Read Online Composing Amelia by Alison Strobel - Free Book Online Page B

paying enough for her to quit either of her other positions, the mere knowledge that she would soon be performing again made the less-enjoyable parts of her day far easier to bear. However, it did nothing to soothe things between her and Marcus, and that was the part of her life that most concerned her.
    Amelia loved Marcus, but she wondered if he’d begun to doubt it. The way they interacted had changed so much since he’d returned from Wheatridge. She didn’t feel comfortable being herself anymore. She worried she’d inadvertently say something to hurt his feelings again. He, too, seemed guarded, more measured with his conversation, more careful with his touches.
    She glanced at the clock as she woke and calculated their morning schedule. They had nearly two hours before they had to be at church, which gave them plenty of time to exchange gifts, eat breakfast, and get ready for the day—as well as time to reconnect in a more intimate way.
    Amelia slipped closer to Marcus beneath the covers and twined her limbs around her husband, whispering “Merry Christmas, baby” in his ear as he stirred from sleep.
    He gave her a slow smile that lit his face in the way it had before this mess had begun. “Hey. Merry Christmas to you, too.”
    She laid her head on his shoulder. “I’d like to propose a truce.”
    “A truce?”
    “A Christmas truce. Let’s pretend we haven’t been fighting, and that we don’t have this giant decision looming over us. Let’s just … go back to how we were and let today be magical the way Christmas should be. Agreed?”
    His arms came around her, and he kissed her in the way she’d missed so much. “Agreed.”
    During breakfast, Marcus pulled a small box from beneath the table-top Christmas tree that adorned a TV tray beside the couch. “For you,” he said, handing her the box with a flourish.
    She smiled and ripped the sparkly red paper, then opened the package to find a black velvet jewelry box. “Oh my,” she said. “Fancy.” He wagged his eyebrows, making her giggle as she pulled up the lid. Inside sat a silver rectangular frame-like pendant with a snippet of sheet music inside.
    “From Mozart’s ‘Alla Turca , ’” he said, looking almost shy at the explanation. “Not the real thing—I mean, it’s a reproduction.” He shrugged. “I know you like that piece.”
    “Oh, Marcus. It’s beautiful.” She pulled it off the velvet pillow and clasped it behind her neck, then leaned across the table to hug him. “Thank you so much.” She never would have thought he could name a single classical piece she liked. She always assumed she bored him to death when she talked to him about her favorite composer. That he not only listened, but remembered, chastised her. Could she name any of his favorite … favorite what? Theologians? Missionaries? What kinds of profession-specific favorites did pastors have, anyway?
    Unwilling to break the good mood with thoughts of her own shortcomings, she stood and retrieved the gift she’d placed beneath the tree the night before. “For you. And, I am ashamed to say, not nearly as unique.”
    He chuckled as he unwrapped the gift. “My cologne. Thanks, I’m almost out.”
    “I noticed. And you can’t run out of that. It’s too delicious.”
    He kissed her. “Thank you.”
    “You’re welcome. I wish I could have gotten you more.”
    “I wish I could have gotten more for you, too. But that’s all right. It’s the nature of low-paying jobs in a high-cost-of-living city. Someday we’ll be able to shower each other with gifts.” He kissed her again, then brought their empty breakfast dishes to the sink. “But until then I’ll be perfectly content knowing I’ve got an amazing wife who loves me and keeps me well stocked in cologne.”
    He left to shower and dress, leaving Amelia feeling wretched. How lucky was she, to be married to someone who was so kind and sweet and caring? What kind of fool was she to cause such a fuss over this