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Winter in Chicago always transformed the city into a concrete jungle buried beneath layers of frost, frigidity, and festivity. Freezing winds harsh even the shortest of walks and on the rare December days when snow accumulated too much too fast, Chicago was afforded a day of reprieve from its usual bustle. The night before, Tom Skilling had waxed poetic about the city’s first big snowfall, and the next morning saw his prediction come true. The snow was glistening and blindingly white, a temporary beauty that would be polluted by car exhaust and rock salt.
Marissa had invited Jenny and Jacob to spend that Friday night with them so the boys could keep each other occupied whilst being snowed in. When they arrived, Jenny let themselves in courtesy of the spare key given to her—logistically, it was easier for pick-ups and drop-offs, and someone else should have access in case of emergencies. At least, that was the justification Jenny presented, citing that she had Esther and Marissa had no one. Not meanly, just truthfully.
Loud whispers floated to Marissa’s ears as she woke slowly, keen to fall back into the depths of sleep. When she recognized the excited, scheming voices of Jacob and Milo, Marissa fought the smile that tried to curl and kept her eyes closed, pulling the blanket up to further hide her face.
“Mommy, wake up!” Milo shrieked and the bed shook with the weights of Milo and Jacob jumping up and down in uneven intervals. “Wake! Up! Wake! Up!” Jacob joined in with Milo’s chanting—“AuntMarAuntMarAuntMarAuntMar!”—stringing the words together so fast that Marissa wasn’t sure when Jacob was catching a breath.
Marissa released a dramatic groan and caught Jenny’s low laughter as it traveled from the doorway. “Okay, okay, I’m up!” With a swift swipe of her arm, the boys were pulled down into the disarray of blankets and pillows for good morning kisses, releasing a peal of squeals.
“Alright, you two go play please while she gets ready,” Jenny said and Jacob quickly bounced off the bed and out of the room. Milo paused, planted a wet smooch on his mother’s cheek, then followed. From the family room TV, the chatter of Australian canine toddlers rose in volume, to a level that could almost be considered too loud, but not quite (“We can’t hear them talking when we eat our cereal”).
Crossing the room, Jenny sat at the end of the bed and offered a fresh mug of coffee to Marissa, who accepted it with a tired smile. Marissa’s smile strengthened when the drink hit her tongue; the milk and sugar ratio was perfect. “So, did you put them up to that?” Marissa asked, sitting up and smoothing her hair away from her face.
“I asked them to wake you, but the…methodology was their own,” Jenny chuckled and sipped from her tea. “I tried to let you sleep as long as I could, but Milo really wanted you up with us.”
“Milo gets up at the crack of dawn; you could’ve woken me up to deal with him,” Marissa said.
Jenny shrugged, eyes soft. “There was nothing to deal with.”
“Then I’ll…go strip the sheets from your bed.”
“Sheets are in the washer.”
Marissa scoffed, playful and exaggerated. “Did you leave anything for me to do?”
“Yes,” Jenny nodded. She reached out to grab the now empty coffee mug from Marissa’s hands before standing. “You can cook us breakfast. My eggs always break.”
***
By mid-afternoon, Milo and Jacob were bundled up in layers so thick that Marissa thought they looked like little penguins waddling around the backyard—she took several pictures. The boys had twenty precious minutes of playtime in the snow before Jenny would call them back in to warm up, and they began building their snowman with militant focus. Marissa and Jenny stood inside at the sliding door, keeping watch, and Jenny observed Marissa’s smile fade as she pulled her cardigan tighter around her.
“What’s on your mind?” Jenny asked, eyebrows furrowing the slightest bit.
Marissa glanced towards Jenny and took a deep breath that finished as a sigh. “Milo’s been doing well after the whole…you know. And his play therapist says he hasn’t asked any questions about it; he still thinks of it as some weird fun vacation.”
Jenny hummed, nodding. “But you have concerns?”
“I just—part of me knows that when he’s older, he’s gonna start asking those questions and I don’t know what the hell to say, so another part of me hopes he never does, but that’s—that would be weird, right?” Marissa’s chin quivered and she sniffed, bringing a knuckle up to her nose. “I mean, Milo’s going to Google his name, other people are going to Google his name, and his sweet little face is just plastered all over the internet and people are making fucking podcasts, and I dragged you—I dragged you and your son into my mess and I’m so—” Her voice caught, hot tears overflowed, and Marissa lowered her head into her hand, tugging at her roots.
“Mar, no,” Jenny said in a low voice. Placing her hands on Marissa’s arms, Jenny guided Marissa back a few steps so Jenny was the only one of them visible from the sliding door, turning her head for a second to ensure the boys were still playing. Jenny’s hands on Marissa tightened a fraction at the whimper Marissa released. “You didn’t drag me or Jacob into anything. We love you, we love Milo, and when the moment is right—and we’ll know—we will tell him the truth as…gracefully as we can. And it’ll be fucking hard, I know that, and you know it’s the right thing to do because you’re a good—a fantastic mother. Who would do, and did, whatever it took to protect her child.”
Marissa nodded and drew in a shaky breath, tilting her head up and blinking rapidly. She swiped at her face messily and willed the redness in her face and chest to go down, and Marissa focused on the warmth of Jenny’s hands through her cardigan, breathing deeply. “I don’t know how you don’t resent me,” Marissa said after a long pause.
Jenny blinked and cocked her head, rubbing soothing strokes up and down Marissa’s arms. “I could never do that. Be annoyed or frustrated with you, sure, because we’re human, but you’re my best friend and I could never resent you.”
Eyes wide, Marissa stared at Jenny with something close to reverence then pulled the woman closer into a tight hug, and Jenny’s arms were automatic in wrapping around Marissa’s middle. After a moment, Marissa extracted herself with a whispered ‘thank you’ and grateful smile. She took a step back and cleared her throat, rubbing her hands together as she walked towards the kitchen. “I’m gonna make hot chocolate for the boys. Do you want hot chocolate? I’ll make you a cup.”
“Yes, thank you,” Jenny agreed, voice soft. She checked the timer she set on her phone (13 minutes and 36 seconds had elapsed) and looked out the sliding door to check on Milo and Jacob’s progress; it was a friendly looking snowman with a cowboy hat and it leaned a little too far to the left. Jacob had one stick in his hand and was sifting through the snow with determination to find another.
Noticing Jenny’s attention, Milo walked up to the sliding door and pressed his face close, huffing and clouding a little area. He scrawled the word ‘hi’ into the fogged glass. The ‘h’ was backwards and Jenny giggled as she fluttered her fingers in a wave. Milo’s answering smile was ecstatic.
***
Faces pink, hair combed and towel dried, Milo and Jacob were huddled together in Milo’s bed, snoring softly. Milo laid on his side, Mr. Chips tucked under his arm. Only the top of Jacob’s head was visible from where he had burrowed into a tight little ball under the blankets. Marissa flicked Milo’s nightlight on before leaving the boys to sleep, keeping the door ajar.
When she re-entered the living room, Jenny was lounging on the couch and already holding a glass of merlot out for Marissa whilst sipping her own, wine bottle on the coffee table. The room was bathed in butter yellow light from the floor lamps and Barry Manilow crooned feebly from the Audio-Technica. A sherpa blanket was thrown across both of the women’s laps and they each scooted closer to accommodate the other, knees brushing.
As the hours drifted, so did they from topic to topic; by eleven pm, Marissa’s head swam with a pleasant dizziness and everything she said had an underlying giggle to it. Jenny seemed to be faring better—though Marissa could tell by the way Jenny blinked slower, heavier, that she was also feeling the effects of the alcohol.
“It’s not gonna end well, I’m calling it now,” Marissa relayed, the corner of her mouth upturned. She took a long sip from her glass, finishing the wine that remained. “When this guy passes on and his kids find out how he divided his assets, I’m gonna have four grown adults bitching at me about how I ‘let him’ do that.”
Jenny rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “I can understand being a little miffed about it—well, maybe I can’t—but the optics of complaining about your dad donating millions of dollars to charity aren’t great either.”
Marissa snorted and twirled the stem of her glass between her fingers. “Can you imagine the headline? ‘Four Middle-Aged Siblings with Millions in Stock Sue St. Jude’s.’ It’d make my press conference look like child’s play.”
Laughing lightly, Jenny grabbed the wine bottle from the table and poured the rest of the contents into Marissa’s empty glass; Marissa tipped it back readily. As Marissa continued with her animated ranting, she adjusted her position and Jenny’s eyes caught the white of Marissa’s bra strap peeking out from the shoulder of her sleeve. With two fingers, Jenny leaned in and corrected the strap’s placement back under the sleeve.
When Jenny pulled back, Marissa was paused mid-sip with the rim of her wine glass resting against her bottom lip. She angled the glass, swallowed the merlot hard, and coughed a bit at the wine’s dryness sitting at the back of her throat. Jenny watched, unblinking.
“So,” Marissa started and she placed her nearly empty glass down on the coffee table; next to the coaster, not on it. “Do you think the roads will be cleared by the morning?”
Jenny glanced at the wine glass sitting next to the coaster. Didn’t fix it. “Probably. I’m sure losing one day of profits is making everyone stir crazy. I’m just glad we won’t have to fight traffic taking the boys to school tomorrow.”
“What should we do with them tomorrow?” Marissa asked.
“We could…” Jenny clicked her tongue quietly as she thought. “Oh, there’s the ZooLights thing at Lincoln Park, that’s really nice. That could keep us busy all day if we wanted to be.”
Marissa was already scrolling on her phone, perusing the website. She hummed in agreement and nodded with enthusiasm. “Yeah, they have churros, I’m in.”
The smile that sprawled across Jenny’s face was amused and fond. “I think you would fight a child for the last churro.”
Marissa scoffed and brought a hand up to her chest. “I wouldn’t fight someone’s kid.”
“Mhm.”
“I’d absolutely fight someone’s mother, though. And win.”
Jenny’s laugh was bright and warmth swirled in the pit of Marissa’s stomach. She rolled her shoulders and refocused her attention on Jenny, who was creating tomorrow’s itinerary using the Notes app on her phone. Marissa crossed her arms, hiding her smile behind her hand.
***
Lincoln Park Zoo was crowded Sunday afternoon, and both Marissa and Jenny had a firm grip on their sons’ hands as they trekked from exhibit to exhibit. Their route was marked in red on the PDF map Jenny had downloaded and shared with Marissa, and Marissa’s lips twitched—once the boys were set in what they wanted to see, the route would become a mere suggestion.
Milo and Jacob were excitedly mimicking the southern black howler monkey when the first barrage of texts pinged from Jenny’s phone. Once she checked the messages, the confusion on Jenny’s face twisted. Her thumbs flew across the keyboard with sharp taps and she shoved her phone into her coat pocket when finished. Jenny’s only response to Marissa’s questioning gaze was a tight smile.
The first phone call came through when their little group entered the small mammal house, and Jenny urged Marissa and their sons to go ahead whilst she took the call from outside. Holding their hands, Marissa tried to slow the boys’ pace at each habitat, and she glanced towards the threshold of the exhibit with every stop. When they came upon a baby two-toed sloth clinging to the belly of its mother, Milo pointed, said to Marissa, “That’s us, Mommy” and her heart melted.
Jenny returned to Marissa and the boys while they were looking at the rodents, her arms crossed and face blank. Jacob tucked his free hand into his mom’s coat pocket, holding the fabric. He then looked up at Jenny with large eyes. “Did you know naked mole rats eat their own poop?”
Jenny’s face softened and she uncrossed her arms to grab hold of the hand Jacob had in her pocket. “I didn’t. Did you know that rabbits do that too?”
Jacob scrunched his nose and said “Ew” at the same time Milo grinned at Marissa and said, “I want a bunny.”
“When you’re older,” Marissa said, eyes not leaving Jenny.
By the time the sun had set and the expanse of LED lights twinkled around them, Jenny had stepped away for three more phone calls; each time, she came back with stiff shoulders, grinding her teeth. The fourth call came through when they sequestered a round table to snack on their churros, and Jenny left the table with a hissed “Jesus Christ.”
Milo turned towards Jacob with his bottom lip jutted out. “Why isn’t Aunt Jenny having fun?”
“It’s my dad,” Jacob said. He licked a few sugar crystals from his churro before continuing. “Talking to him puts her in a bad mood.”
“Why?” Milo asked.
“I was going to see him for Thanksgiving but then he changed his mind,” Jacob answered, not looking up.
A deep frown marred Marissa’s face and she placed a hand on Jacob’s back to rub soothing circles. When Jenny shared her plans to divorce Richie, Marissa assumed it was due to inattentiveness to his marriage, not his fatherhood. It occurred to Marissa that Peter and Richie were two extremes on opposite ends of the spectrum. As Jacob aged, Richie grew away from him and as Milo aged, Peter grew with him—not to support him, to stifle him.
Marissa’s stomach coiled and she pushed it down, leaning forward with a half smile. “Do you wanna know what I like to do with my churros?”
Milo nodded with vigor. Jacob lifted his chin, eyebrows crinkled, and Marissa thought he looked just like Jenny at that moment. Breaking off a piece of churro, Marissa popped the lid of her cocoa, dipped the end of the treat into her cup, then chucked the churro into her mouth. She smirked at the twin expressions of wide-eyed wonder and wiped her hands with a flourish.
“Use my cup,” Marissa said and placed her hot chocolate within the boys’ reach. Milo dipped the entirety of his churro before pulling it out while Jacob double dunked each piece he broke off.
Strolling carolers adorned in plaid and bonnets filled the square with the merry tune of ‘Jingle Bells.’ Milo and Jacob joined in, offkey in that boyish way that still sounded good, singing around the churros in their mouths. Marissa hummed along and Jenny approached the table in the midst of their holiday cheer.
She adjusted her hat as she slid back into her seat. “I’m sorry I keep abandoning you,” Jenny whispered to Marissa, who waved the apology off.
“I was just sharing trade secrets with them,” Marissa chuckled and jerked her head towards Jacob and Milo. They were now engaged in a churro sword fight, grunting and voicing the clink of two swords hitting each other.
Jenny watched them with an amused raise of her eyebrow, and Marissa watched Jenny from her peripherals. Jenny’s shoulders had sloped into a droop and her legs were crossed, foot shaking. The skin around her eyes was pulled taut. Her abandoned churro remained untouched.
“They had a lot of fun today. This whole weekend,” Marissa said, voice low and sweet.
Jenny’s foot slowed, then stilled. She studied Marissa for a moment. “Did you?”
Marissa paused before nodding.
The corners of Jenny’s mouth quirked up. “Good.” Her eyes flicked across Marissa’s face, smile dimming but not disappearing. When she looked away, her foot resumed shaking.
Marissa swallowed a sigh. Drummed her fingers against her knee. Thinking.
***
The gentle swish of fabric being folded greeted Marissa as she stepped into the guest room, and she knocked a knuckle against the door to announce herself. Hands still moving, Jenny looked up, smiled briefly, and tilted her head to beckon Marissa closer. Every step Marissa took grew more stilted than the last. She rubbed the palm of her hand with the thumb of her other. Jenny’s movements slowed as Marissa ventured closer to the end of the bed where she was packing her and Jacob’s overnight bags.
“Jacob is helping Milo put away all the toys. He’s a sweet kid,” Marissa said. She reached out to grab something to fold. Her hand hovered over one of Jenny’s sweaters—then diverted to Jacob’s SpongeBob pajamas.
Jenny’s eyes shined with pride. She paused folding to tuck her hair behind her ears and Marissa’s eyes followed the movement. “Thank you for taking care of him today while I was…distracted.”
“Oh, yeah, of course,” Marissa nodded, flashing a close lipped smile. They continued folding in silence; a few times, Marissa’s gaze drifted over to Jenny and Jenny lifted her head in time for their eyes to meet with a tired smile on her face. When the clothing was folded and stuffed neatly into the duffle bag, Marissa placed herself at the end of the bed, more of a lean than a sit. “About today, actually.”
“Yeah?” Jenny asked, voice soft, loosely crossing her arms.
Eyes downcast, Marissa picked at stray lint along the thigh of her pants. Her mouth opened and closed once, twice, and Jenny moved to lean against the edge of the bed beside Marissa. Taking a deep breath, Marissa looked up and folded her hands tightly in front of her.
“Just, um,” Marissa began. “If there’s ever anything bothering you—or anything, really, it doesn’t have to only be when you’re bothered—but if you ever wanna talk about something that’s, you know, not about the kids then you can call me. Or text, whatever is easier. I just wanted to…put that out there, I guess. I mean, you’ve been such a good friend—a good person to me, and I can…I would like to return the favor.”
Jenny’s eyebrows knitted together. She gave a single, slow nod as she inspected Marissa’s folded hands, her twiddling thumbs, the way Marissa was looking at Jenny from the corner of her eyes. Jenny cocked her head, and her voice was quiet when she spoke. “Okay. I can call you once Jacob is in bed.”
Marissa blinked. The grip her hands had on each other loosened. Then she smiled—slow, curling, emphasizing her cheekbones. “Okay.”
“Mom,” Milo called, marching into the room with Jacob right behind him. Fisted in Milo’s hand was a Superman action figure and he held it up so Jenny and Marissa could see it clearly. “Superman tastes spicy.”
“Oh, uh…” Marissa tapped her foot, thinking. “Spicy like it burns your mouth or spicy like…there’s a lot going on?”
“Hmm…spicy like there's a lot going on.”
“I think it tastes like plastic,” Jacob interjected, and Jenny held a fist to her mouth to hide a smile that was also a grimace.
Grinning, Milo turned to address Jacob. “So Superman should go with the mustard group, not the hot pepper group.” He then ran out of the room.
“What are you guys doing?” Jenny asked Jacob.
“Organizing the toys by taste.” Jacob shrugged, holding his palms out. “I think it should be by color. But what do I know?” Sighing, as if he’s lived the most exhausted life, Jacob left the room to finish cleaning up.
Marissa pinched the bridge of her nose, snorting. “That’s definitely your son.”
Smiling, with a small show of teeth, Jenny looked at Marissa with something she couldn’t decipher. “And Milo is definitely yours.”
***
It had taken three readings of Noodles on a Bicycle and the promise of a ramen lunch before sleep claimed Milo. Marissa checked the time (8:12) and used the lamplight to prepare two sets of clothes for Milo to choose from in the morning. Before leaving the room, Marissa stood at the doorway and stared at her son, a deep sigh rumbling from her chest. She left the door open a little wider than she usually does.
While Marissa prepped Milo’s school lunch for tomorrow—cooked noodles with raw broccoli and the noodles have to be really thick and it has to be in the blue lunchbox, Mom, because the green one makes everything taste like soap—her phone sat face up on the kitchen island. She placed Milo’s lunch in the fridge and double checked that her phone’s volume was up as she poured herself a glass of water, not wine.
Marissa watched the TV on mute with the subtitles on, some show about a media mogul whose kids are fighting to take over the company. Just as she checked the time again (8:49), Jenny’s name flashed across the phone screen. Marissa’s thumb hovered over the accept prompt; she let the phone ring once, twice, before she answered. “Hello?”
“Hey.” Jenny’s voice was soft, almost hushed.
“Hey. How was, uh, how was bedtime?” No, Marissa. “Or you, actually, how are–how are you?” Marissa asked.
A huff of breath crackled on the other end, like someone releasing a laugh through their nose. “Aren’t we past small talk?”
“Well,” Marissa shrugged. “I genuinely want to know, so…”
Jenny hummed. The silence stretched. Just when Marissa thought she’d said the wrong thing, Jenny’s voice came through quietly and sincerely.
“I’m fine. For the most part. Frustrated and indignant and—” Jenny’s sigh was heavy. “Sometimes ashamed.”
Marissa furrowed her eyebrows. “Ashamed?”
“Yeah, I guess…ashamed that I’m putting Jacob through this back and forth with Richie when I know Richie’s such a lazy piece of shit. Like I’m not protecting Jacob, like I’m not…doing my job as a mom.”
“You are. Every mother wants their child to have their father in their life.”
“You didn’t.” And the way Jenny said it wasn’t snarky, wasn’t unkind. To Marissa, it sounded almost a little awestruck. “You were…brave.”
Marissa’s stomach tightened and she took a long sip of water. “Well, I don’t exactly recommend, you know, my approach, but, um.” She adjusted herself, and she lowered her voice with her next words. “You can be brave, too, Jenny.”
The other end of the line was quiet save for faint rustling. Then: “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Marissa said. She traced figure eights in the fabric of the couch.
Jenny spoke again, her voice stronger, and she launched into logistics on the boys being picked up from school tomorrow. The smile on Marissa’s face was fond. She and Marissa floated from subject to subject, their laughs soft and their quips quick. It was when the women were discussing Sarah Larsen’s stupid fucking Christmas canned food drive that Marissa yawned loudly; she briefly pulled the phone away from her ear to check the time (11:06) and suggested they call it a night. Their goodbyes were sweet, drawn out, and they ended the phone call later than they meant to (11:21).
Afterwards, Jenny laid awake on her side with her phone in her hand. The combination of the late hour and the bright phone screen conjured a small thump in her temple, and she blinked her eyes several times to force herself through it. With one hand, Jenny typed out and deleted several messages to Marissa, nothing feeling right. As the drowsiness of sleep settled over her, Jenny sighed and slowly typed out one more message. She didn’t hit send.
***
The last day of school before Christmas break spurred Milo and Jacob into a talkative frenzy, and they exchanged wishlists whilst Jenny drove them back to her house that afternoon. She peeked at the boys through the rearview mirror with a smile; in her head, she tallied what gifts they talked about and what she knew she and Marissa had already gotten them. When Jenny pulled into her driveway, the sky was transitioning from day to dusk, and the kids paused to admire the colors before being ushered out of the cold.
Boots were kicked off, coats were hung up, and Jenny held the straps of both of their backpacks as Milo and Jacob bumped into each other in their efforts to claim the remote. A smirk curled on Jenny’s face as she listened to the boys each argue their case on why their show was better. Milo wanted Pete the Cat, Jacob wanted Paw Patrol—in the end, they compromised by watching Lilo & Stitch. The crunch of chips filled the room as they sat on the floor in front of the TV.
Jenny used her kitchen island to sort through the boys’ bags and she scanned the various crinkled papers that were jammed inside, looking for anything that was addressed to her or Marissa. She opened their main folders to find two similar drawings tucked in the front. When she pulled them out and held them side by side, Jenny’s eyebrows raised.
Neatly printed at the top of the papers was Ms. Benitez’s handwriting: “My Family for the Holidays.” Below that, Milo and Jacob’s papers were nearly identical: two women, one with yellow hair and another with orange, and two boys in between them, one with yellow hair and another with brown. There was a man and woman squished into the background of Milo’s that Jenny assumed to be Brian and Lia, and it looked like Jacob had begun drawing the head of a dark haired man before scribbling it out.
“Mommy?” Jacob called from his seat, head turned.
“Yeah?” Jenny answered, still analyzing the pictures.
“What house is Santa supposed to go to on Christmas Eve?”
Jenny looked up. Milo had also turned his head and both boys stared at her expectantly. She set the drawings to the side and began repacking their bags. “When Aunt Mar gets here, I’ll talk to her and then we’ll let you know.”
“And Santa?” Milo asked.
“Yes, we’ll let Santa know, too.”
Satisfied, Milo and Jacob turned back to their cartoon. Jenny tapped a finger on the granite counter. Thinking.
It was a little after six when the click of the key tumblers alerted everyone to Marissa’s arrival. Jacob and Milo had been tasked with setting the table and they stopped to rush Marissa with hugs. Marissa’s laugh was infectious and she held the boys tightly, dragging them back to the dining table to finish their duties as assigned. Marissa placed her purse on the island and flashed Jenny an open mouthed grin.
“Hey, how was your day?” Marissa asked as she unraveled her scarf.
Jenny flicked the oven off and turned, adorning a small smile. “Good. I made pizza. And there’s butter noodles on the side for Milo.”
“Thank you, he’s going through a noodle phase right now.” Marissa shrugged her coat off and went to place it on a hook, throwing a direction over her shoulder. “Boys, go wash your hands for dinner, please.”
Milo and Jacob raced towards the half bathroom, and both women pretended not to hear Jacob’s instruction of “You have to use soap this time, Milo” as they passed.
“What are your plans for Christmas?” Jenny asked as she gingerly took the pizza out of the oven, placing it on the counter to cool.
Marissa took a seat on one of the kitchen island stools, tying her hair back. “It’ll just be me and Milo in the morning, and Brian and Lia will be over later for dinner and presents.”
Jenny hummed in acknowledgement. Using the pads of her fingers, she slid both of the drawings into Marissa’s view, her eyes watching Marissa’s face. “Milo and Jacob want to know what house to tell Santa to go to.”
As she looked over the assignments, Marissa’s lips parted and the skin between her eyebrows wrinkled. Her eyes darted between Jenny and the papers in front of her, and warmth coursed through her body. Marissa cleared her throat and busied her hands by toying with a loose strand from her sweater. “Well, I mean, you and Jacob are more than welcome to sleep at ours and that would–it’d be nice for the kids. And you can–you should stay for dinner. Too.”
Jenny’s head was tilted and her eyes searched Marissa’s face. Then she smiled; and it was a beautiful, crinkley eyed smile. “We can do that. I just wanted to make sure that was okay with you.”
“It is,” Marissa said, voice almost lowered to a whisper.
Milo and Jacob were boisterous during dinner, and they competed to see who could suck in the longest butter noodle in one go until Jenny gave them a raised eyebrow. Under the table, Marissa typed out a message to the Irvine Family group chat.
Marissa: Is it okay if I invite Jenny and Jacob to spend Christmas with us?
Lia’s reply chirped not even two minutes later: We thought they already were LOL we have presents for them.
Brian sent a GIF of Steve Irwin giving two thumbs up.
Marissa chuckled and looked up from her phone. As Marissa thought through transporting Jacob’s Christmas gifts to her house, she scanned the table then reached out to grab the pepper shaker. When Jenny pushed the pepper into Marissa’s hands, their fingers brushed.
Their hands stilled. Their eyes met. And when Jenny smiled at her—tender, pleased, curious—Marissa felt suspended in the air. The boys’ chatter pulled her back down. But that long singular moment belonged to Marissa; belonged to Jenny. As would the next ones.