Just enough to let me know she was there. The air between us felt colder than the worst winter night. My skin prickled, not from the chill, but from the weight of everything unspoken pressing down on me.
“You disappeared on me,” she said.
The caution in her voice aimed to soften me, but my eyes stayed on the yard. I didn’t want to make this a thing. Not here. Not with the kids inside. But it was a thing, like a sharp tag stabbing you in the neck every time you moved. She knew it too. I felt it in the pause before she spoke and the careful weight she put on the step, like she didn’t want to ignite my fuse.
“Are you mad at me?”
I shrugged. Not dramatic—just a lift of the shoulder because I didn’t have the energy to lie.
She sighed.
“Is this about Chi Chi? I was just joking around. You know how she is.”
I nodded because I do know she wasn’t serious. But I also know we have certain unspoken rules between us. We don’t joke about those things.
“You know I didn’t mean anything by it,” she said.
I listened harder to the water behind me and breathed in more of the smoky air, hoping something would take effect. She watched me, waiting for me to let her off the hook, but I didn’t have it in me.
“You said it, though,” I said finally, barely louder than the air.
My words had no anger in them, but they sat between us like broken glass, and she got cut. I could tell by the way she shifted in her seat. She leaned forward slightly, shoulders rounded, like she was trying to fold herself into the silence between us. We sat with our knees almost touching, breathing the same cool air, miles apart.
