Orel found it hard to decide what order the best days of his life went in.
There was the day of the Arm's Length Dance, the first genuine hug he had received in a long, long time. There was also the Christmas he had spent with Coach Stopframe. Up until his dad's drunken accidental confession of love, it had been a good Christmas full of fun, and no fighting and yelling. The day Shapey said a complete sentence to him. (The sentence was 'you're a poopy face', but hey, it was still a complete sentence and Orel had been proud). The day he graduated from college; he had a degree and was ready to take on teaching with as much love as possible to make a positive impact on his students' lives. And there was, of course, the day he married the love of his life. He was not ashamed to admit that he had cried that day, watching her walk down the aisle, looking like an angel. His father said he was throwing his life away, doomed to submit to years of nagging. Orel hadn't believed him for one moment. They would be different. He knew he was agreeing to a partnership with someone who loved him, and perhaps this was something to be passed down to future generations, an example of how it was to be done. Instead of the way his parents had done it and her parents, and their parents before them.
They would work to be different.
And they were succeeding. Their second wedding anniversary rolled around, another best day for the list, and they were still very much in love. They had never even had a major fight. It was smooth sailing all the way.
After that, it started to get confusing.
Christina had never been one to keep secrets from her husband. He was just so sweet, and it was easy to tell him things. He was so open with her, which made it easy to return the same.
It almost surprised her how badly she didn't want to tell him this. At first, she figured that maybe she needed a little time to herself to adjust to the two lines on the test. But then a day went by. And now two. It wasn't getting any easier to think of.
This is stupid, she thought. She had always wanted kids. And she had talked about it with Orel. They had even gone as far as discussing name ideas. So he would be happy to hear that she was pregnant, right?
Her parents' screaming immediately came to mind.
How dare you, you-
It wasn't my fault!
Of course, it was, it was your choice to
Where else was I supposed to go, I mean- you've been 'nauseous'-
If word gets out about this-
A man has needs Poppit-
Our reputations will be ruined-
Why couldn't we stop at Christina?
Maybe Christina should have been happy that she was a wanted child. But honestly, she had only felt sick to her stomach. She never felt all the way wanted. Maybe a better term for it would be expected. The expected child, that came with the marriage and the white picket fence.
That was the day her parents stopped pretending to like each other in front of Christina.
Men are senseless creatures, Christina. Her mom would tell her these things all the time. Whenever Dad made her mad. You just put up with them all the time, their faults and their infidelities... She made sure Christina never forgot that part. The infidelities. They had probably happened when Poppit was pregnant with Christina too. I'm only preparing you for the real world, darling, she would say, when Christina tried to talk back.
Women like us are never enough for a man.
Orel knocked gently on the door to their bedroom. Christina was sitting on the edge of the bed and turned to look at him. There was still that familiar softness in her eyes, but just behind it was something new and reserved. He sat down on the bed behind her.
"What's up?" he asked softly, laying his hand on her back, and rubbing between her shoulder blades. She leaned into the contact.
"What do you mean?" she murmured.
Orel wasn't exactly sure how to tell her without seeming confrontational. "You've just seemed..." distant, secretive, "...a little off lately. Is something wrong?"
Christina hummed softly. "No..." her answer wasn't convincing.
Orel wrecked his brain for anything that could be wrong. What was he doing differently that made her withdraw?
Was he spending enough time at home? He had been staying after school to lesson plan for the past few days. Maybe she needed more attention. She was still hesitant to ask for those kinds of things, even when each request was met with affection. He leaned forward, brushing her hair to the side, and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. Then he slowly moved down to the space between her neck and shoulder. Christina felt his hand move down to her waist and squirmed a little bit. The nagging worry moved to the front of her brain again.
"Orel?" Her voice wavered the slightest bit.
He lifted his head, giving her a little space. "Yes?"
Something made her throat constrict, and she choked on her words. How would she tell him without seeming accusatory? It wasn't as if he would actually-
Men have needs.
-do anything like that. This was Orel. Besides, she could handle everything at once. She could be enough.
"Christina?" Orel saw the odd expression on her face and scooted closer to her. "You can tell me anything, you know. I promise. What's wrong?"
Her expression crumbled, and when she leaned forward he caught her. He heard her sob, the noise slightly muffled in the front of his shirt. "Christina..."
"I'm sorry," Christina choked out, making a valiant effort to contain her emotions but ultimately failing. "I'm sorry, I-"
"Sh..." Orel stroked her hair, waiting for her breathing to slow down. "It's okay. It's alright, you aren't doing anything wrong."
"Y- yes," Christina hiccuped, "I am. I kept something from you for a dumb reason." The small girl in the back of her head almost expected the hand in her hair to tighten and pull, to drag her to a study visit.
Of course, that didn't happen.
"You don't have to tell me if you aren't ready," Orel said, his voice soft in her ear. "I trust you."
Christina started sobbing again. Orel eventually laid down, still holding Christina to his chest. He tugged the sheets up over them both. She tried to take a few deep breaths to slow down her crying. "Do you want the light off?" he asked. Christina nodded, so he reached over and switched the lamp off. Christina pressed her ear to Orel's chest. His heartbeat matched hers.
"You don't have to say anything yet," Orel said. "But when you do, I want to help. Okay?"
Christina swallowed. She still felt like she might totally unravel again at any moment. "My dad cheated on my mom." Orel was quiet. He nodded.
"Mine too. It sucks, it really does. I'm sorry." He kept running his fingers through her hair, at a slow, soothing pace.
"He told her, it was because..." Christina paused. She hated saying it out loud. "Because she wasn't satisfying him. While she was pregnant. And that it was important to him that... I guess a little more important than her." Christina was afraid that nothing she was saying made any sense. "She reminded me of it all the time."
"That's awful. You didn't do a damn thing to deserve that kind of treatment."
"Is it... really that important to men?"
"I don't think it is, it sounds like your dad didn't want to take responsibility for his actions," Orel murmured.
Christina sighed. "If it does end up being important... just don't tell me who."
Orel sat up. "What?"
"I- I said if it ends up being important-"
"I know what you said, Chrissy," Orel pulled her into an even tighter hug. "I just- Why did you think that would happen? I could never do that to you."
"I don't know. Whenever Mom mentioned it she told me I would have to put up with the same thing. She told me all men are unfeeling and traitorous." When she said it out loud, it seemed a little more silly and less like something that could really happen. "I'm sorry. I never should have even thought that you would do that. You aren't like that."
"It's okay. We're going to be different from them, remember?"
"Yeah," Christina agreed, laying back down. She tugged lightly on Orel's sleeve, and he laid back down and pulled her close again. "Sometimes, you seem too different than them. Like, too good to be true."
"I know what you mean." Orel smiled sadly. "I know that feeling."
"But it is true, and that's the best part," Christina wiped the remaining tears from her face and smiled.
Eight months later, Orel sat in the living room, trying to remember how to slow down videos. It was somewhere in the settings...
Snow was falling outside, and the only sounds in the house were Christina's light snoring and the soft Christmas music that played in the living room. Orel glanced away from his knitting to tuck the blanket around his wife, sleeping on her side with one arm slung protectively over her belly. She was due to give birth any day now, and Orel needed to finish this project before then.
He would probably be able to do it, the blanket was nearly done. He spread it out across his lap, the slightly crooked nativity scene that he had spent weeks on. All the rows he had worried over every stitch of. He felt himself getting choked up again, thinking of finally meeting their child.
This was going to be the best Christmas ever.