Worth the Wait

Christmas had come and gone. Already, the first snow of winter had blanketed the city and the countryside. In fact, it snowed on Christmas Day, which turned the landscape into a true picturesque wonderland. It was the first Christmas I recall in a long time that I was sharing with both friends and family. A week before Christmas, I had thrown a party for some of my friends and of course, Roger was there. He was able to meet some of my closest friends I had known since entering the university. And naturally, I loved the way they adored him and us as a couple.

First semester grades had been distributed. I had three A’s and two B’s. I was pleased because I sure as hell could have worked harder. Before winter break, I had registered for spring semester. I sold some art pieces and added more to the student gallery. I completed six more sketches of Roger and added them to my portfolio.

  Two days before Christmas, Freddie had left town for a few days to be with his parents. He didn’t stay away from his flat long. Before he had left, he presented all of us: Me, Roger, John, Veronica, Brian and Chrissie with gifts. I thought it an endearing gesture. He had such a big heart. I think Freddie had very much enjoyed his time at home with his parents because he had talked non-stop about it when he had returned. I think he needed the time to get away to himself for a while because he returned from his visit more upbeat than ever.

 On Christmas Eve, Veronica and John had spent the day and night with Veronica’s parents and then Christmas day with John’s parents. They had gone to midnight Mass on Christmas Eve. John’s parents loved Veronica so much and vice versa. It was very hard not to love her. John’s mother always called Veronica a ‘sweet Catholic girl’. I was raised in the church of manners and money so I wouldn’t know whether she was a sweet Catholic or not. I just knew she was a jewel. John’s mother had gotten her a beautiful watch and Veronica plus her parents had gone in together to get John a new amplifier that he desperately needed. Veronica and John’s mother had prepared a beautiful Christmas dinner from how Veronica talked. Of course, they may have just been drunk on the eggnog and thought it was lovely. At any rate, she and John had a very perfect Christmas together.

 Much to my shock, Brian had spent Christmas Eve with Chrissie and her parents. To hear Chrissie talk, it was the happiest day of her life and she was fairly certain Brian felt the same. Since they had met in October, they had been absolutely inseparable. It was a connection so deep that it almost rivaled John and Veronica’s relationship. It had been two months and the fact that they had hugged each other only a month ago was monumental. Their hugs had become longer, tenser, and they lingered longer anytime they said goodbye. Chrissie wanted to throw her body into Brian every time she touched him, but she never did. In fact, it was painful watching them hug each other…there was only at five kilometers between them and they both acted like the other was a piece of lumber they were so damn rigid. Chrissie and her mum were doing dishes that night and she very softly said to Chrissie, while Brian was chatting with Chrissie’s father; that she thought Brian was very handsome. Chrissie’s mum didn’t have bad taste. Although, her mum had made the comment ‘the hair’s a bit much don’t ya’ think?’ Naturally, that sent Chrissie into a fit because she had a fantasy of pinning Brian down and digging her hands into all that dark hair.

 Chrissie had beamed over how much she loved Brian’s mum. She and Brian had arrived at the May home late Christmas morning. She and Brian had privately and awkwardly exchanged gifts that morning when he picked her up. Brian had gotten Chrissie one of the most thoughtful gifts I could imagine, a framed photo of the two of them that Freddie had taken after a show a few weeks back. When she told me about it, I was certain she was gonna’ explode. She had gotten Brian a set of books about space or stars or something; I really wasn’t sure. In any case, he loved them and was already halfway through one. Chrissie, Brian’s mum sat in the livin’ room looking at photo albums in front of the Christmas tree. Chrissie gushed over that. Brian’s dad had really taken a liking to her. In his words, she was ‘a most polite and welcome guest in their home’.  They played cards and drank tea. They mindlessly watched the telly and had more tea. Ruth May absolutely fell in love with Chrissie’s fondness and adoration for Brian. She did her best to teach Chrissie how to sew with the new kit that Brian had gotten for his mum for Christmas. Chrissie wasn’t good at it, but Brian’s mum certainly was. Brian had gotten his dad four tools that he needed and he was as happy as a school boy when he opened them. Chrissie learned how very close Brian was to his dad.

 And then, there was me an’ Roger. Christmas Eve we went to his mum’s. Winifred Taylor had prepared a lovely Christmas Eve meal. She kept commenting on how clean and nice I smelled. She petted my expensive clothes all night. I could tell she was a little nervous around me at first. It wasn’t until I was helpin’ her with the ham that she lightened up. Of course, she was also terrified I’d spill ham drippins’ on my silken sleeve. I laughed and told her not to worry about it. Roger’s younger sister Clare was there. The whole evenin’ was Mrs. Taylor, Clare and Roger all bickering playfully with each other. It was funny. It made me laugh as I stood back and watched it all unfold. Winnifred would yell at Roger to get something off the stove before it burned, Clare would yell at Winnifred sayin’ that whatever it was on the stove wasn’t cooked yet, and Roger would yell at Clare for yellin’ at Mrs. Taylor.

 She insisted I call her Winnie but it felt strange to me. I did, especially if it made her comfortable. Clare showered me with attention as if I were a movie star. She thought I was very glamorous and well-kept. Roger’s father had bailed on them many years ago so it was just the four of us. It was such a happy evenin’. Roger made fun of Clare, Clare made fun of Roger and we sat around the tiny kitchen table loving every moment of it. I bought Mrs. Taylor a beautiful white leather purse and all she did was swoon over it all evenin’. For his sister, a cashmere scarf and gloves. I didn’t have to get her anythin’ because I’d never met her. But, I was in someone else’s home as a guest. I felt it only proper. I loved listening to Winnifred complain about Roger’s hair having gotten much too long and how she absolutely hated his ripped jeans. She kept telling him to push all that hair out of his face and that he looked like a girl. Before we sat down to eat, she made him go put on trousers and what she called a ‘nice’ shirt. Then she apologized to me and told me that ‘she didn’t raise a hippie’. I couldn’t help laugh at her and give her a hug.

 I had been nearly sick to my stomach over the thought of Roger comin’ to my home for Christmas Day. It was a far cry from how we had spent Christmas Eve. I had been so nervous that he wouldn’t know how to take it all. The world of champion horses and the fourteen bedroom estate that I called home was a reality this Christmas. We had a lavish home to say the least and when we arrived, my mother opened up the enormous front door. Her reaction to Roger was one I wish I had sketched. With the look on her face, you would have thought she had just seen the queen. Her first comment was ‘oh my god, you’re like one of those big eyed dolls you order from a catalog.’ And her second comment, after hugging all over him was ‘Jesus, I could spread you on toast!’ Naturally, my mum offered Roger a glass of wine from a bottle that cost 200 pounds. In fact, on Christmas Day, not only did we have a fabulous spread of food but also the wine and champagne never stopped. I got Roger eight new drumheads and a platinum bracelet for Christmas. He loved it. As for what he got me? I never expected it and it left me speechless. We had an announcement to make. No! No! Not THAT announcement! You mad? And no, not THAT announcement, either! But it was somethin’…

 We had thirty-three over for Christmas brunch. Aunts, uncles, cousins, very close family friends. It was a happy time. Roger fit in like a glove, which not only made me very relaxed…it turned me on like crazy. I thought Roger would just die at the sight of our formal dining room and our Christmas tree, which smelled of fragrant pine. I thought he would choke on that 200 pound wine when he saw the rest of our home. He didn’t. In fact, I think Roger had decided that he liked money as much as my father. Speaking of my father, he took a great liking to Roger because he was skinny enough to change the oil in the Ferrari. He was also skinny enough to get under the hood of the Aston Martin and change the spark plug. The day after Christmas, Roger and my dad spent six hours in the garages with cars and whiskey. Roger loved cars and so did my dad and so they never ran out of things to talk about. They took the Ferrari out to the freeway and I took my champion…my black stallion…out to the riding ring.

 We stayed at my estate for a total of four days. During this time, we lived it up every day and at night, Roger would lie there beside me in bed and tell him all his hopes, all his fears, everythin’. He earned something from me that no man had earned in years: trust. And he trusted me too. It showed. My parents didn’t have a conservative bone in their body and so when my dad told Roger not to flush any condoms down our lavatory, it came as a surprise to Roger in more ways than one. My mother rolled her eyes and told my father she saw my birth control pills in my luggage. My mother would blush every time Roger offered her a cigarette. I made Roger get on a horse while we were at my estate. That was quite a sight and I would never forget it. My parents hated to see us leave. And we had all had such a wonderful four days. We promised to come back.

 That sums up our time before the biggest party night of the year. New Year’s Eve. It was 10:30 in the morning and I was havin’ a cigarette on Roger’s couch and makin’ notes with Veronica while he read the paper. I held the phone up against my ear as we conversed about what time to start cookin’ New Year’s Eve dinner. The only plans that were affirmative thus far was that we were all to be at John and Veronica’s home at 5:30. We were determined to make this one hell of a party tonight.