Here it is: the grand finale. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
Red Scarf.
The next few days passed without real incident. Harry slowly got his strength back and by Christmas Eve he was loping all over the house, assisting with small tasks, herding the children, calling the office, and stealing the occasional Christmas cookie. Karen, up to her elbows in flour, caught him on almond biscotti number three and chased him out of the kitchen with a rolling pin. He made a pretty speedy escape on his crutches with a cookie in his mouth, and the kids thought it was hilarious.
Karen sighed. It was great having everybody home for Christmas, but the children were making her a little barmy and Harry was making a grade-A pest of himself. Fortunately, Christmas Day was tomorrow, and it would all be over. She watched as Daisy put the last touches on an angel cookie and smiled. At least Christmas morning would go well. The Stretter household had a rule when it came time to open presents on Christmas: there was to be no excitement until 8:30 in the morning, because mummy and daddy needed to be alert enough to take pictures. Karen had made this rule three years ago, after she and Harry had stayed up 'til three trying to assemble Daisy's bike and spent all their motor skills on it. The documentation of Daisy actually riding the bike the next day had only been good for a laugh.
The next day at 8:45, it was all over. Every present under the tree had been opened. Harry and Karen were slumped on the couch in their night things, surrounded by a sea of wrapping paper. The kids were off playing with their toys in the dining room. Daisy was developing into a craft nut like her mum, so she had been particularly excited by a beginner's cross-stitch kit, and Bernie had received a skateboard, something he'd been asking for all year. He was riding it very slowly in the kitchen.
Harry sipped his tea and observed the kids beyond his left socked foot, which was resting on the coffee table next to the camera. His crutches were close at hand, leaning against the couch arm. Karen was slurping some coffee and casting surreptitious glances at Harry every few seconds. Harry was catching every look but pretending not to notice.
He knew from that look that Karen saw his little teaser in his coat pocket – after all, she was alone with his coat for a quite a while about a week ago, with nothing else to do. Finally tired of Karen's looks, he hailed Bernie.
"Bernie, I think you missed a present," he said casually.
Bernie looked up in confusion as he drifted by on his new skateboard. "I don't think so Dad, they were all under the tree."
"No, there's definitely one missing," Harry insisted. "Check your closet, would you?"
Bernie had already checked there last week, but decided to humor his father. He shrugged and walked away, wisely forgoing the skateboard. Karen heard him traipse down the hall. The closet door opened, and there was a gasp and some crinkling paper.
"Hey Dad, this isn't for me, it's for Mum! And it's from you!"
Karen looked startled. Harry felt extremely pleased with himself.
Bernie went into the living room and handed Karen a very fancy present. She looked at her husband in disbelief, who was sporting a cat-that-ate-the-canary smile, and read the simple card.
Dear Karen,
Merry Christmas.
Love,
Harry.
The crinkling paper caught Daisy's attention, and she came into the living room to stand beside her brother and watch. Karen eagerly opened the paper … and was dismayed. It was a plush woolen scarf, a deep shade of red with little sparkles running through it, all balled up. She liked scarves very much, and this one in particular, but after that jewelry store teaser she was not terribly pleased. She made a valiant effort not to show it in front of the children.
"Oh, a scarf! How lovely!"
"Karen, there's more," Harry said, catching the disappointment on her face. "Unwrap it."
There was no more paper to unwrap. A soft "oh!" escaped Karen as she realized he meant the scarf. So she opened it up and unfolded it. Sitting innocently in the center of the scarf ball was a small, blue box, nearly identical to the one she found in his coat pocket. And inside the box was a pair of stunning diamond earrings.
She gasped. These had to have been ridiculously expensive.
"Harry, my God. This …"
"Is what you wanted?" he supplied.
She started laughing.
"Put them on."
"Okay, okay." Karen complied immediately and modeled them. "Well, what do you think?"
The diamonds caught all the light in the room and lit up her skin and hair just so. "You look amazing," Harry said quietly.
"They're really pretty, Mum," Daisy said.
Bernie whistled. "Nice job, Dad!"
The older one stood around long enough to be polite and then went back to his skateboard, but the precocious, inquisitive little one took the opportunity to wander over to Harry's side of the couch, where she bounced on her toes. It was a definite signal that Daisy was itching to do something, and it was probably something mischievous. Harry glanced at Karen and then eyed Daisy with an overdone look of suspicion.
"Uh oh," he said. "What do you want, then?"
Daisy chewed on her lip a bit. "I want to poke it. May I, Dad? Please?"
"Daisy Ann!" Karen squawked. "No you may not!"
Harry was totally confused. "I don't get it. Poke what?"
"Your leg," Karen said, and she sounded thoroughly disgusted, as though she'd had it out with Daisy over this issue at some previous point in time.
"But Mum, if I'm going to be a doctor, I can't be squeamish!" Daisy explained. "I have to poke it!"
Harry almost started laughing, but held it in. Being a doctor was one thing – randomly poking people was quite another.
"Daisy, my dear," he said, with as much dignity as he could muster, "Poking me is not going to help you become a doctor."
"Yes, it will. Please?"
"No."
"Pleeeeease?" She was inching dangerously close to his leg.
"No."
"Pretty please with sugar on top?" She was giggling now, and reached for him.
"No!" Harry said. He scooped her up well away from his injured limb and held her fast like a baby.
Daisy had always enjoyed this kind of rough-and-tumble play. She laughed and started fidgeting and trying to escape. "PLEASE, Daddy!"
"No, sorry love, not happening," he said. Daisy's wiggling and giggling had made her shirt ride up, exposing her tummy. Harry leaned down and blew on it. She shrieked with laughter.
"See, what they don't tell you about being a doctor is sometimes patients get rebellious and fight back."
Karen was laughing at this by now, in chorus with her daughter, who was breathless from her father's onslaught.
"Dad, please let me go! I'll be good! I won't poke you, I promise!"
"You do?"
"Yes!"
"On your honor?"
"Ye-ess!" she shouted gleefully at the ceiling.
Harry pretended to evaluate this statement for second. "All right then, I know you keep your promises. Off with you." He set her on the floor and tapped her on the rear to get her moving. She scooted off to go play in the dining room. They all heard a sudden "Who-ho-ho!" from behind the kitchen island, winced at the crash, and nodded at Bernie's predictable "I'm okay, I'm okay."
"Oh yes, that skateboard was a brilliant idea," Karen muttered, rubbing her forehead.
"Well, just as long as he rides on the carpet, we have nothing to worry about."
Seeing that the kids were sufficiently occupied elsewhere, Harry realized that the moment had come. They could have that discussion he'd been planning. He motioned for Karen to shift over so she was close by, which she did.
"You know, since all the madness is over, I erm … I think we should talk."
Karen smiled. "We already have."
"Really." Harry did not sound convinced.
"Yes."
"We talked about … Mia?"
"Mm-hmm," Karen said.
Bewildered, Harry put an arm around her. "I told you nothing happened."
"Yep."
"I apologized."
"Profusely."
"And you forgave me."
"Yes, darling."
Harry scratched his head. "Right. Where was I during this conversation? I don't remember having it."
Karen snickered. "You were in hospital. The doctors had given you lots and lots of lovely painkillers and when you woke up you just started babbling and couldn't seem to stop. You told me everything."
Harry paled. "Everything?"
"Everything," Karen confirmed. "Told me you loved me, called Mia a slut, groused at me for peeking in your pocket… You even told me what you thought of yourself near the end. It was … sad, but illuminating."
He flushed. "Oh no. What did I say?"
Karen sighed. "You felt … how shall I put this? … unattractive."
There was a rather long pause. "Well …" said Harry. He couldn't quite meet her eyes or finish his sentence.
"For what it's worth, I think you're sexy."
"Oh, please," he said quietly.
"What, I do! You're the one who doesn't find me sexy, that's the problem."
That got him. Harry quickly covered his surprise with sarcasm. "Oh yes, you've smoked me out. I blew my salary on diamonds because I can't stand you."
Karen pressed against him and laughed into his chest, breaking the mood. She peeked up at him. "Harry, I do think you're sexy. And by the way, I don't always turn away from you. Sometimes you turn away from me."
Harry denied this with a snort. They stayed snuggled against each other for a few moments, watching the kids playing in the dining room (nicely for once).
"What happened to us?" he asked, staring at them.
Time had worked its quiet magic. They had healed enough to finish this.
"We got wrinkly and fat and tired," Karen said honestly. "Except you got more wrinkly than fat and I got more fat than wrinkly."
"That is completely untrue. You are not wrinkly, and you're certainly not fat. You do look rather thinner, though. This gym habit of yours is starting to worry me. It's like you're trying to disappear."
Karen noticed that he hadn't repudiated the statement about him, just her. "I'm not going to disappear, Harry. And maybe once you can walk without those things you should join me."
"Dropping hints, are we?"
"It made me feel better about myself," she said with a shrug. "Come with me after work and I'll show you the ropes. Once you've got the hang of it, start going on your own. That'll make you feel sexy again – no secretarial aid required."
Harry ignored her last little jab. "Hmm. All right, you have a deal."
They actually shook on it. And both of them felt a little better. If Harry knew Karen, and he did know Karen, it wouldn't stop here. There would be more conversations. Eventually, there would be some public tears (instead of her usual private ones) and a bit of name-calling, when she felt comfortable enough to scream at him for being such an insecure idiot. He set himself in the moment though, determined to enjoy this bit of make-up cuddling while it lasted.
The phone ringing startled them both. The receiver was next to Harry, so he picked it up and squinted at the display. The number was unfamiliar. He shrugged at Karen and pressed the button to talk.
"Hello? … Oh Sarah, how are you? … Yes, she did, thanks for bringing it by. … What?" He broke into a smile and laughed softly. "That's fantastic. Congratulations. May I tell Karen? … My God. Bravo, love. … Well, I'm glad you called us too. … Yes, I'll see you next week. Don't you care come back before Monday! … Yes, all right, goodbye."
He rang off. Karen was staring at him, mystified. He smiled at her.
"Karl proposed."
Karen cheered and actually shook a fist in the air. "Oh, that's brilliant! I was so hoping he'd ask her! Oh, we'll have to throw them a big congratulations party after New Year's. Oh, Harry!"
"It was really quite cute. She said he proposed at some nice restaurant. He took her out for high tea, put the ring on her finger and afterwards took her to his family's house, where his whole family was gathered, to formally present her to his parents as his fiancée."
"Oh my. How romantic! And she called us because?"
"Well darling, she hasn't got a whole lot of people to share the news with."
"Oh that's right. Well, I'm so glad she called here. Oh, I'm so excited for her. That's wonderful!"
Bernie came running in just then with his cell phone. "Mum? George wants to have me over for supper tonight, can I go?"
"No, you can't," said Karen. "We're going to Uncle David's for dinner, remember?"
"And Auntie Natalie's," Harry muttered. Karen elbowed him. "Ow. What?"
David and Natalie had been engaged since July. Due to David's stressful position and Natalie's work schedule they hadn't quite managed to set a date yet, although David had a nearly constant smile on his face, Natalie had a startlingly large rock on her finger, and they were sharing a very nice suite at 10 Downing Street. Harry glanced over at Karen in her earrings and wondered what Natalie would make of them.
That night after an excellent and lively dinner, they got home rather late. The kids were yawning and arguing over who had got the better Christmas cracker. Karen was thrilled. David and Natalie had finally managed to set a date and get some basic weddings things planned out. She was chattering about it excitedly, sounding as bright and cheerful and unforced as she had sounded before the whole disaster with Mia. And Harry thumped in at the end of their little parade, sagging in relief. Somehow everything had truly ended up okay, in spite of his idiotic mistake last year. The kids ran by into the dining room while Karen helped Harry out of his coat, peeling it off his shoulders and hanging it up for him while he balanced on his crutches. He obediently lowered his head so she could pluck off his hat and hang that too. Karen hurried away to chase the kids out of the dining room and herd them off to bed; Harry started up the stairs.
About twenty minutes later the kids were in bed and Karen came into the bedroom. All the lights were off except for Harry's bedside lamp. He was almost done arranging himself under the covers and watched with undisguised interest as Karen undressed just beyond the chest of drawers, balancing with one hand against the wall.
She slipped out of her lacy black evening outfit and heels, peeled off her pantyhose, gently took off her new earrings, and put them in a china dish on the dresser while snagging her nightgown. With efficient motions she pulled it over her head and slipped under the covers, tantalizingly close.
She settled on her side, facing away from him. Harry's hopes sank. They both lay still for a few interminable seconds, she taut as a spring and facing the bureau, he flat on his back with his neck cricked from staring desperately at her shoulders. He was unable to move for his leg.
But then, ever so slowly, almost as if she were steeling herself to jump from a great height, she rolled over and faced him. Her eyes were clear and her mouth was taut and straight.
Harry met his wife's courage head-on. He reached out under the covers and pulled her into an embrace.
His injury made it awkward; she was half lying on top of him, her freed breasts loose under her nightgown and crushed painfully against his ribs. They both ignored the discomfort. Karen adjusted herself until she was cuddled up against him with her head on his chest. Harry re-positioned his arms and held her tight, unable to remember the last time he'd felt so wonderfully warm. They lay like this for a while, as though someone had glued them together a bit wrong, listening to the little night sounds around them and drifting.
"I can't believe I forgot," Harry said finally.
"Forgot what, darling?" Karen asked.
"The bloody Christmas lights. I never got a chance to buy new ones. Or put them up. I'm sure the children noticed."
Karen snorted, mostly at the direction his thoughts had taken. "Harry, if the children gave a fig about it, I'd know. Believe me. They knew exactly why you couldn't put the lights up, and they're firmly convinced that Santa didn't miss the house because of the excessive wattage on either side of us. It's fine." She stopped and thought for a second. "We should definitely get some new ones for next year, though."
"You mean you didn't like the amazing exploding light bulbs? I'm shocked. Well, I'll take care of it. Perhaps I'll get a bit bolder next time. I'll do like the Hendersons next door and outline the front of the house. That might be nice and … why are you laughing?"
Karen had interrupted him by giggling into his neck. "Sorry. Sudden vision," she said.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Of what?"
"Of you," Karen said, "trussed up completely in Christmas lights …"
Harry leered at her. She swatted him and continued. "…dangling off the roof like an enormous disco ball and shouting for help."
He shot her a grumpy look, which was ruined somewhat by the smile ticking into his jaw. "Lovely. Am I really that rubbish at hanging lights, or are you just mocking me for the hell of it?"
"Mmm," said Karen, closing her eyes and ignoring his question. "Now I'm setting it to the theme music from Curb Your Enthusiasm."
Harry considered her comment for a second, trying to remember the tune. Then he burst out laughing and immediately tried to stifle himself with the sheets, lest he wake the children.
"Darling, I'm serious," Karen said, trying to control her own giggles. "Please don't. Just buy one nice line and get the porch. It's all right. Ooh, maybe we can get those zigzagging icicles! Those are so pretty."
"Icicles? What the hell do we need icicles for?" Harry responded, wiping his face on the comforter. "In case you hadn't noticed, it's cold, woman. We get those naturally."
Harry knew full well what Karen was referring to, but it was too much fun to bait her. The glint in his eyes, accompanied by his overdone enunciation of 'naturally,' was enough to incite her to tickle him. She managed to get his ribs before he could shield himself and he produced a small, squeaky noise.
"Stop that!"
"I can't help it. Not only is my husband rubbish at hanging Christmas lights, he's a ridiculous tease."
"I do try," he said gallantly.
There is something about the air in a room that can change with the emotions of the two people in it. They got comfortable again (Harry made sure to keep Karen's hands well clear of his ribs) and adjusted the covers. The clock chimed downstairs as they lay there, cozy and giddy, while Harry grinned like a fool and Karen got rid of the last of her chuckles, and they changed the air around them until it felt different. Younger. Harry tipped his head back into the pillow and smelled warm cider and smoke. He wondered if Karen smelled it too.
The night had gone absolutely still. They breathed in and out into the silence and it was almost as though someone was carefully tipping the water out of a teacup, pouring off the years and the house and the children, leaving only the pungent, spicy dregs, the Harry and Karen of long ago. They were Here certainly, but they were also There, twenty-somethings fresh out of university, cuddled in bed in Harry's chilly, cramped flat with leaky windows and a demonic stove determined to burn anything that anyone put in it. They were not old, and they were not tired.
They were ready.
"I've so missed you," Karen murmured.
"I've missed you too," Harry rumbled in her ear.
Their lips met and Karen tangled her hands in his hair. Harry hunted around for a gathering of fabric and slipped his hands under her nightgown. He began to roam around the soft, smooth skin of her back, locating as if by instinct the little mole to the right of her spine, riding her hip. He lazily circled it with a finger, pleased to have found something so familiar. Karen made the final leap then, straddling him under the covers for better leverage and hugging his waist with her knees. She deepened the kiss as she folded herself down like a collapsible chair and pressed every possible inch of her warm body to his.
Harry noticed the maneuver, even occupied as he was. He quickly freed one hand and slapped off his bedside light, leaving them both in total darkness. Karen giggled.
The End