After I’d been writing for a while, I made the mistake of forgetting that I was pregnant. I shifted to a more comfortable position and all at once, nature called. Again. When I opened the door to the hallway, I was surprised to hear conversation drifting from the living room. Peeking around the corner to see who it was, I noticed Gwen placing a cardboard box full of ornaments and lights in front of the Christmas tree and vaguely remembered my aunt telling me that we were going to decorate it tonight after work.
What I hadn’t expected was to see Bryce chatting with my aunt as she tuned the radio, finally settling on a station that was playing Christmas music. I felt my stomach do a little flip at the sight of him, but at least I wasn’t wearing pajamas and slippers and looking generally like I rode the rails, hobo style.
“There you are,” Aunt Linda said. “I was about to come get you. Bryce just arrived.”
“Hi, Maggie,” Bryce said. He was still wearing the same jeans and T-shirt, and I couldn’t help noticing the pleasing silhouette his shoulders and hips made. “Linda invited me over to help with the tree. I hope that’s okay.”
I was momentarily speechless, but I don’t think any of them noticed. Aunt Linda was already slipping into her jacket on her way out the door. “Gwen and I are going to make a quick run to the store to get some eggnog,” she said. “If you two want to get started on the lights, feel free. We’ll be back in a few minutes.”
I remained in the doorway before remembering with painful urgency why I’d left my room in the first place. I went to the bathroom and washed my hands afterward. Peering into the mirror above the sink, even I could tell I was tired, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I ran a brush through my hair, took a breath, and went out, wondering why I suddenly felt nervous. Bryce and I had been alone in the house already for hours; why was this any different?
Because, a voice inside me whispered, he’s not here to tutor me. He’s here because clearly Aunt Linda wanted him to come over, not for her, but because she thought I might like that.
By the time I walked out of the bathroom, Aunt Linda and Gwen were gone and Bryce had pulled a strand of lights from the box. I watched him struggle to untangle them, and playing it cool, I fished out a different strand and started untangling, too.
“I finished my reading,” I said. “Some of my paper, too.” Without sunlight streaming through the windows, his hair and eyes seemed darker than usual.
“Good for you,” he said. “I took Daisy for a walk on the beach and then my parents had me chop firewood. Thanks for having me over.”
“Of course,” I said, even though I’d had no say in the matter.
He finished with his strand and scanned the room. “I need to check to make sure the lights are working. Is there an outlet handy?”
I had no idea. I’d never needed to know where the outlets were, but I think he was mostly talking to himself, because he bent lower, peering under the table next to the couch. “There it is.”
He squatted down, his movements fluid, and reached underneath to plug in the strand. I watched as the multicolored lights blinked on.
“I love decorating Christmas trees,” he offered, heading to the box again. “It gets me into the spirit of things.” He reached for another strand just as I finished untangling mine. I plugged it into the strand on the floor, watching as it blinked on as well, then reached for another strand.
“I’ve never decorated a tree.”
“Really?”
“My mom usually does it,” I said. “She likes it to look a certain way.”
“Oh,” he said, and I could tell he was puzzled. “It’s the opposite in our house. My mom sort of directs while the rest of us do it.”
“She doesn’t like to decorate?”
“She does, but you’d have to meet her to understand. The eggnog was my idea, by the way. That’s part of our tradition and as soon as I mentioned it, your aunt Linda thought we should have some here, too. I was telling her how well I thought you did today. Especially at the end. I barely had to help you at all.”
“I’m still pretty far behind.”
“I’m not worried,” he said. “If you keep going like you did today, you’ll catch up in no time.”
I wasn’t so sure. He clearly had more confidence in me than I did. “Thanks for all your help. I’m not sure that I told you before you left. I was kind of out of it by then.”
“No worries,” he said. He took my strand and checked those lights as well. “How long have you lived in Seattle?”
“Since I was born,” I said. “Same house. Same bedroom, in fact.”
“I can’t imagine what that would be like. Until we got here, I moved pretty much every other year. Idaho, Virginia, Germany, Italy, Georgia, even North Carolina. My dad was at Fort Bragg for a while.”
“I don’t know where that is.”
“It’s in Fayetteville. South of Raleigh, about three hours from the coast.”
“Still doesn’t help. My knowledge of North Carolina is pretty much limited to Ocracoke and Morehead City.”
He smiled. “Tell me about your family. What do your mom and dad do?”
“My dad works on the line at Boeing. I think he does riveting, but I’m not really sure. He doesn’t talk about it much, but I get the sense it’s the same every day. My mom works part-time as a secretary at our church.”
“And you have a sister, right?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Morgan. She’s two years older than me.”
“Do you two look alike?”
“I wish,” I said.
“I’m sure she says the same thing about you.” His compliment caught me off guard, the same way it had in the morning when he’d told me I looked really nice. Meanwhile, Bryce retrieved an extension cord from the box. “I guess we’re ready,” he said. He plugged in the extension cord and attached the first strand of lights. “Do you want to lead or adjust?”
I wasn’t sure what he was talking about. “Adjust, I guess.”
“Okay,” he said. Gripping the tree, he gently scooted it away from the front window, making more space. “It’s easier to get around the tree this way. We can move it back when we’re finished.”
Making sure the cord had enough slack, he began stringing the lights at the back of the tree, then circled to the front. “Just make sure there are no gaps or places where the lights are too close together.”
Adjusting. Got it.
I did as he asked; it wasn’t long before the first strand was at an end, and he plugged in the next one. We repeated the process, working together.
He cleared his throat. “I’ve been meaning to ask what brought you to Ocracoke.”
And there it was. The question. Actually, I was surprised it hadn’t come up earlier, and I thought back to the conversation I’d had with my aunt and the impossibility of secrets in Ocracoke. And that, as she noted, it would be best if the answer came from me. I took a deep breath, feeling a flutter of fear.
“I’m pregnant.”
He was still bent over as he glanced up to face me. “I know. I meant why are you here in Ocracoke and not with your family?”