Kevin says, “Have you seen Mom and Dad?”
“No,” Patrick says. He’s pretending to read, but really he’s staring at the face of his phone, trying to send one of the most difficult texts of his life.
“It’s so weird to even say their names together like that,” Kevin says. “And I know this is going to sound nuts, but I think there’s something going on between them.”
“Confirmed,” Patrick says. “I saw the two of them sneaking out of Dad’s bedroom. They had definitely been going at it.”
Ava plops down on the sofa next to Kevin and Isabelle. “How are we supposed to feel about that? Our divorced parents are having a fling. Does anyone have the manual for How to Deal with Completely Screwed-Up Family Situations?”
“I would choose to be happy for them,” Isabelle says.
“I’m happy for them,” Kevin says.
Ava sighs. “I broke up with Nathaniel.”
“You did not,” Kevin says.
“I did,” she says. “Just now, over the phone.”
“Was it the boots?” Kevin asks. “Because I’m clueless, but even I know that boots are a sucky present.”
“The boots are symptomatic of a bigger problem,” Ava says. “I am not Nathaniel Oscar’s great, passionate love. I’m just not.”
Patrick stands up. He doesn’t want them to think he’s a heartless bastard, but he has actual problems. Forget that he has committed an egregious white-collar crime for a second. He didn’t just break up with his boyfriend/girlfriend. His wife of fourteen years walked out on him, taking his three sons away from him on Christmas. He can’t get any of them on the phone. He called Jen’s mother’s house and nobody answered. He, for one, is thrilled his parents are getting it on, because at this point it looks like Jennifer will ask him for a divorce, and Patrick’s only glimmer of hope is that twenty years from now, he and Jen will reunite in a similar manner.
As Patrick heads back to the owners’ quarters, there’s a knock at the door, and Patrick whips around. It’s Scott, the assistant principal. He’s wearing jeans, a tweedy jacket, and a red Vineyard Vines tie printed with bluefish wearing Santa hats. It’s the very same tie Jennifer bought Patrick to wear to the Everlast Christmas party.
Every part of Patrick’s body hurts.
Ava jumps up from the sofa to greet Scott.
Well, Patrick thinks, Nathaniel was easily replaced. And once Patrick goes to jail, he supposes he will be replaced as well.
Jennifer and the boys. How is he supposed to live without them?
Patrick locks himself in Bart’s room; Lindsay Lohan stares him down. He composes a text to Gary Grimstead: I won’t ruin your holiday, but a full confession will be forthcoming tomorrow. You have my most humble apology, man. I got tripped up. But I will do everything in my power not to take you down with me. Peace, PQ
He hits Send. It goes. It’s done. He will lose his job, accept his lashings from the press; he will go to jail and serve his time.
He feels a big, fat bong hit is in order. He fills Bart’s purple glass bong with fresh water and packs in some weed from the bag in Bart’s top drawer. It’s been a long time since he’s done this (not really: just since that trip to South Beach with the Playboy models, none of whom he so much as talked to, by the way).
He holds the smoke for as long as he can, then releases it.
Ahhhhhhhhh. His mind-set realigns almost immediately. Leave it to Bart to have some really choice drugs.
Patrick walks back out to the main room, thinking he will stare at the tree until he falls asleep; his mother will awaken him when dinner is ready. The aroma of the meat roasting is insane!
There’s a knock at the front door—another knock? Patrick tightens the belt of his bathrobe. It’s probably not a bad idea to pursue getting dressed at some point, especially since soon enough he will be wearing an orange jumpsuit. This thought strikes him as hilarious, and he starts giggling.
Ava opens the front door and—Ava screams. Happy? Sad? Scared? Patrick can’t tell.
Happy!
Jen and the kids walk in.
Whaaaaaaaaat? Patrick slaps himself in the face: Wake up, wake up! But it’s real; they’re here! Pierce wraps his arms around Auntie Ava, the two of them being favorite friends, and Jen ushers in Barrett and Jaime. Jaime comes barreling toward Patrick—Jaime the baby, the little guy. Patrick scoops him up.
“Daddy!”
He’s Daddy once again—oh, thank God! Tears start building up behind his eyes, but he can’t cry in front of his children. He is big, strong Daddy—Daddy, Master of the Universe. He cannot cry, but, wow—man, is he grateful.
Ava is good, she is brilliant; Patrick will never say a negative word about her again, because she herds the kids over to the Christmas tree, saying, “Guess what, guys, Santa stopped here for you!” This gives Patrick a moment of reunion with his wife.
“Jen…,” he says.
She slips quietly into his arms, right where she belongs. Haven’t they always marveled at how perfectly they fit together?
She buries her face inside his bathrobe. “Have you been smoking?” she asks.
“Yes,” he says. “I did a bong hit in Bart’s room. I was feeling… pretty low.”
“God,” she says, “I want a bong hit. Later, though, when the boys are asleep.”
He squeezes her tighter. They are always on the same page. “I missed you so much,” he says. “I nearly died from missing you.”
“We didn’t go to California,” she says. “I got as far as the Hilton at Logan. We spent a couple nights there, which the kids hated. So this morning we went back home and opened presents, and I ate the rest of the caviar, since it was open…”
The caviar, he thinks. He has so many things to be sorry about.
“Then, in the bathroom, I saw the bottle of Vicodin. I’m so glad you didn’t do anything stupid.”
“I did do something stupid,” he says.
She puts a finger across his lips, and then she kisses him. “Let’s talk about it later,” she says. “Right now, I’m just happy to be with you.”
Patrick wants to throw her over his shoulder and carry her back to Bart’s room to show her how happy he is. But at that moment, Kelley and Margaret emerge from the owners’ quarters, both of them freshly showered.
“Grandchildren!” Margaret cries with unmitigated glee.
“Your mother?” Jen asks. She runs a hand through her short, dark hair, and Patrick knows she is wishing for lipstick.
“Long story,” Patrick says.
“Where’s Mitzi?” Jen asks.
But he’ll have to explain later, because the room is suddenly a three-ring circus, with kids laughing and wrapping paper flying in the air and Kelley saying, “I didn’t think this day could get any better.”
Patrick marvels at how one of the best feelings in the world is finding something precious that he thought was gone forever.