“It’s not just me you should be congratulating,” Lou announced to the table. “Alfred was in on the New York deal, too. And a fine job he did.”

“Absolutely.” Alfred brightened up, coming back to the room and fidgeting with his tie. “It was nice of Lou to finally join me at the end, just in time to see me wrap it all up.”

Everyone around the table laughed at the joke, but it hit Lou hard.

“Yes, we have already commended Alfred,” Mr. Patterson said. “But two deals at once, Lou, how on earth did you manage it? We all know you’re a multitasker at the best of times, but what an extraordinary use of time management and, of course, your negotiating skills.”

“Yes, extraordinary,” Alfred agreed. His tone was playful, but underneath it there was venom. “Almost unbelievable. Perhaps unnatural. What was it, Lou, a magic little pill? Speed?”

There were a few nervous laughs, a cough, and then a silence. Mr. Patterson broke the tension by getting the meeting started, but the damage had already been done. Alfred had left something hanging in the air. A question replaced what had previously been pure admiration; a seed had been planted in each mind. Whether the others believed Alfred or not, each time Lou achieved anything in the future, Alfred’s comment would be momentarily, perhaps subconsciously, entertained, and that seed would grow, peep up from dirty soil, and rear its ugly head.

After all his hard work, missing out on important family events, always running out of his home to get to the office, quick pecks on Ruth’s cheek for the sake of long handshakes with strangers, he had finally had his moment. Two minutes of handshakes and applause. Followed by a seed of doubt. Had it all been worth it?

‘Tis the Season…

YOU’LL BE THERE, WON’T YOU, Lou?” Ruth asked, trying her best to hide the worry in her voice. She moved around their bedroom in her bare feet, the sound of her skin against the wooden floors like feet splashing in water. Her long brown hair was up in rollers, her body was draped in a towel, and beads of water from her shower glistened on her shoulders.

From their bed, Lou watched his wife of ten years get ready for the evening. They were going into the city center in separate cars at separate times; he had to stop in at his office party before joining the rest of his family at his father’s party. Lou hadn’t been home long from work; he had showered and dressed in the space of twenty minutes. But instead of pacing downstairs as he normally did, waiting for his wife impatiently, he had chosen to lie on the bed and watch her. He was just learning tonight that staying up here and watching was so much more entertaining than pacing downstairs in anger. Lucy had joined him on their bed only moments ago and was cuddling her loyal blanket that followed her everywhere. Fresh out of the bath, she was dressed in her pajamas and smelled so freshly of strawberries that he almost wanted to eat her.

“Of course I’ll be there.” He smiled at Ruth.

“It’s just that you should have left the house a half hour ago, and that would have put you behind as it is.” She rushed by him and disappeared into the walk-in closet. The rest of her sentence disappeared along with her, muffling into the clothes neatly folded within. He lay back on the bed and rested his arms behind his head.

“She’s talking fast,” Lucy whispered.

“She does that.” Lou smiled, reached out, and tucked a loose strand of hair behind his daughter’s ear.

Ruth reappeared dressed in her underwear.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

“Daddy!” Lucy giggled outrageously. “She’s in her panties!”

“Yes, well, she looks beautiful in her panties.” He kept his eyes on Ruth while Lucy rolled around the bed, laughing at this idea.

Ruth studied him quickly. Lou could see her swallow, her face curious, not used to the sudden attention, perhaps worrying that he was acting this way out of guilt. A big part of her was afraid to become hopeful, afraid that it was yet another buildup to a later letdown. She disappeared into the bathroom for a few moments, and when she reentered the room she hopped around, still in her underwear.

Lucy and Lou started laughing while watching her.

“What are you doing?” Lou asked.

“I’m drying my lotion.” She ran in place, smiling. Lucy hopped up and joined her, giggling and dancing, before deciding her mother was dry and joining her father back on the bed.

“Why are you still here?” Ruth asked gently. “You don’t want to be late for Mr. Patterson.”

“This is far more fun.”

“Lou,” she laughed, “while I appreciate the fact that you are not constantly moving for the first time in ten years, you really have to go. I know you say you’ll be there tonight, but—”

“I will be there tonight,” he replied, starting to feel insulted.

“Okay, but please don’t be too late,” she continued, racing around the room. “Most people going to your dad’s party are over the age of seventy, and they might have fallen asleep or have gone home by the time you get there.” She darted back into the wardrobe.

“I’ll be there,” he replied, more to himself this time. He knew he had to be. And this time, he actually wanted to be.

He heard her rooting around in the drawers. She bumped into something, swore, dropped something else, and when she reappeared in the bedroom she was dressed in a black cocktail dress.

Usually Lou would automatically tell her she was beautiful, hardly even looking at her while saying it. He felt that it was his duty, that it was what she wanted to hear, that it would get them out of the house faster, but tonight he found himself unable to speak. She was truly beautiful. It was as though all his life he had been told the sky was blue, and for the first time he had actually looked up to see it for himself. Why didn’t he look at it every day? He turned to lie on his stomach and lean his head on his hand. Lucy imitated him. They both watched the wonder that was Ruth. Ten years of this display and he’d been pacing downstairs the whole time.

“And remember,” she said, zipping up her dress at the back, “you got your father a cruise for his birthday.”

“I thought we were getting him a golf membership.”

“Lou, he hates golf.”

“He does?”

“Granddad hates golf,” Lucy confirmed with a knowing nod.

“He’s always wanted to go to Saint Lucia,” Ruth said. “Remember the story about Douglas and Ann and how they won the trip on the back of a cereal box, blah, blah, blah?”

“No.” Lou frowned.

“The cereal box competition.” She stopped on her way to the closet to stare at him in surprise.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“He tells this story all the time, Lou. About how Douglas entered the competition and they won a trip to Saint Lucia…Anything?” She looked at him for a glimmer of recognition.

Lou shook his head.

“Wow, how could you not know that story?”

Ruth disappeared inside the closet one last time and reappeared with one shoe on her foot and the other under her arm. Up, down, up, down, she made her way across the room to her dressing table to put on her jewelry.

“Oh,” she said as she put on her earrings. “When you see Mary Walsh, don’t mention Patrick.” Half of her hair was still covered in rollers, the other half loose and curled. Her face was sad. “He left her.”

“Okay,” Lou nodded, trying to remain as solemn as possible.

When Ruth ducked into the bathroom again, Lou turned to Lucy. “Patrick left Mary Walsh,” he said. “Did you know that?”

Lucy shook her head wildly.

“Did you tell him to do that?”

She shook her head, giggling.

“Who knew that would happen?”

Lucy shrugged. “Maybe Mary did.”

Lou laughed. “Maybe.”

“Oh, and please don’t ask Laura if she’s lost weight,” Ruth called out. “You always do that, and she hates it.”