by Ellie Wade
“I mean, yeah. My garage is here and my work. It’s a big lot, and I love this house. Is there something wrong with my house?” I chuckle.
“No. I love your house, but that’s my point. We’re going to be here for a while, so we need to make memories here. We won’t always have two houses. My house is just a house, but yours is a home. So our experiences should be happening here.”
“Alright. I get that. Then we’ll decorate. We’ll go to the store and get everything we need to make a Christmas wonderland in here, and we’ll hit up the tree farm on our way home.”
“That sounds perfect,” she says, kissing the skin above my heart. “Wait, you don’t have any decorations? Have you never decorated?”
“Nope. This will be a first.”
“You’re almost forty, and you’ve never had your own Christmas tree?” She leans back and looks at me.
“I’m still thirty-eight for a couple of months. Don’t rush me, and no, I never have.”
“That’s really sad,” she says.
“Well, maybe I was waiting for you.”
She grins and shakes her head. “A lie, but I’ll take it. You know we’re going to have a lot of firsts together. Does that scare you?”
“Nope. Not a bit.”
“Someday soon, I’ll sell my house and move in with you. Does that scare you?”
“Nope.”
“Then we’ll get married. Scared yet?”
“Nope.”
“Then we’ll have kids. Terrified?”
“Not even a little.”
“There will be days when I’m PMSing, and the kids are running around hitting each other with bats and spilling things and screaming, and the dogs are shitting on the floor. That doesn’t scare you a little?”
“No…though, I do question why our kids have access to bats if they’re using them as weapons. Maybe we should hold off on buying them bats until they’re old enough.”
“Okay, we can hold off on bat buying, but seriously, nothing I just said scares you just a little?”
I shake my head. “No. I told you. I’m in. A hundred percent. I want everything you just mentioned. I want you with me under the same roof. I want to be your husband. I want you to have our babies. I want the crying kids and the PMSing wife. Hell, I’ll even take the dog shit if you’re there with me. I want a life, and I want it with you.”
Quinn grins wide. “You say the sweetest things.”
“They’re true. Every word. I love you, Quinn.”
“I love you, too, and I’ll never tire of hearing those words from you.”
“I’ll never tire of saying them.”
I wrap my arms around Quinn and run my fingers up and down the skin of her back. I’ve never been happier in my whole life than I am at this moment because I was completely honest. Nothing Quinn said made my heart beat faster with anxiety. I want it all. With her, I want it all.
“I do have a question,” I say.
“Yeah?”
“Why were your younger sisters staring at me all night?”
Quinn giggles. “Because you’re hot.”
“What?” I scoff.
“I don’t know. When they found out I was dating a former addict eleven years my senior, I think they pictured some old man troll or something. They had a lot of reservations about us, and I kept telling them not to pass judgment until they met you. Last night when they finally met you, I don’t think the vision they had of you and the real you meshed well. They were in awe.”
“That’s…interesting and a little weird,” I admit.
“A lot weird.” Quinn laughs. “But that’s them. I told them you were gorgeous. It’s their fault they didn’t believe me.”
“What did the rest of your family think?”
“They loved you. How could they not? You’re easy to love.”
“So are you.”
I kiss the top of her head, so grateful that I’m finally where I'm supposed to be. I’m not sure why it took me so long to get here. I guess it happened in its own time, when it was right.
Everything about us is right. And when it comes to Quinn, I have no doubts.
Only love.
Chapter 32
Quinn
We’re in my living room the day before Christmas Eve, waiting for Clementine to arrive. Ollie and I have a jam-packed holiday season, and I love it. We’re spending Christmas Eve with my family tomorrow and then having an early Christmas dinner with his parents. After dinner with his parents, we’ll come back to Ann Arbor, where I’ll pop in to see all my friends and drop off presents. I love the holiday. The busier, the better…bring on the merriment.
Clementine left rehab yesterday. Today is the first time we’re going to be seeing her.
“I’m nervous,” Ollie says.
“Don’t be. It will be fine,” I reassure him.
I grab a tray of sugar cookies from the kitchen and place it on the table in the living room. Ollie sneaks a peek out my front window when he doesn’t think I’m looking. The way he cares so deeply about everyone is adorable.
“She’s here,” he says.
Walking over to him, I lean up on my tiptoes and give him a kiss. “It’s going to be good.”
He simply nods.
I open the door to a waiting Clementine.
“Merry Christmas!” I say, pulling her into a hug.
“Merry Christmas to you,” she says. “Glad to see you back.” She shoots Ollie a knowing look. “I told Ollie that you’d better be back in the picture by the time I got home.”
“That’s our dark period, and we don’t talk about it,” I tease. “Let’s pretend I’ve always been in the picture, shall we? Come in.”
She hugs Ollie.
“You look good. You feel good?”
“I feel great.”
Ollie’s entire body visibly relaxes.
I take the gift bags Clementine is holding and put them beneath the tree.
“Why are we meeting here? I wanted to see Saki,” Clementine asks, disappointment lines her features.
“It’s just better,” Ollie says.
Clem wears a confused expression. “But it’s not. No offense Quinn. Your house is nice and all, but Saki’s not here.”
I look at Ollie. “Maybe we should do presents before dinner.”
He nods in agreement.
Clementine claps her hands together. “Ooh, I love presents.”
“Take a seat and close your eyes. Your present isn’t wrapped,” he tells her.
“Okay!” She sits on my sofa, and Ollie disappears into my guest bedroom.
“Are your eyes closed?” he calls out.
“Yep!”
He sets Clementine’s present on her lap, and she gasps, immediately opening her eyes.
“What?” she cries, tears already rolling down her cheeks. “Oh my gosh.” She holds the plump old cat against her chest and buries her face into his gray fur.
The elderly feline is already purring loudly, and it makes my heart happy. I feel like he remembers Clementine. Ollie turns to me, his face so content. The joy in the room is all-encompassing, and I simply breathe it in. There are not enough moments in life when everything is this good.
“I don’t understand,” Clementine says softly, still holding the cat against her chest.
“Well, it was Quinn’s idea,” Ollie smiles at me. “He’s kind of your welcome home, slash, Christmas present. He can live here until you move out of the dorms next year and get a pet-friendly apartment.”
“And since I’m always at Ollie’s, you can stay here whenever you want,” I add.
“Really? You’d do that for me?” Clem asks.
“Of course! The house is here and empty most of the time. There’s no reason the both of you can’t stay here as long as you need. I’m just so happy that he was still at the shelter when we went back there yesterday.” I grin.
“Yeah, Quinn came up with the idea, then we were totally worried that we’d go back and he’d
be adopted,” Ollie says.
Clem shakes her head. “No, I told you. He would’ve died in that shelter. No one adopts the old ones.”
“Maybe he was just waiting for you,” I say.
Clementine smiles brighter at the sentiment and nods her head. “I think so.”
“Plus, we have everything you need. Food and water dishes, food, toys, a bed, a litter box, and one of those big cat tower things. It’s all in the guest bedroom.” I reach down and pet the top of the cat’s head. He purrs louder and leans into my touch.
“This is the best gift anyone has ever given me. Thank you so much, Quinn. Thank you, Ollie. I don’t know how to thank you enough.”
“Just be happy. That’s all I want for you,” Ollie tells her.
We watch Clementine play with her new cat for a few minutes. It’s awesome. Giving someone a perfect gift is one of the best feelings there is.
“Are you guys ready to eat?” I ask.
“Sure.” Clementine places the cat on the floor. He stretches out and licks his paw like he owns the place, already completely comfortable in his new surroundings. “What’s for dinner?”
I hold my hands together against my chest, excited. “Well…” I quirk a brow. “We’re having chili dogs, curly fries, and root beer floats.”
Clem throws her head back in laughter. “No way! That’s awesome.”
I shrug. “I’m sure it won’t be as great as your favorite A & W, but it will be good.”
“You guys thought of everything,” Clem says.
“Once again, Quinn’s idea,” Ollie adds.
“See? That’s why I told you to get her back.” Clem jumps from the sofa and follows me into the kitchen.
We fill our plates with food and sit at the table.
“Did you meet any cool people at the place?” I ask, not sure what to call it. Rehab? Center? I don’t know what holds a negative connotation or not, so I settle on the place.
The hot dog in Clementine’s grasp is overflowing with chili. It’s running down her hand and dripping onto her plate. “Yeah, there were definitely a lot of cool people who I consider friends, but I don’t see myself staying in touch with them. It makes me nervous, you know? Having friends who are addicts. Not everyone is as serious about sobriety as me, and I’m afraid of hanging out with one of my new friends in the real world, having them slip, and bringing me down with them. So I think they were just meant to be my friends while I was there. But now? I want to make friends who don’t have my same vices.”
“I get that,” Ollie says. “It’s scary making relationships with people who could impact your life in a negative way, but at the same time, it’s nice to have someone in your corner who knows what you’re going through and can support you.”
“That’s why I have you.” She grins to him, mouth full of fries.
“Alright. I’m just saying if you were really close with someone who was serious about staying clean. Some friendships are worth the risk.” Ollie dips a french fry in ketchup and pops it in his mouth.
Clem shakes her head, twirling her straw in the cup of root beer and ice cream. “Nope. They were nice to have in that setting, but I want a clean start. I don’t want to be reminded of the way I felt when I first went in there.”
“Okay. Makes sense,” Ollie agrees.
“So what have I missed since I’ve been gone?” she asks.
“Not much. The first month was pretty depressing, and then we got back together, and it’s been unicorns and rainbows since.” I grin.
“Good. That makes me happy. Are you doing the whole family thing for the holidays?” she asks.
“Yeah. Ollie met my family a couple of weeks ago at my birthday party, but we’re going to spend the day with them tomorrow. Then I’m meeting his parents on Christmas.”
“Things are getting serious. I like it.” Clem bobs from side to side in her chair. “It’s been a long time coming. I never thought this one would settle down.” She hitches her thumb toward Ollie.
“You’ve known me for like a year.” Ollie scoffs and shakes his head, a grin on his face.
“Well, for me…that year felt like an eternity,” Clementine says. “You know, I’m actually looking forward to seeing this new Sharon now that she’s getting some. I still can’t picture it.”
“Ooh, who’s Sharon?” I ask.
“This total downer in our meetings. She complains more than anyone I know, but Ollie told me that she’s getting laid regularly now and is like this whole new person.”
“You know, the meetings have the word anonymous in them for a reason,” Ollie teases.
Clem rolls her eyes. “Fine, we’ll call her…Beth…no, Nancy since she’s a negative Nancy. So anyway…Nancy is one of those people…”
Clementine fills me in on the best Sharon/Nancy stories, and we laugh until our sides ache. She also has some musings about a Marty, who we’re calling Brad, that are equally as hilarious.
She’s different, Clementine. It’s visible. It’s as if a weight has been lifted off her shoulders. There was always a barrier between us, and I never thought it was a personal thing but more of a sadness that Clementine had to communicate through. All that is gone. She’s almost a different person or at least a much happier version of herself.
I’m so relieved. I know there will be others in our future who break Ollie’s heart, but I’m glad it’s not Clementine, at least not now. Ollie deserves a break.
“You never did tell us what you’re naming your cat,” I say.
“Oh.” Clem’s eyes light up, and she looks at Ollie. “I’m naming him Hale. Like the Kawasaki saved you and became Saki’s namesake. You saved me.”
Ollie presses his lips into a line and smiles at Clem.
Tears fill my eyes.
I swallow the lump of emotion in my throat. “It’s a perfect name.”
Simply perfect.
Chapter 33
Quinn
“Merry Christmas,” Ollie’s voice invades my sleepy haze, and his lips press against mine.
“Morning breath,” I grumble.
“I love your morning breath,” he says.
“That’s gross.” I turn my face, pressing it into the pillow as my body protests the act of waking up. Ollie and I got home late last night after spending Christmas Eve up in Mt. Pleasant with my family. It was a long day of family fun, the best kind of day—but exhausting nonetheless.
“Gross but true, and I have a special Christmas breakfast just for you…and apparently, a rhyme.” He releases a deep chuckle, laughing at himself.
I look up toward Ollie, my interest piqued. “A special breakfast?”
“Of course. Do you expect anything less?”
I eagerly sit up and scoot back against the bed frame. Good food is my kryptonite and is one of the few things that will get me out of bed at such an early hour. Ollie, wearing nothing but boxers, would definitely be one of those few things, and this morning, I have both.
He sets the wooden tray on my lap.
“This is a maple and pecan French toast bake that my mom made for us every Christmas morning. It’s tradition. She only made it the one day a year, so it was always so special.”
“I love that. I can’t wait to meet your mom today.” I take a bite of the sugary bread with glazed pecans and groan. “So good,” I say through a mouthful of food. I stab my fork into another piece. “I really need to step up my game as far as cooking. I know I haven’t done it much, but I swear, I’m a great cook.”
“I believe you.” He sits beside me with another tray and a bowl full of scrambled eggs.
As if on cue, Saki jumps onto the bed and starts purring like a little motorboat. Ollie sets the bowl of eggs on the bed for her. “Merry Christmas, beautiful,” he says to the cat, and it makes me smile.
He has such a kind heart. I love him so much. I lean my head to the side and rest it on his arm as I chew the delicious breakfast he’s made for me. We eat in silence for a few minutes.
; There’s something special about the happiest of moments that reside within the silence of life. For me, it’s how I know Ollie is the one. Just being together in this space brings me utter joy. No words, no actions…just us, together causes a calm that I’ve never felt to blanket me in warmth. I’d rather do nothing with Ollie than everything with someone else.
We finish eating, and I sip from a mug of warm coffee with peppermint creamer.
“Santa came, you know.” An excited mischief lines Ollie’s words.
“Santa? I love him!”
I hop from bed, carrying my tray of dishes to the kitchen. Ollie follows me to the living room, where the tree sparkles, emitting a magical glow around the room. I’ve always loved Christmas morning. When I’m ninety years old and need a walker to get to my Christmas tree, I’ll still find it all enchanting.
More presents are beneath the tree than were there last night. I circle my arms around Ollie and lean my face against his chest. The fact that he’s had presents hidden away just so he could put them under the tree after I fell asleep on Christmas Eve is the cutest thing I’ve seen. This—and all the equally sweet little gestures that Ollie does on a daily basis—is why I know he’s going to make a great husband and father someday.
“You are so sweet. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” He kisses the top of my head and holds me tighter.
We sit cross-legged on the rug in front of the tree and hand each other our gifts, starting with our stockings. I had no idea what to expect going into this holiday. Some guys aren’t good at gift giving. I’ve been in relationships where my partner made me give him a list because he didn’t have a single idea. To be a good gift giver, one really has to know their significant other well.
Ollie knows me. He listens when I talk. Proof lies in every single gift, from my favorites snacks to a sweater I saw another girl wearing at a restaurant the other day. I had mentioned I liked it.
I giggle, holding the gray sweater out. “Oh, my gosh. Are you serious? How’d you know where to get it?” It’s going to look amazing with a pair of skinny jeans and ankle boots.
He wears a look of contentment. “I asked the girl where she got it.”
