Left to Love (The Next Door Boys) (22 page)

 

“Just be careful with me,” I warned.

 

“Aren’t I always?” He smiled back. I couldn’t believe that he took care of me the way he did.

 

I let Brian carry me out to the living room. He loved it when I let him do that. I loved his strong arms. He scrambled around in our room for a few minutes and came back out smiling.

 

“Ready?” he asked.

 

“Yep.” I was able to smile back at him now. The few calories helped so much, and the coolness of the shake calmed my body.

 

He helped me into our room, into fresh pajamas and pulled my blankets up.

 

“Think you can sleep?” he asked.

 

Everything felt and smelled fresh and clean. “Not sure.”

 

“I don’t know about tomorrow.” He sat on the bed with me, facing me, his warm hand running up and down my arm slowly.

 

“I can’t miss Christmas morning with Nathan. I’ve already missed Christmas Eve with him. You missed Christmas…”

 

“Nope.” Brian shook his head. “Nathan barely noticed me. They’re having a great time over there.

 

Tomorrow, I’m probably going to kick everyone out early,” he warned.

 

“Okay,” I agreed. “You take good care of me, Bri.”

 

“I’m glad you think so, because I’ve never felt so helpless in my whole life.” It was the first time he’d really let me see the stress of the past few days on
him. I wiped a tear from the
corner of his eye. He tried so hard.

 

“I can’t believe you’re doing this with me.”

 

“As opposed to doing what?”

 

“Running and screaming.” I tried to smile to show I was partially joking.

 

He shook his head. “Remember the scripture you shared with all of us at the beginning of you first year here?”

 

I tried to think back.

 

“From Ruth?” He tried to prompt my memory.

 

I smiled.

 


whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge
…”

 

“I remember.”

 

“Good. Because that one has stuck with me.”

 

I felt peace and I felt Brian’s hand gently touching my arm and my back, trying to help me relax so I could sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NINETEEN

 

Christmas

 

 

 

Christmas morning, Brian scooped me up in his arms and carried me out to the living room. My family had settled already, leaving me the couch to myself. Brian sat holding me on his lap.
Best seat in the room.
My body still f
elt shaky, weak, and almost Jell-o like
from my treatment and from the past few days where I hadn’t been able to keep anything down.

 

Nathan crawled up next to us with a large dragon that had come from Santa Claus. I’d missed some of his morning, but not all of it. He reached his small hand over and rubbed my head. I wanted to grab him and pull him onto my lap but didn’t have the strength, not yet. I leaned my head back against Brian’s chest. His hands never left me. He st
r
oked my arms, my legs, my head – a constant reminder that he was here.

 

Jaron and Megan sat close on the floor. Mom sat in front of Dad, leaning her back against his legs.
Family. All good. All happy. We had a lot to be grateful for.
 

 

“We have a little family tradition where we read the Christmas story on Christmas Eve, but we’re doing it this morning instead.” Dad smiled and pulled out his scriptures. I loved my dad’s quiet mannerisms. He brought peace to a room more quickly than anyone I’d ever met. Everyone knew why we hadn’t done it last night, but no one said anything. Even Nathan sat quiet, listening. Dad opened up to the New Testament and read the story I’d heard over and over throughout my youth. The story of Christ.

 

My
dad’s voice had the same low, quiet quality I
remembered.

 

I closed my eyes. It could have been last year; it could have been five years ago. The story was the same and my dad’s voice was the same.

 

“Now can we open presents?” Nathan asked as soon as my dad’s voice stopped.

 

“Yes we can.” Dad set his scriptures aside.

 

“Well, I’m going to start breakfast.” Mom stood up.

 

I didn’t move, and Brian didn’t move underneath me. I tried hard to pay attention while Nathan ripped open presents with exclamations of excitement, but I could feel the queasiness creeping in, and my hands starting to feel shaky. I didn’t want another day like Christmas Eve.

 

“I’m g
oing to slide up and make you a
shake.” Brian kept his voice quiet. He was good at reading me and what I needed.

 

I nodded and he gently slid me over to my own spot on the couch
relieved that I rarely had to ask for anything
. The noise of pots and pans and people talking felt disorienting and loud not just in my ears, but in my body. I closed my eyes and let my head rest against the arm of the couch. Jaron kneeled on the floor in front of me.

 

“Walk with me to my bedroom?” I asked. The noise continued to jar me.

 

“You want help?”

 

My shoulders slumped. “You’re way behind on the lingo here, Brother.”

 

“What do you mean?”
He held out his hands for me to take so I could get up.

 

“I mean that’s code for can I help you or I need help.”

 

“Okay.” He still wasn’t sure about what I said. He put his arm around my waist so I could lean against him.

 

“If I need Brian’s help somewhere I just ask him to walk with me. Its how he asks if I need help, too.” I whispered the words. It felt like any more force than a whisper would shake my body.

 

“That’s very decent of him.”

 

“Yes, it is.” I smiled.

 

Jaron walked me into my room. He lowered me o
nto the bed and then joined me—a sure sign he wanted something.

 

“You were right,” I said.

 

“Great.” He laughed a little. “About what exactly?”

 

“The day I got married, we were walking into the temple together and you told me that once I got married it wouldn’t be the same.”

 

“It changes things.” He nodded.

 

“Yes, it does.” I lay my head back on my pillow. “I think it’s a little hard for Mom to turn that over to Brian.”

 

“But she’s still here helping.”

 

“Yes, and we need her here helping.”

 

“So, things with you and Brian are good.”

 

There were good, the warmth spread through me. “Yeah, but I’m worried about him right now, and there’s nothing I can do.”

 

“You can be good.” He narrowed his yes, but his smile showed his tease.

 

“How about you and Megan?” I asked, changing the subject.

 

“We’re um… having a baby.” His smile spread wide, but he also watched me, watched my reaction.

 

“Wow. Does Mom know yet?” The news slowly sank in. They’d get to have a baby. We were just trying to keep me alive, and they were having a
baby. My chest clenched tightly
in an even mix of happiness and jealousy.

 

“Nobody knows yet.”

 

It was sweet of him to tell me first. “That’s crazy. You’re going to be a
dad
.”

 

“Well, look at y
ou? You’re the mother of a five-
year old!” He laughed.

 

“That’s different.”

 

His voice turned quiet. “You’re right. It’s different.”

 

I reached my arms out to give him a hug. “Congratulations. You’re going to be a great father, Jaron.” I felt so happy, but it opened new wounds just the same. It was a hard thing to reconcile.

 

“Well, I gotta get going. Megan’s parents are expecting us, I still have breakfast to eat, and I would imagine that you’d like a little peace and quiet.”

 

“Yeah, I knew today would be a rough one with all the excitement,” I agreed.

 

He started to say something again and then stopped.

 

“Spit it out, Jaron.”

 

“I still don’t feel the same spirit around you as I did last time. Don’t give up on that communication, Leigh. Take advantage, learn some more, leave us even further in the dust of your testimony
, of what you
know
.”

 

“I’ll work on it.” I slid down a little in my bed. Everything along those lines felt fuzzy. “Have fun with the in-laws.”

 

“Take care, Leigh.”

 

Brian walked through the door with a shake in hand. He and Jaron shook hands, which turned into a man-hug before Jaron walked out.

 

I concentrated only on not being sick. I looked over at Brian and wished that I felt healthier than I did. All I wanted was to take him in my arms and to feel him against me the way I had when we were first married. Right now, it felt as if it took all my strength to simply not throw up.

 

“How’s my wife?” Brian smiled warmly.

 

“Terrified of having another day like yesterday.”

 

Brian sat on the edge of the bed, holding my shake between us. “You’re already doing better than yesterday.”

 

“Good to know.” I t
ook a tentative sip. T
he cool, thick liquid felt lovely on my throat.

 

“Can I join you for a while?” he asked.

 

“Nathan?”

 

“Nathan could care less what happens or doesn’t happen in this house today. Those toys will keep him busy for hours.” Brian adjusted himself on his side of our bed and scooted over next to me, leaning his back against the wall. “I liked your dad’s reading. He does that every year?”

 

“Every year I remember.” I leaned on Brian’s shoulder and looked up at him. “Nathan will have memories of you doing that too, if you want him to.”

 

“And maybe our other kids as well.” He reached over and touched my cheek carefully with his hand.

 

I closed my eyes, and for a moment I could see us, sitting just as my parents had earlier today, our children and grandchildren in the room with us. The warm thought wrapped itself around me.

 

“I’ve known that story my whole life,” Brian said quietly. “It’s different this year. This Christmas. I think about Joseph, leading his hugely pregnant wife and not being able to find anywhere to stay, feeling so helpless and praying that someone would realize how special she was and take care of her.”

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