Waiting for Wyatt

Waiting for Wyatt

Lisa wasn’t thinking of the December weather as she sat in her favorite chair, flipping through People magazine with a chenille blanket over her lap and a cup of peppermint tea within reach. Yet, somehow, her body sensed the stillness that always accompanies the first snowfall. Her arms prickled with goosebumps, and she instinctively looked towards the big bay window at the front of the house. Sure enough, blurry white flakes were drifting down - the first kiss of winter. Lisa smiled at the beauty of it all, but her eyes quickly returned to the glossy pages of People. She needed a distraction while she waited for Wyatt.

It seemed to Lisa that she was constantly waiting for Wyatt these days. The time she was with him rushed by in a haze of contentment, and then she was left counting the minutes until he was back in her arms. Lisa was a lawyer, an analytical thinker by nature and trade. Her logical brain understood why he had to leave so often. But her heart didn’t want to understand. She missed him so much it hurt.

Lisa tried to keep reading about Brad Pitt and his new young girlfriend, but her mind traveled back to another first snowfall in this house. Was that the first year they were married, or the second? She couldn’t remember now. So much had happened in the intervening years, so much that she never could have imagined when she was a newlywed with stars in her eyes and a new “Mr. & Mrs.” ornament to hang on the tree. She could picture the two of them that day, racing out into the swirl of snowflakes, spinning in circles until they fell, laughing, into each other’s arms. The memory warmed her as if she’d held her hands out to a crackling fire. Should she make a fire now, or wait for Wyatt?

Once again, the thought sent her hurtling back in time. It was their seventh holiday together. He’d risen from bed early to get the fire started, wanting Lisa to feel warm and cozy when she woke on Christmas morning. That was the kind of thing he did often – waking up first to brew her favorite coffee, or trudging outside to clear the snow from her windshield. She could still see the look on his face when he’d opened his last gift that morning: a mug with the words “#1 Dad” emblazoned on the side. He’d swooped her into his arms and they’d both laughed and cried, putting their hands on Lisa’s still-flat stomach. It would be months until they felt their baby’s kicks and flips, but he’d already changed everything. He’d turned them into a family.

Lisa smiled and wiped tears from her eyes. These were some of the best memories of her life, ones she’d cherish until she died. But they didn’t lessen the ache she felt for Wyatt now. Where was he, anyway? It was getting dark, the fresh snow making the roads slippery and dangerous. Her mind briefly spun to car crashes, ambulances, a police officer’s knock at the door, but she purposely sent it spinning away again. There was no point thinking like that. Wyatt would be here soon, and all would be well.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, and Lisa’s stomach dropped to the floor. But when she opened it, she found not a police officer, but a tall, handsome man with a knit cap pulled over sandy blond curls. Her heart swelled at the sight of him.

           “Hey, Lis,” he said, almost shyly. “It’s snowing.”

           “Yep,” she said with a laugh. “I can see that.”

           “MOMMY!”

           A little boy burst from behind the man’s legs and catapulted himself into Lisa’s arms.

           “Wyatt! Hi, sweetheart!”

           She squeezed her son tight as the stress and longing of the past few days melted away.

           Lisa stood, hefting Wyatt onto her hip. At four years old, he was getting a bit heavy to carry, but there was no way she was putting him down now. She missed him desperately when he was with his dad. Wyatt was her best little friend, the one bright spot in a string of dark years. And now, not only was he back home, but it was snowing! She reminded herself to dig out his sled from the depths of the garage. She’d take him to his favorite hill tomorrow if they got enough snow cover.

           She looked at the man before her, someone she used to know better than anyone on Earth. Was this really the man who’d spun circles with her in the snow? The one who’d gotten up early to build her a Christmas fire? Dave was looking down at his shoes, clearly uncomfortable. Lisa glanced past him to the SUV idling in the driveway, to the shadowy figure in the passenger seat who was surely watching their every move.

           She cleared her throat, and Dave met her eyes.

           “How’s Cheryl?” she asked. “Everything good with the babies?” Had he any idea what it cost her to ask that question?

           “Good, good,” he said, nodding. “Due any day now.”

           “Well . . .” Lisa said. “Ok then.” Sometimes, words aren’t enough.

           “Ok then,” he repeated, and leaned in to kiss Wyatt on the cheek. “I love you, bud. See you in a few days.

           He looked back at Lisa. “I’ll let you know if . . . anything happens. With the twins.”

           “Ok,” she said. “You know I can always keep him longer.” She gave Wyatt another squeeze, and he giggled. She’d keep him forever if she could.

           “Thanks, Lis,” Dave said, backing down the porch steps. “See you soon.”

           Lisa turned and shut the front door, cutting off Wyatt’s shouts of “Bye Daddy! Bye Cheryl!” She couldn’t stand to watch Dave walk away again.  Instead, she knelt in front of Wyatt and tousled his sandy blond curls.

           “I missed you, bud! Want to help me make a fire?”

           “Yeah!” Wyatt cried. “Bunny wants to help, too!” He sprinted towards his bedroom, where his beloved stuffed bunny waited on his bed. Lisa couldn’t stop herself – she took one last look out the window. Dave was leaning over her car, wiping snow from the windshield. Didn’t he know it would just be buried again in an hour? Her logical brain didn’t get it, but her heart understood. Sometimes, words aren’t enough.

           Lisa turned away from the window and the man she used to know. She had a fire to make, and a sled to find.

           Her baby boy was home.