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Okay, now that I say that in my head, it sounds kind of needy, but ever since our trip to the cabin, there hasn’t been a day when Ben didn’t at least text me.
Should I be worried?
This week has been crazy though. Finals meant late-night study sessions and hours of writing papers. Even though I’m sure he would’ve liked to blow them off and put a larger dent in my box of condoms, Ben’s been good about respecting my full schedule. And, anyway, he’s had his own classes to worry about. Maybe he put things off till the last minute and has had to use every one of the last forty-eight hours to catch up.
I consider texting Jasper. I have his number from when we exchanged messages in the past about digital marketing.
But I hold off. The idea just seems too clingy.
What kind of relationship do we have if I start texting his friends to find out where he is?
So, it’s settled. I won’t text Jasper.
Today.
Even though the radio silence from Ben chafes, I’m still filled with a sense of freedom. My last test was an hour ago, and I don’t have to worry about school again until January. In just over a week, I’ll be giving Ben my kidney, but right now, I have no plans or obligations. I don’t even have to work at the bar tonight.
Taking advantage of this rare break in my normally hectic schedule, I brave the cold to stroll around the city. The chill in the air fogs my breath, but I’m toasty warm in my puffy winter coat. Deciding to treat myself, I stop in at my favorite bakery to buy an almond croissant and green tea. I’ve been rich in croissants lately. Ben always has one for me when I show up at his dialysis treatments. I think he sees them as a form of bribery, so I’ll keep coming.
Guess he hasn’t realized I’d sit with him for free.
Choosing to take my treats to go, I continue on with my walk, window-shopping and enjoying all the Christmas-themed displays. The rich crimsons mix beautifully with deep forest greens, the latter reminding me of Ben’s irises. My favorite displays are the ones with pine trees covered in sparkling white lights. Grams never liked the multicolored strands. She said they were gaudy, and she’d rather have a display that resembled glowing snow.
Holidays always bring up the clearest memories of her, and the hurt in my heart pounds. But I’ve experienced the pain long enough that it’s bearable now. So, I just press a hand to my chest, acknowledging the ache, and continue admiring the window displays.
Despite their loveliness, none of the colors are bright enough to entice me to crack open my wallet.
Money is tight again this year, even with Ben’s promise to pay my upcoming rent. And I’m still not completely comfortable with that. The idea skirts a little too close to me getting paid for my kidney. I tried to think of it as being bundled with my medical bills for the procedure, which are all being covered by Ben’s insurance, but my conscious won’t have it.
Next time we talk, I think I’m going to have to tell him paying my rent is a no-go.
With limited cash in my pocket, I had to get creative when it came to Christmas gifts. Luckily, I have a best friend who’s a photography major. Marcus and Pops are not particularly materialistic, which is why I think they’ll be completely happy with the black-and-white candid photos Terra took when she stopped by the house over Thanksgiving break. She showed me the negatives, and there was a perfect image of the three of us together. I’ve got my eyes shut with a wide grin and my finger pointing at my brother, whose head is thrown back, face contorted in laughter, as he clutches his stomach. All the while, Pops watches us, his hand half-covering his mouth but not enough to obscure the distinct curve of his lips.
I asked her for three copies. One I kept for myself; the other two I framed and wrapped.
Terra and I, fully aware of each other’s financial situations, decided we’d keep it simple by picking out a Christmas ornament for one another to add to our plastic tabletop tree. The one I found for her is a palm-sized elephant, her favorite animal, wearing a little Santa Claus hat.
For Ben, I struggled a bit but was saved about a week ago while searching through a local used bookstore. Sitting on the shelf, like it knew I was coming, was a big, beautiful book about the histories of tattoos. Okay, so maybe it isn’t super beautiful; the spine is creased, and some corners are folded. But I think he’ll like it all the same.
So, my shopping is done. Who says the holidays have to break the bank?
Probably someone with more than four people to shop for.
When my nose turns numb, I decide to head home. I do have one thing I need to get done.
I’m arranging my clothes in neat piles on my bed and watching SNL’s The Best of Eddie Murphy when my phone chimes. Diving for it, my initial burst of excitement dies when Terra’s name flashes across the screen. Still, talking to her is way better than playing the same loop of questions over and over in my head.
I pause the video and answer the call, “Hey.”
“Hey, roomie! How’s it going? You crying alone in our apartment, missing me?”
I snort. “Yep. You got it. Already ran out of tissues. How’s Fayetteville?”
“Boring. Faith had to go do Army stuff, so I’m just Netflix and chilling by myself at the hotel.”
Now that she mentions it, I can hear the drone of the TV in the background.
“Only boring people get bored.” That was a line Grams would throw at me whenever I whined for her to entertain me.
