Chapter 7

December 23, 2007

It was just a little after 7 on a quiet Sunday morning when I made my way down to the kitchen in the big old house. Like everything else in the place Carolyn had made it bigger and more beautiful with an expanse of windows that overlooked the large back yard and the now covered pool. The kitchen smelled delicious — fresh coffee, cinnamon rolls and something with a savory smell. Sunday was always Maria's day off so I knew Carolyn had been up early preparing breakfast as she always did on Sundays ... at least she did the last time I was around. Breakfast was not formal; it was more serve yourself brunch style as the household awakened. I set the Sunday Tribune on the big oak kitchen table and grabbed one of the thick crème colored coffee mugs from the sideboard and poured myself a cup. I was surprisingly wide awake considering the few hours of sleep I had.

Somewhere between our first and second round of love making I had taken the engagement ring from the chain around Jessica's neck and placed it on her finger. She had hugged me and cried. Eventually she slept and I moved across the hall to "my" room.

I had awakened just after six and lay there thinking about all that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. I smiled. I had been welcomed home to Tom and Carolyn's like I had never left and Jessica still did love me ... or at least it seems the person I had become. She was different too. Five and a half years had changed her from a spoiled child to an exciting and mature woman. Even our love-making was better ... slower, less frantic ... like people who now have all the time in the world.

Carolyn, ever gracious, had resolved our dilemma with her customary grace and level headedness. She had made me feel special and preserved our close friendship. In fact sometime during the party we found ourselves alone for a few moments and she grabbed me around the waist and said,

"Matt, you know I'll expect lots of grandbabies."

I broke from her embrace and stood at attention and saluted her giving her a quick, "Yes Ma'am. I think I'm up for that!"

We both laughed, having consumed a fair bet of champagne. She kissed me lightly and went on her way.

In fact the party was hugely successful with over a hundred people braving the storm. Of course Chicagoans are no wimps where it comes to a little snow. Jessica hardly left my side the entire evening. She introduced me as "my dear friend Matt." I had no idea who most of these people were. They certainly represented the moneyed class considering the fur coats that came through the door and the jewelry on most of the women and their couture dresses, or the skimpy cloth that passed for a dress on a number of trophy wives.

"Stop drooling, my Love ... they're not real..."

Jessica, dressed in a very dark green silk cocktail dress that showed off lots of her back and a good deal of cleavage, would whisper in my ear as a said trophy wife would give me the once over during introductions and maybe hold my hand too long, or demand a hug — for the affectionate ones.

I only had to glare at a couple of Jessica's potential suitors. They seemed quick on the uptake that I had no sense of humor with any attempts at hitting on my wife to be. It was probably obvious to all concerned that we were an item, even though nothing formal had been announced. Some of the guests seemed puzzled because they might have attended the Christmas party six years ago when we had announced our engagement.

Jessica's younger sister Jordan had arrived earlier with husband and two-year old in tow. She looked fabulous. She had auburn hair and was built much like Jessica. She filled out her blue cocktail dress like few others in the room.

Their two year old girl, hung on to Jessica as they headed up stairs for a story and bed. They laughed all the way.

Yes, I lay there content and extremely happy. Last night I had met the Ghost of Christmas Future and that future was filled with love and promise.

I finally rolled out of bed as the smell of cinnamon rolls started to fill the house. After I had showered I discovered some of my clothes still in the closet. At first I had laughed when Jessica had told me the house rule that I could make love to her in her bed but in the morning I needed to me in the guest room across the hall. I knew the ruse fooled no one, but that was the way of things in the Hawthorne household. I couldn't believe my clothes were still there after five years. I slipped on jeans, and a heavy cable knit sweater and some beat up Nike's and headed downstairs through the sleeping house to the kitchen.