The Brink of Destruction

You remember--don't you?--that first magical moment, when you drift up out of warm sleep that smells like lambs, dawn just breaking and turning the edge of the horizon pink, and you realize that it's more than just another day. Just for today, the world slows down, smiles more, laughs louder, hugs more often. Is there anything that feels more deliciously exciting than Christmas morning?

Well, try this on for size--waking up to a pair of eyes as green as holly, smiling down at you as a gentle hand strokes your hair.

I never even heard the door creak open when he crept into my room, and when my eyes grew wide with surprise, he put a finger to his lips, smiling as he reached for my hands and pulled me to my feet.

"How long have you been up?" I whispered almost silently, knowing the slightest noise would wake the children. We tiptoed across the rug like thieves, and he pointed to the door of the room where the littlest ones slept, raising his eyebrows as if to ask "Can I?"

"Sure," I nodded, and he raised one knuckle to tap lightly on the door. From inside, there was a sudden flurry of footsteps, a staccato beat underneath squeals of joy. The door burst open, and Billie was almost knocked flat as Macy, Tyler and Erin raced past him and stampeded down the stairs. Tara shuffled unsteadily out after them, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Merry Christmas!" Billie said quietly, and when she recognized his voice, her face lit up like sunshine.

"Hi, Billie! Hi, Gen! Merry Christmas!" she said, her kittenish voice still thick with slumber. He ruffled her hair with one callused hand, and she threw her arms around his waist to hug him.

"Go see what Santa brought you!" he said, leaning down with excitement.

"Um, Billie, I'm nine. I know--" she started to explain.

"You know Santa? Hey, so do I! I talked to him for a while last night, and told him how good you'd been, so I think he left you something extra special!"

She reached up and tweaked his nose playfully, and then ran downstairs to join the other kids. I could hear them gasping and squeaking with joy, and the sounds of tearing paper were an orgy of happiness.

I knocked on the other doors to let the adults know it was time to get up, and my dad groaned his acknowledgment. "Is there any coffee yet?" he asked, his voice doubtful.

"Sorry, Dad, but I'll go make some for you now, how's that?" I laughed.

Heavy sigh. "I guess that'll be okay. I'll be down with the screwdriver and the box of batteries in just a minute."

"Better take the Tylenol, too," I heard my mom mumble.

As I slid my hand down the polished stair rail, the sparkle of the beautiful diamond startled me, and I stopped dead in my tracks, the memory of the night before catching up with me at last.

"Ooofff!" Billie grunted, grabbing the railing to keep from plowing into me. "Hey, don't slam on brakes like that! Crazy women drivers!" he laughed, pinching my behind.

I whirled around on him, hands on my hips. "You better watch that, mister--that was very naughty!"

He leaned down to growl into my ear, "I already got what I wanted for Christmas, missy, and you just better remember you belong to me now!" His arm was strong around me, protecting me from falling, and I could see the crinkles around his eyes from the huge smile on his face.

"You've got a verbal agreement, that's it--the deal isn't closed until you say 'I do'," I whispered back. "And you better be on your best behavior, or I might have to tear up your contract!"

I pretended to huff down the stairs, and when I grabbed the post at the end of the railing to swing around toward the kitchen, he caught me in his arms, turning me to face him. With a quick glance toward the balcony to make sure we were still alone for a moment, he pulled my midriff hard against him, and bent his head to crush his lips against mine. His other arm wrapped around the back of my neck, and he tilted me off my feet, dipping me backwards into his embrace, and his soft, velvet tongue swept against the inside of my mouth, demanding a response. Then he was lifting me back to my feet, his hands on my shoulders, straightening my hoodie and smoothing my hair.

"What was that you said about tearing up the contract?" he teased, smirking just a little.
I tried to focus, but everything was spinning, tilting to one side. Holding his shoulder to keep my balance, I stammered, "N-nothing, I was j-just saying how nice a J-June wedding would be." My knees were starting to firm up now, and I looked at him in amazement. "How do you DO that?" I asked.

He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, smugness personified. "I'm just damn sexy, I guess. Which is why you're gonna marry me, I presume?"

Just as I was about to answer, movement on the balcony caught my eye. Mom and Dad, still in PJ's and robes, shuffled like zombies toward the stairs, and my Aunt Lisa and Uncle David followed along behind them.

"Mornin, sunshine," Dad yawned, his hair standing up at odd angles. "Merry Christmas. Kids up?" He spoke in shorthand until after he'd had at least two cups of coffee.

"They just came downstairs. Sounds like the damage is already done, I think," I said, kissing his cheek. Mom hugged Billie and me together, one arm around each of us, and kissed our foreheads like little children. "Merry Christmas, you two."

"Isn't anyone going to supervise the children? They've been making a lot of noise," croaked a voice like a raven's. Grandma was standing in the kitchen doorway, hair flawlessly combed and sprayed, crisp white blouse fastened at the neck with a cameo, like a spinster librarian.
Mom, out of line of sight, rolled her eyes as if to say, "Here we go again."

Dad came to the rescue. "Don't worry, Phyllis, I'm taming the lions today. Just let me get a cup of courage and I'll settle 'em down."

Her lips pursed tightly; she wasn't happy about the noise and mess in the den, and wanted something done right away. "Well, you might need to speak to them before--"

"Why don't you come in the kitchen with me and let me fix you a cup, too? You take yours with a little cream and sugar, right?" he interrupted, before she could get on a roll.

Billie had to turn away, muffling a snicker in his fist, his eyes screwed shut with the effort. Grandma sniffed in resignation, and followed my dad into the kitchen. I could still hear her lecturing him as he filled the pot with water and scooped out the grounds. "Mmm hmm, okay," he mumbled, clearly tuning her out as best he could.

"Your poor father," Billie lamented, shaking his head. "He's got more patience than I do!"
"He's had a lot of practice," I said. "She spends two weeks with us every summer, and most of the time he just stays in the barn. He says he's working on the tractor, but when I go up there, he's usually listening to baseball on the radio."

As the rich smell of brewing coffee wafted through the house, Billie and I settled into a corner of the sofa. Once everyone had joined us, Tara volunteered to pass out the gifts, and there was a low and constant buzz of "Why, thank you--it's lovely!" and "Oh, this is terrific!" and "Where on earth did you find these?" I presented Billie a collection of CD's I'd been jotting down for weeks, each time he mentioned something he wanted but didn't have. He loved them, poring over and over the covers and pointing out all the songs he recognized.

"This is just awesome!" he grinned, leaning close to be heard over the joyous chaos. "You must have every album I've been lusting over for the last year!" I leaned against him, my head on his shoulder, content that this must be as good as it gets.

The day wore on, as Christmas mornings will do, and soon the children were getting restless and ready to play outside before the long ride home. My aunts and uncles, dressed now and somewhat less bleary, began to pack their cars with the fallout from the holiday, and made their final checks upstairs for wallets and cell phones, toothbrushes and slippers. Mom, of course, was packing bags of leftovers to send home with them, and topping them off with cookies and fudge. Just what the kids need in the backseat of the car--more sugar!
The noise must have been getting to me, and I could feel the sly hint of a headache curling behind my eyes. More noticeably, my stomach was protesting as well, no doubt from the rich food we'd been overindulging in.

My family, Mylanta.

I volunteered to take the cold walk to the barn to feed the horses, thinking the fresh air would help, and no matter how much I tried to get him to stay put and stay warm, Billie insisted on coming along. "You'll get done faster if I help," he said, pulling on his gloves and boots.

"Besides, I haven't done much to pull my weight and pay your parents back for all this good cooking!" He slid the back door open in its track, and laced his fingers through mine as the squeaky crunch of our footsteps in the snow broke the soft silence.

"It's been a long time since I've had a big family Christmas," he said, squinting up at the leaden sky still drifting snow. "Seems like we're all scattered now, and it's hard to get everyone together."

"Did we get on your nerves?" I asked, only half-joking.

"God, no. I love it. The kids are the best part. They don't think about anything except how much fun they're having."

"Must be nice not to have to worry about the future, just enjoy things as they happen. I wish I could do that."

He was quiet for a moment. "Sounds like you're forgetting something," he said softly, and I could hear a trace of hurt in his voice. "I thought maybe you'd be looking forward to the future now." He didn't look up at me, just kept his eyes on his boots as they crunched the fluffy snow.

"Oh, God, Billie--I am, you know that! I'm just wondering what's gonna happen in the next few days. I mean, I don't even know if I'll still be in school or not. I just wish it was over, and I could move on and know what to expect. It's not knowing that's driving me nuts."

His footsteps slowed, and he stood gazing off at the mist that hung over the tops of the pines along the ridge, eyes narrowed in thought. "How come you haven't told your parents that I asked you to marry me?" he asked, his thumb absently stroking the ring on my left hand. "Don't you want them to know?"

It was so unexpected it left me blinking in surprise. "Of course I do! It's just that I want to be able to tell them without a dozen relatives sitting there making a big fuss about it. We're lucky Tara hasn't already spoiled it for us." I slid my arms around his neck, kissing his cold pink cheek. "Don't tell me you're getting insecure on me, stud muffin. You'll ruin my godlike image of you!" I tilted my head to one side, smiling up at him and waiting for him to laugh back at me, but his face stayed somber.

"What is it, baby?" I asked, feeling my smile melt away. I slid my hands down his shoulders, until my fingers curled through his.

"Or maybe it's because you're worried about what your grandmother will say," he said, blunt as always. "It's pretty easy to tell what she thinks of me." His head hung, as if it hurt him to say.

"It doesn't make a bit of difference to me. I love you, Billie. My parents adore you, Rae likes you, and Tara would run away with you if you so much as winked at her. What does it matter what a miserable, bitter old woman says?"

"I don't know. Maybe it doesn't." He pulled the big door open and held it for me as I ducked into the dim warmth inside and began filling the water buckets. "I just..." He trailed off, talking more to himself than to me. "I was all excited, waiting for you to give me a cue it was time to make our big announcement and surprise them, but you never did."

The splash of the water made the last words almost inaudible. I screwed the faucet shut again and stood to face him. He still avoided my eyes, bending to scoop the grain out of the barrel, gloves dangling from his back pocket like a limp leather flower.

Moving closer to him, I laid my hand on the curve of his back. "Billie, I'm so sorry if I hurt your feelings. There was no reason except that I wanted to wait until it was just Mom and Dad with us. At first, anyway. You've got to know that, don't you?" Why wouldn't he look at me?

"Genny, why did you say yes to me last night?" he finally asked, setting down the grain pail and leaning against the bales of hay, his arms crossed over his chest.

"What do you mean?" I asked. He had caught me off guard, and the sense that something was going wrong hung in the air like smoke from an unseen fire. The horses nickered softly in the shadows of their stalls, as if to remind us that we had come here for a reason.

The toe of his boot scuffed lazily in the chaff on the wooden floor as he glanced downward, and I could see that familiar expression as he tried to gather his thoughts into words.

"It surprised me how fast you answered, is all. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't hoping for you to turn me down!" he said quickly, raising his hand as if to wave away the idea. "But all morning I've been thinking about it, and after everything we've talked about, with your school and all, it just seemed funny that you wouldn't want to give it some thought."

His eyes, full of lost puppy softness and vulnerability that I'd never seen before, lifted hesitantly toward me even as his head stayed bowed. What he was saying hit me hard, and for a long moment I was silent, searching everything in my heart to be sure of the truth.

"It wasn't the first time I'd thought about being with you forever, Billie. You know that, because we've talked about it before. We've been through so much together that I know there's no one else I could ever love the way I love you. So yeah, it was an easy answer. Saying 'no' was just never a possibility."

The corners of his mouth lifted a little, and some of the uncertainty seemed to fade away from his expression. "I never doubted that, baby. But there's a lot more to being married than just loving each other, you know. And your life's going to change a lot if you end up with me."

"It's already changed a lot. I'm happier than I've ever been, and for the first time it really feels like my life, not a play I'm acting out for someone else."

"Have you thought about what your family's going to say?" When his eyes narrowed that way, his gaze so deep, it felt as if he could read my mind. Because, truth be told, I hadn't really given it much thought at all.

"Let's tell them as soon as everyone leaves, okay?" I asked, hugging him hard. He squeezed me in return, a smile flickering faintly.

"Sounds good. Just...I don't know, put in a good word for me for Grammy Phyllis or something. I have a feeling she's not gonna be happy."

We finished up at the barn, raking the stalls and putting down fresh hay, and tramped back through the ankle-deep snow to the house. Waving goodbye to everyone who was heading home, Billie kept his arm tight around me, and I couldn't tell if he was more excited or nervous.

Dad had built the fire back up, and it felt marvelous after being out in the cold for so long. He poured us all hot coffee, and Billie and I sat on the floor, backs to the delicious warmth. He looked over at me, as if to make sure it was time, and I smiled back with a reassuring wink.

"Dad, Billie and I wanted to talk to you and Mom about something," I began, realizing my mouth was dry. I took another careful sip from the steaming cup. Mom tucked one leg beneath her and got comfortable in the recliner, and I could have sworn she was almost grinning. Had she noticed the ring already?

"Sure thing, Peanut. What's up?" Dad said, sounding relieved at the sudden peace in the house.

"Well, I didn't have a chance to show you what Billie gave me for Christmas last night." I held up my hand for them to see. Sure enough, Mom grinned knowingly, and got out of her chair to wrap her arms around me.

"Congratulations, honey! How exciting! Is this what you two were doing down here after we went to bed?" she chuckled. "Boy, we missed all the excitement, didn't we?"

Dad sat, gaping like a trout, as he looked back and forth between my mother and me.

"Brenda, did you know about this?" he mumbled, clearly dumbstruck. "I--I'm so happy for you, sweet pea, I--"

I was ready for anything except the sight of my big, strong father tearing up. "Oh, Dad," I said, joining him on the sofa. I picked his limp arm up and draped it around my shoulders, snuggling against him. "Don't be sad! Now you'll have a son to do man things with!"

He cleared his throat, trying to blink away the puddles in his eyes. "No, I'm not--I'm not sad, I'm real happy for you! Really, I am!" It was easier for him to look at Billie than at me, while he struggled with his emotions. "Uh, Bill, I uh, well, I'm really glad to have you in the family," he gruffed, trying his best to sound strong.

Billie stood up, holding out his hand, but Dad would have none of it. His big arms almost swallowed Billie whole in a bear hug.

Grandma Phyllis had been watching silently from the armchair. Her hands had wadded themselves into tight little fists, which she tried to conceal beneath her lap blanket. Her dry lips pursed, sending out rays of wrinkles in the pale, powdered skin around them.

"Well, that's lovely," she croaked, and I saw Billie's head lift in her direction, expecting her to give us her harsh opinion on the matter. "I see everyone is quite happy. But tell me, Genesis, have you considered how this will affect your education?"

"Yes, Grandma, Billie and I have talked a lot about it, and he really wants me to finish school. I just have to decide which field I want to go into. I'm not sure medicine is the best for me anymore."

"Mmmyess," she said, snakelike. "And during these discussions, were you candid with him about your current status as a student?"

Mom and Dad looked at each other in confusion, not yet over the surprise of our engagement. "Mother, what are you talking about?" my mom asked. "She's just finished the semester--her grades haven't even come in yet."

The bony fingers slid inside the sweater she was wearing, and produced a long white envelope, already opened.

"Oh, but I'm afraid they have," she said, and the smile on her face was pure poison.