by JA Huss
The mansion comes to life after the show, even though it is almost midnight. There are dozens of cookies to be decorated before bed. There’s hot chocolate, and hot cider to be consumed. There’s the customary Christmas Eve gift to be handed out.
It’s always been like this. It’s like we never want this day to end. And if we could pack even more stuff into it, make it last longer, make it last forever, we would.
Rook and I stay just long enough to get everyone settled, and then I take her hand and lead her upstairs. I catch a wink from Ronnie that says, We’ve got your back, and then the noise from below recedes.
“We could’ve waited,” Rook says breathlessly as I close our bedroom door and twist the lock.
“No,” I say back. “We’ve got hours of things to do, and Mrs. Flynn, I’d die if I didn’t have a moment alone with you right this second. I just want to say, I’m sorry I’ve been working so much.”
“Ronin,” she starts.
But I put a finger to her lips to keep her quiet. “Shh,” I whisper, my hands sliding underneath her shirt and up her back.
She buckles away from me, squealing, “They’re cold!”
“They won’t be cold for long,” I say, biting her lip and giving her a kiss. “Now what sort of surprise did you have in mind?”
“One second,” she says, holding up a finger. She turns and goes over to the refrigerator we keep for adult drinks. Her dress is red tonight. Rook always wears something red on Christmas Eve. Sometimes it’s just a scarf, sometimes it’s her coat, sometimes it’s a ribbon in her hair. But this Christmas Eve, it’s a dress. A very fucking sexy dress.
That she starts to take off. She slides the straps slowly down her arms and I untuck my white dress shirt and start unbuttoning it from the bottom up.
She grins at me, a small squeak of delight escaping her lips as she shimmies her dress over her hips and stands there in her black bra and panties.
I grin back as I take my shirt off and go for my belt buckle.
Her eyes never leave my fingers as I tug the zipper down and step out of my pants.
We stand there in our underwear for a few moments before we take that off too.
We stand there naked, looking each other up and down, appreciating each other the way we always do on Christmas Eve, and then Rook gets the bottle of champagne from the mini fridge and grabs two glasses from the side table. Her walk towards the terrace is seductive as fuck.
“What?” I laugh.
“Remember when you took me to the zoo for that charity event?”
I can’t help but smile. “We’d just met and Antoine and Elise gave us their tickets so we could have a date together.”
“That was the best night of my life, Mr. Flynn. Well, up to that point. But every night since then has been the best night of my life. Every night I climb into bed I think, How did I get so lucky?”
“It’s not luck, Rook. It’s love.”
“I know. Humor me,” she says, popping the cork on the champagne and pouring it into the glasses. “Every morning when I wake up I think, God, I can’t wait to get back in bed with him tonight. I just can’t wait. It’s the very best part of every single day since we met. Even after fifteen years, I still think that, Ronin.” She grabs two coats off one of the chairs next to the door and hands me mine. “Don’t ask, just put it on.”
We slip them on at the same time, our eyes glued to each other. I want to kiss her so bad, but she’s got a hand on my chest as she holds out a glass of champagne for me to take.
I take it. Reluctantly. I just want to take her. Every part of her.
She holds her own glass of champagne in one hand, then takes my free one in her other and pulls me over to our balcony. She opens the door and the softly falling snow comes in as we go out.
She closes the door behind us and then we’re in the dark. Only the lights from Vail Village leak up to our little piece of the mountain to illuminate us.
“That very first Christmas we spent together. Do you remember that present Ford gave me after church?”
“Eric Cartman.” I laugh.
“Yeah,” Rook says, like she’s remembering it fondly. “Well, I was talking on the phone to Ford to say thank you, and I was telling him that story about what I was doing on Christmas Eve the year before. And I told him I was wishing on a star to make my life change. Just anything, you know. I just needed to leave that bad situation and start fresh.”
“Yeah,” I say, thinking back to that first year we were together. It was tough. We all had a past that was catching up with us.
“Well, every Christmas Eve since then I go out into the night after everyone is asleep and I wish on my star again. Only instead of begging for a change, I beg for more of the same.”
God, I love her.
“I don’t ask for perfection, Ronin. I don’t ask for more money or a bigger house. I don’t ask for pretty things or gifts. I don’t ask for anything but more of the same. Because every moment with you is perfect, even when it’s not.”
I open my mouth to talk, but she shushes me again. “I don’t want you to apologize for providing for us, Ronin. I don’t want you to feel like you’ve missed things. I don’t want you to be anything or anyone but who and what you are. Because you’re perfectly imperfect and I don’t need perfection. I just need more of the same.” And then she raises her glass and says, “Cheers to us, Ronin. We made it. We started this life with everything against us, but we made it.”
“Cheers to us,” I say back, gazing into those blue eyes that electrified me so long ago. “I wouldn’t change a minute, Gidget. So cheers to us.”
“And I love,” she says, just before she’s about to take a drink, “that you let me call you Larue, even though everyone knows you wanted to be Gidget.”
Yes, I think as I laugh. I might not be perfection, but she certainly is.
She’s certainly perfect for me.
“I have a present for you, Larue.” She hands me her glass of champagne and walks over to the hot tub and flips the lid over, then eases it all the way off. The steam rises up in waves and swirls as it mingles with the cold mountain air.
“Get in,” she says, walking back over to me and taking both glasses from me. I take off my coat, drape it over a chair, and then get in, hissing as the hot water comes in contact with my skin. She hands me back both glasses and then walks over to the little black case and produces a portable projection machine. She inserts a flash drive and smiles at me over her shoulder.
“What are you up to?” I laugh.
“You’ll see,” she says, finishing up and walking back to me. She slips her coat off, piles it on top of mine, and then eases down into the water next to me, taking her glass back. She’s got a small remote control in her hand that she clicks, and then the side of the house comes to life with a movie.
“What did you do?”
“I made us a movie.” She laughs. “I don’t make many these days, but I got an idea last Christmas. I knew then that the kids were growing up too fast, so I spent all year putting this together. And maybe we don’t have all our special moments in here, but we’ve got enough, Ronin.”
The film starts and it’s the movie I made the day Sparrow was born. Ford and Spencer are there. Ashleigh and Veronica. Five is still small in Ashleigh’s arms, and Kate is clinging to Ford. Spencer is holding a Cinderella version of Rory, and Veronica is leaning over Rook, cooing down at Sparrow.
“That’s when it became real, you know?” Rook is looking at me with wide blue eyes. “Our wedding was the start, but Sparrow was when it became real.”
I totally get it. “Yeah,” I say back softly. “She made us real.”
“And every day after that just got better and better, Ronin. So I put it all together into a movie for us. So no matter how fast they grow, we’ll always have this to remind us of what it was like in the beginning.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Ford,” Spencer calls across the great room. We put all the kid
s except Cindy to bed an hour ago, but Spencer had exactly seventeen toys that need assembly. Somehow he got the impression that I am part of his production line.
“No,” I deadpan back at him. Five was never into toys that needed to be put together. He liked musical things. Puzzles and computer games. And Kate, well, she did like that stuff, but she grew out of dollhouses by the time she was eight. After that it was all horses all the time. She got a new horse last year. Charlie. And she’s not ready to upgrade. So this year she’s getting gear from that equestrian catalog the girls will be modeling for. “I already put together the Tiny Town Garage, the Tiny Town Hair Salon, and the Tiny Town Pet Groomer. I’m on strike.”
“We’re done, dude. I was just going to ask if you guys could watch Cindy for a few hours.”
“It’s two AM. What kind of child needs watching—”
“Yes,” Ashleigh says, already on her feet, reaching for Cindy. “We’d love to. Go see what Veronica’s doing.”
“Thanks, man,” Spencer says to me, like I’m the one doing him a baby favor.
Rook and Ronin are already in bed, so now it’s just me, Ashleigh, and the third wheel. “Well,” I say, taking a sip of Scotch as I glance at Cinderella. What kind of name is that? I don’t even bother. Spencer took his pack of princesses way too seriously. “I feel like I haven’t seen you all day, Ash. I missed you.”
She smiles at me. No, wait. She’s smiling at Cindy.
I forgot. She wants another one.
“Ford,” she says in her serious tone that means she’s got something on her mind. “I think—”
“Wait,” I say, stopping her mid-sentence. “I know what you’re going to say. I’ve seen the signals.”
“You have?”
“Yes. You’re sad that the kids are growing up and you want another one. I get it, Ash. And I know why you haven’t made a big deal about it all these years. I appreciate that, you know.”
“Yeah, but Ford—”
I put another hand up. “Ashleigh, wait. I’m just saying that I sorta agree.”
“You do?” Her eyes go wide.
“Yeah. Kate, man.” I have to laugh. I told Ashleigh what she did on the slopes today. We are alike in that respect. We get a kick out of all the strange stuff our children do. Most parents would be upset about their fifteen-year-old practically kidnapping a princess and taking her all over Colorado. And we gave him a stern talking-to about that when he got home. The whole united front thing. He’s in charge of shoveling the driveway tomorrow morning before we leave to go to my mother’s.
But secretly we love how innovative he is. And Kate. She lights up my life. I don’t know how all these years got away from me. I don’t understand how she went from footied sleepers to selling ski lessons to buy a car. It doesn’t make sense.
“I’m with you, Ashleigh. If you want a baby, I’m ready to make another one.”
She laughs.
“What?”
“Who says that? Make another one?”
“What? That’s how it happens.”
“OK, never mind,” she says, still shaking her head. Cindy is half asleep, but fighting it hard. Her teething seems to be under control, but now her schedule is all off. “But that’s not what I was going to say.”
“What? I thought you had empty-nest syndrome? I thought you were craving another baby? I thought you missed all the spit-up, the dirty diapers, and the constant neediness?”
“Well, that’s all sorta true.”
“Then why have you been acting weird?”
She shoots me a sly grin. “I can’t believe you haven’t noticed.”
“Noticed what?” I ask, taking another sip of my drink.
“My candy pussy.”
And my fifty-year-old Scotch goes shooting out my mouth. “What did you just say, Miss Li? I might owe you a spanking for that remark.”
She laughs hard. Hard enough to wake up Cindy from her almost-slumber. Cindy quickly gets a cuddle to soothe her back to sleep.
Once that crisis is averted, I get another giggle. “I’m pregnant, Ford. I took the test last week and I didn’t know how to tell you, so I’ve been trying to keep it a secret until tonight. And holy shit, you are so off your game. I can’t believe you ate me out last night and didn’t even notice.”
Fuck. When was the last time Ashleigh and I had a conversation about candy pussy? Back when she was pregnant with Five, I guess. We have sex six times a week, at least. And at least two of those are of the naughty variety. But holy shit, she knows exactly what to say to spice things up. She’s always known exactly what to say. It’s so easy for her to make me happy. “Mrs. Aston, you are my soulmate. I love the fact that you remember how much I love your candy pussy. And…”
And… this is the part she’s been waiting for. The part where I react to her news. Considering that I’ve been against the idea for fifteen years, I’m not surprised she was acting strange all week. “And I know it’s my fault we don’t have more, but now really is the perfect time.”
I get up and walk over to her. She’s sitting on the floor in front of the tree, cradling Cindy in her arms. So I sit down next to her and take the baby. Trying it on for size again.
Cindy squirms, but I place her up close to my chest the way I used to hold Kate. The way I used to hold Five. And she rests her heavy head on my shoulder.
“Yes,” I say. “I’d like another Kate. I’m not ready to grow up yet.”
“Good,” Ashleigh says, her eyes bright with mischief. “Because we’re having twins.”
Chapter Sixteen
I walk upstairs, my mind on the Bomb and what’s about to happen, when my eyes wander to the thin slice of light leaking from under the door to the attic stairs.
Five, I say in my head. I was so mad at him. I was almost ready to overstep my bounds in the library a few hours ago.
But my princess. I sigh. Whatever it is they feel for each other, it feels real to them. My thoughts wander back to when I first fell in love. God, I did some stupid things. It feels like it was yesterday when I snuck into that apartment James sent Ronnie to after her old one was… declared uninhabitable. I probably owe James a drink for that, now that I think about it fifteen years later.
But everything when you’re young is so immediate. And when you’re a teenager, it’s so much more immediate.
I knock on the door to the attic and open it up before anyone answers. The boys might’ve fallen asleep with the light on, but somehow, I don’t think so.
When I climb the last step and peek around the wall, I’m right. Oliver is asleep. He’s snoring with an R2D2 blanket all wrapped around his legs.
But Five is awake.
As soon as he realizes it’s me he takes a deep breath. Like he’s steadying himself. “I’m sorry, Mr. Shrike,” he says. “You have every right to be angry with me.”
The Mr. Shrike typically comes off condescending when Five says it. But not this time. And this kid, he’s never been afraid of me. I’m sure he’s much more afraid of Ronnie’s brother Vic than he is me. But this time it comes off as… sincere.
“I was talking to Rory earlier.”
He swallows.
“And she said she had a real nice time with you today. Except for one part.”
His eyebrows shoot up. This time, it’s in surprise. “She didn’t care for something we did today?” I shake my head and let out a long breath. Five’s face falls, like he’s a complete failure. “Did she say which part?”
He sounds defeated. Like he did his best and it wasn’t good enough. “She did,” I say back.
“Do you mind telling me what it was? Just so…” He stops and looks out the window, like he’s imagining another day in his mind. A day where he gets it all right. “So I know how to make her happy if I ever get a next time?”
“She said she didn’t get a kiss goodnight.”
His smile starts small, but it grows so big in the span of a few moments, he has to turn his head to hide it.
> “She said she’s sad, Five.”
He turns back to me, his smile gone now.
“She thinks you’re going to forget about her.”
“I won’t,” he insists.
I nod, agreeing with him. But my Baby Bomb is smarter than the rest of us. Because he will. She’s right, he will. It can’t be helped. “Sometime,” I say, thinking about Ronnie earlier in the day and the present that Rory brought home tonight, “sometimes there is only one thing that can make a person feel better. One person. Love does that to you. And right now, the only thing that will make her believe that you will be back is a kiss. So you have my permission.”
He stares at me with his mouth open. In fact, we stare at each other for several seconds in silence.
“Did you hear me?”
He nods.
“But I have conditions, Aston. Don’t—”
“I won’t,” he interjects.
“—hurt her,” I finish. “And keep your hands—”
“I promise,” he says, standing up so he can look me in the eye.
“—above the shoulders.”
“I promise, Spencer. I’ll do it right.”
I nod at him, and then turn to go back down the attic stairs. But then I realize what I really want to say and stop one more time. “Just make her happy, Five. That’s all I want. Just make her happy.”
I walk back down after that, feeling like this is the end of something. Or at the very least, the beginning of the end. Princess Rory’s childhood, I guess. It’s the beginning of the end of her childhood.
How does it go by so fast?
That thought is still on my mind when I get to our bedroom door. The lights are on, but Ronnie’s not awake. She’s all curled up in a chair over by the bay windows, a red blanket wrapped around her body. The red blanket is good luck, I realize.
“Bombshell,” I whisper, leaning down into her ear. “Wake up.”
“Hmm?” she mumbles as I swoop her up in my arms. “What’s going on?”
