Chapter 10: Silver Bells
Jasper
Sunday, December 10, 2023
Forks, Washington
It's late, and I should be getting to bed, but I have a stack of papers left to grade by tomorrow, so instead, I'm holed up in our home office, trying to remember why I cared enough about the Boston Tea Party to make my students write papers about it.
Alice is passed out, and for once, so is Evie. The house is quiet, the only sound coming from my neighbor's yard where a loop of Christmas songs will play until he turns it off at ten.
I let out a yawn as I gaze down at the paper in front of me and remind myself to talk to the kids about using spell check.
Outside the window, my neighbor's lights are blinking, and I set my pen down and reach out, pulling the curtain back. Sycamore Lane is bright and full of Christmas magic. I was supposed to put up the lights today, but I've been deterred once again by piles of work I'm behind on.
There is a small crackle over the monitor, and then I can hear Evie's crying starting up.
I let out a long breath, standing from the desk. She's sleeping in her own room to give Alice a little break, and I want to make sure I'm able to grab her before she wakes Alice up.
"Hey, Little Elf," I whisper, coming into her room and keeping the light off. She cries in response, and I cross her room to her crib. "What's got you up?" I ask, reaching for her. She doesn't stop crying as I pull her into my arms, and quickly realize she needs to be changed.
I carry her across the room to her changing table that is set up in front of the windows. Behind the gauzy curtains, the street is blinking with magical lights. I turn on a lamp near the dresser to see what I'm doing, and my daughter lets out a sharp cry.
"I know, sweetheart. Hang on."
No matter how many diapers I change, I don't think I'll ever feel fully proficient at it. I'm always worried I'll miss something, or won't do it properly.
In my mind, Evie is so much more fragile than I know she realistically is.
Evie is still crying as I change her, and I don't want to wake up Alice, so I start singing. "Silver bells, silver bells," I whisper-sing as I change her. To my astonishment, she stops crying, her big eyes blinking up at me. Encouraged, I keep singing to her as I get her diaper off. I'm not a great singer, but this isn't Karoke, and Emmett isn't here to heckle me off the stage, so I keep going.
I get her changed up in no time, excited that I was able to keep her quietly entertained in the process.
"Come on, Little Elf," I whisper, scooping her into my arms. "You can come with me to the office so we don't wake up Mommy."
I bring Evie to the office where we have an old armchair stuffed into the corner of the room. It's a tight fit between the desk, the bookcases, and the chair, but it works for now.
I settle into the armchair with Evie and grab a throw blanket to cover both of us. She looks wide awake, but I know that it could change at the drop of a hat.
"How was your day, Little Elf?" I ask, delighted to see her bright eyes trained on my face. Rarely does she spend any amount of time staring at me, furthering my self pitying belief that she must hate me.
"Tomorrow is a big day," I continue. "You're going to Mrs. Peterson's daycare to see all your friends." I pause when Evie surprises me with a bright smile. It steals the breath right out from my lungs and I grin back at her.
"Are you excited to see your friends?" I ask, encouraged by her reaction. "You'll get to play and take a nice nap or two, and Mom and I will go to work, then Mommy will pick you up."
I grin and fold my legs so that she can rest against my knees. I take her tiny hands between my fingers, my heart fluttering when her fingers squeeze mine.
"Then we're going to go to Mimi and Bapa's house so I can help them get even more crazy decorations down from the attic." At this, Evie lets out a gurgle of a laugh, and I'm so stunned that my daughter is responding so well to me, I can't help but laugh with her.
"Isn't that silly?" I ask her. "They have so many decorations!"
She giggles again, and I feel like all the ice that has settled around my heart shatters with the sound of her laughter.
"You really are a happy girl, aren't you?" I ask redundantly. The truth is, I suspect on the grand scheme of babies, Evie is relatively easy. I've never voiced these thoughts to Alice though, for fear I'd set her off. I know Alice has had a hard time, but she just has to get used to our new normal. She'll come around, eventually.
"I have papers to grade, Little Elf. Do you want to help me?"
Evie lets out a series of gurgling noises and I nod. I get up, carrying her to her room to find a little bouncer I can set her in. I bring it back to the office and set her up, buckling her in and setting the bouncer beside the desk.
She makes a couple of protesting noises until I start bouncing her and she settles in. "Okay, Little Elf. This student said that Big Coffee was behind the Boston Tea Party," I say, rolling my eyes and glancing at her. She lets out a gurgle and I chuckle. "I agree, he wasn't paying attention at all this semester." I pick up my pen and make the notes on the paper while my foot quietly taps away at Evie's bouncer.
I stop grading every once in a while to read her a funny line or tell her how the paper is going. She is surprisingly responsive, to my surprise, grading suddenly becomes fun.
After nearly an hour, Evie is back to sleep and I'm near the last of my pile of papers to edit. Ted, our neighbor has turned off his Christmas music, so I know it's past bedtime.
I finish off the grades, pleased with my productivity for the night. When everything is put away, I gently pick up Evie from her bouncer and bring her to her crib. I set her down, kissing her head and making sure I have the monitor before I finally crawl into bed myself.
For the first time in five months, I feel hopeful. Maybe Alice and Evie and I will find our way through this hard patch. Maybe all we need is a little dose of Christmas magic.