Enough to Miss Christmas

"I can't get pregnant, if that's your concern. If you're worried about my carrying some disease, don't." I said it more tersely than I'd intended.

He kissed me, tenderly, but knew the mood was slipping away, and I was less than enthusiastic.

"I won't use them. I'm sorry. I just didn't know. We haven't talked about this. Is anything else wrong?"

I tried to smile, and kissed him, trying harder. "Nothing," I lied. "I over reacted. I only used those things once and it wasn't a good memory." I tried to make the warmth of his embrace chase away the chillness I felt.

He held me at arm's length. "Let's be honest. Otherwise, this thing is going nowhere. I don't want that to happen. It's not just the condom, is it?"

I tried to protest but I couldn't lie. "It's not the way I wanted it to be. It seems . . . so perfunctory. Like were supposed to hop in bed, do it, and then you'll say, 'that was really, really good. Was it really, really good for you?' and I'll say, 'Oh, yes! It was really, really good! Was it really, really good for you too?' I'm not up to that, Paul. I want to make love with you. I really do. I'm sorry. I guess I'm nervous and exhausted. I've hardly been with a man since Doug died; like a century ago. I've wanted this to happen practically since the day I met you, but now we're here it doesn't seem right. We're neither of us ourselves. Perhaps the three weeks apart have got in the way or the airline and weather screw ups. I just don't know but I want it right and it isn't. I'm sorry."

He neither argued nor seemed surprised. He turned, flipped off the light, and in the shock of blackness stepped up to me, put one arm on my back, the other behind my knees, lifted me up and carried me to the large four poster bed where he dropped me. He pulled the covers up and crawled in next to me.

"Now go to sleep. It's been a long day and I don't like to see the woman I love upset." He kissed me, and turned the other way.

The woman I love. He had never said that.

"I love you too," I whispered, so softly I'm not sure he heard. I felt a sense of serenity overwhelm me and I drifted off to the most contented sleep I'd had in years.

I awoke to a silver glow from the rising moon, and a bedside clock that read four-forty. The foul weather of icy rain of earlier turned to snow in its dying hour. Now framed through the colonial farm house window, the meadow was a blanket of white. The Christmas card scene sparkled with a million crystals that painted the flocked trees surrounding the field like a fairy forest. Somehow, in this beautiful scene, I knew this man breathing softly beside me, was destined to be a part of the rest of my life. Boldly, I reached over and woke him. He turned, and our bodies met for the first time. It was everything I dreamed it would be.