by L. M. Carr
“Tell them to go back to sleep.” He slides his hand down over my belly to the bare skin that is begging for his touch.
A soft knock and the twist of the door knob send panic through me. I pull the comforter up, covering our nakedness. “Pretend you’re asleep,” he whispers.
“Daddy? Mia?” anxious little voices ask. I slowly open one eye and then the other. “Good morning! Merry Christmas!” I smile, whispering so they know their dad is still asleep.
I would love to just lie in bed a little longer since I didn’t sleep well last night; my mind was filled with thoughts of my father and Lily that kept me awake, preventing me from getting the sleep I desperately needed.
“Give me a minute and we’ll go downstairs,” I suggest, prompting them to retreat back into the hall so I can get dressed quickly. “Let’s go, Sleepyhead. Your children will not wait any longer.”
“Bah hum bug.” He growls, pulling the pillow over his head.
***
COLORFUL WRAPPING PAPER and shiny bows are strewn all over the floor in the family room as the kids delight in opening their mountain of gifts. Even Santa in Florida sent a box of presents for them. Brady has a few gifts to open, which I think is really thoughtful. Following the Christmas morning tradition in my house from when I was kid, I bake a package of cinnamon rolls and let the sweet scent fill the house. Adam loves his gifts except for the one that I insist he must wait to open since it’s not exactly a rated PG gift. The idea of something naughty drives him crazy. I have a pile of gifts which include candles, perfume, and a new Coach bag, all from Adam and the kids, but my absolute favorite is the bracelet.
It’s delicate and lovely. The eight small circles that match the silver pendant of my necklace have a design etched on the front and numbers on the back. The first one I touch has what looks like a hieroglyphic of a mountain and the digits 817. Another has a coffee mug with 905. A third has a jack-o-lantern with the number 111. It takes me a few minutes to figure it all out. Tears flood my eyes when I realize the etchings and corresponding numbers tell the story of our journey together. Each one holds significance. August 17th, I met Adam for the first time at the summit. September 5th, I spilled coffee on my dress and Adam wiped it away, touching me intimately for the first time. November 1st, was the morning after Halloween when he told me that he loved me. I take my time, looking at each one remembering the occasion before noticing that the last few are blank. No etching. No numbers. Confusion mars my face.
“Mia, those represent what’s to come. I want to build a life with you.”
I look up from the bracelet to find him before me on bended knee. He’s holding a small black, velvet box. No fucking way! I don’t believe it! The lid is slowly flipped open, revealing its contents.
“Mia Marie Delaney, I have never met anyone like you. When you came into my life, I had no idea how much you would change it. I never imagined that I could love anyone this much. You are it for me. I want you today. I want you tomorrow. I want you forever. Would you do me the absolute honor of becoming my wife? Will you marry me?” The emotion I hear in his voice is the same that’s on his gorgeous face. This man loves me.
He gently lifts my left hand into his, holding an incredible diamond ring at my fingertip and waits for my answer. I feel my chin start to quiver; tears quickly fall to my face as I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him close. “Yes, yes, yes!” He pulls my left arm away from his neck and slides the ring into place and seals it with a kiss. I cry into his neck, drenching his white t-shirt. “I love you so much!” Never in my wildest dreams would I have believed that just a few months ago, I’d be here. That we would be here. I kiss along his neck, jaw and finally his lips. “You’ve made me so happy.”
“Baby, happiness doesn’t begin to cover what I feel. I feel alive. I can’t wait to marry you.” He pulls my face close by cupping my chin, allowing me to see his eyes.
I find that perfect spot in the crook of his neck and squeeze tightly. I have never been happier in my life.
He whispers for me to look up. Maddie and Luke stand by the tree with decorated poster boards, each one boasting a single word, giving me a command. “Marry Daddy!” Brady trots into the room, swishing his rear end from side to side, with a small sign hanging from his collar, equally decorated, that says, “Pretty please!
I lose it! My chest heaves with sobs, tears of utter joy and bliss stain my face and I call both kids to me, pulling them close to my heart so I can hug them all. This is my family. This is my home.
***
WE SPEND CHRISTMAS Day with Shelby and Mike at her parents’ house. The Warrens are like family. I’m nearly attacked and knocked down when Shelby and her mom come barreling in, demanding to see my ring. “Mia, it’s gorgeous! Holy shit, you’re gonna get carpel tunnel or something. How many carats is that thing?” She laughs as she appraises the ring that still feels strange on my finger. She’s right; it is gorgeous.
The brilliantly cut princess diamond sits atop a platinum band with two smaller, but equally exquisite diamonds, one of each side of the large stone. I smile when I remember what he told me in the shower after breakfast. The large diamond represents us while the smaller diamonds represent Madison and Luke, his children, and the children to come. I love how much he gets me; he knows how important children are to me.
After a long, but wonderful day with the Warrens, we make our way back home. I ask if we can quickly stop by the Longo’s to tell them the good news. Of course, Mrs. Longo, who is like a grandmother to me, asks if we’ve set a date. Good grief, we just got engaged this morning. Can’t a girl have some time to process it all? I assure her that she’ll be the first to know when we pick a date.
While we’re here, I run into my house to grab a few more things before I go back to his place for the rest of the holiday vacation. He doesn’t want us to be apart ever. His words, not mine, although I don’t mind. I want him forever and now he’s really mine.
I climb into the Escalade after tossing my bags in the trunk. We drive through the town; the snow that was pristine white across the town is now piled high on the side of the roads, all shades of brown. At the traffic light, Adam leans over to kiss my cheek, “What is my gorgeous fiancée thinking about?” Fiancée! I love the sound of that!
“I’m just thinking about how happy I am. That’s all.” My head tips back and rolls against the head rest. Just then, my phone rings and I have to dig it out of my new Coach bag. It’s Josh calling me back. They must’ve been in church earlier today when I tried to call them. He wishes me a Merry Christmas and is thrilled when I tell him about our engagement. “He’s a good man, Mia.”
My mother, who’s visiting Josh for a few weeks, screeches into the phone about how she can’t believe I’m engaged to a man whom she’s never even met. She would’ve met him at Thanksgiving if she didn’t cancel, opting to go the Dominican Republic with her friends. I roll my eyes to no one in particular because deep down, I know she’s right. Things with Adam really did happen rather quickly once I gave in.
Later that night, Adam calls his parents. He’s annoyed when he calls his mom only to receive her voicemail, telling him that she’s on a Mediterranean cruise for fifteen days. He shakes his head and mumbles, “Typical,” before he disconnects the call.
After congratulating Adam on our engagement and saying that he’d put a check in the mail for the kids’ Christmas gift, his father rushes off the phone because he said he was going to meet his girlfriend’s daughter and didn’t want to be late. When Adam ends the brief phone call, he just stands there for a moment. I feel so sorry for him. He looks like a little lost boy; the disappointment is clear on his face. When I ask him about it, his only response was, “Whatever. It’s nothing new.” I don’t think very highly of Adam’s parents. It’s Christmas after all. Shouldn’t his parents want to spend time talking with their only son?
I wrap my arms around him, pouring so much love into my embrace. “Sit,” I order, pushing him down gently on
the edge of the bed. I retrieve a rectangular shaped box from underneath my side of the bed and hand it to him. Immediately he grins, expunging any sign of his earlier disappointment.
“And what do we have here?” He gives the box a quick shake.
My teeth sink into my bottom lip in anticipation. Suddenly, I’m not feeling so confident. Taking a cue from my body language, he knows I’m nervous. I’m down right worried and slightly embarrassed. He slides his finger under the tape and with ease, using impeccable care, he unfolds the neatly tucked paper. His procrastination makes me smile.
“Just open the damn thing!” I attack him, sending him on his back while I straddle his hips. I take the package out of his hands. “I’ll make you wait until New Years to use it if you don’t hurry up.”
“Why Miss Delaney soon to be Mrs. Lawson . . . you’re so impatient.” His eyes sparkle with delight. I know he’s enjoying this little game of torture.
In an instant, I’m flipped over onto my back and he’s now sitting above me. Slowly, he continues to remove the shiny paper that covers the box as he watches me squirm beneath him.
When the content is finally revealed, he is completely shocked, turning the package over before casting his eyes on me pensively. His deep voice drops, “Oh my . . . you are a naughty thing.”
I smile, batting my eyelashes innocently. “It’s your fault. I was a good girl until you corrupted me.”
He tosses his gift to the foot of the bed and lowers himself over me. “You’re damn straight and I’m about to corrupt you even more right now.”
***
THE NEXT DAY the kids and I make a lunch of BLTs and wait for the arrival of Pete who called and asked if he could stop by after work because Santa left some presents for the kids at his place. Luke and Maddie wait with anticipation by the back door for Peter Pan to make his way over to them after giving me a quick kiss and a brief nod to Adam. We both know he’s being a big fat baby about my engagement. He’s mad because, unlike Shelby, he had not known it was going to happen. I can tell he’s fighting the temptation to grab my hand to get a good look at my ring; he’s dying to see if because he loves all things shiny and glittery. He really is such a cliché.
“For you.” He sighs and hands me a rectangular shaped gift wrapped in a brown grocery bag just like Adam’s. I make a point to take the gift with my left hand. The kids’ presents, with lots of silver and gold, look like they were wrapped by a professional at Nordstrom’s. My eyes widen and I squeal with delight when I unwrap the last book of my favorite author’s trilogy. Adam laughs but quickly hides Pete’s attempt at a gag gift, a box of Atlas True Fit condoms especially designed for small men. “Nah, I’m good, Pete. You keep them.” I’m so embarrassed at my best friend’s sense of humor. Adam doesn’t address him as “Peter” and Pete hates that. What is it with gay men being so proper? I’m sure he’s already plotting his revenge. The game night we hosted a few weeks ago ended with a comical caveman contest between the two of them about who has the best abs and then it was who had the best pick up lines to get laid. That earned Adam a raised eyebrow and my squinty evil eye. Needless to say, he went to bed with blue balls that night. I dared him to try each pick up line with me. No matter what he said, no matter how hard he tried, he wasn’t getting anything. Nada. Zilch. Zero. That was for damn sure.
About an hour after Pete leaves, my phone chirps and I read a text from him telling me that I’m forgiven and that my ring is absolutely gorgeous. I literally laugh out loud when his next text reminds me that he doesn’t look good in taffeta or silk. God, I love him!
Adam takes the kids and goes downstairs to the playroom to set up the new DVD player that Santa brought; apparently he heard their old one didn’t work too well anymore. I curl up on the couch, nice and comfy, hoping to start my new book when the door bell rings. I exhale loudly. Can’t a girl have five minutes to herself? As I walk to the door I wonder who it could be because no one ever uses the front door; it’s almost like it’s just there for show. Most people come to the back door or through the garage. The oval frosted glass tells me someone is there, but I can’t make out the face. Faces, actually. I see two people of varied heights standing there.
Just when I unlock the deadbolt, I realize that I should let Adam know. This is his house after all. I pull the heavy door open just a few inches to prevent too much cold air from rushing into the foyer.
Gina’s expression morphs from anticipation to shock as she looks at me. She stands there at the threshold of the door, dressed comfortably in a black leather jacket and snug jeans. Her gaze drops from my face to my hand that still has a hold on the door. I watch as she blinks several times. There’s no question; I know she has spotted my ring. “Gina.” I look down at Dylan’s daughter and smile, “Hi, Sophie.”
“Uh . . . is Adam home?” I should lie and tell her no, but then again I’d look like an idiot if he happened to walk in.
“Yeah, he’s downstairs. Let me get him.” I close the door in her face and immediately realize how bad that was. It’s freezing out and poor Sophie doesn’t deserve that. I reopen the door, “Why don’t you wait in here?” I can’t believe she has the nerve to show up here after the way she spoke to Madison at the restaurant. I never did get the chance to tell Adam about that.
“Thanks,” she mumbles as she steps in. A blast of Arctic air swooshes in, causing the flame in my candle to blow out. I rub my hands together quickly and breathe hot air on them before crossing my arms over my chest to protect myself from the assault of the frigid temperatures. Her eyes are on my ring again. This is so awkward because I don’t want to yell for Adam and I certainly don’t trust her enough to leave her alone in his house.
“You’re engaged?” Her blonde head nods suggestively to my left hand.
“We are.”
“Oh. I thought . . .” Her words fade as the sound of Adam running up the stairs, two at a time, interrupts her. His brown eyes are wide with panic when he encounters us standing in the foyer. “Mia. You okay?” He takes my hand in his and then turns to face Gina.
“What do you want, Gina?” I’ve never seen him be so curt with her except for the time she threw herself at him, begging for a chance to be with him.
She goes on the defense, “Well, Merry freaking Christmas to you, too.”
“I’m only going to ask you one more time. What do you want?” You! You damn fool! I want to smack him upside the head and tell him what we already know.
“You wouldn’t take my calls and Sophie . . .”
“And Sophie what?” Adam asks in an impatient tone.
“Sophie has something for Madison. And something for Luke, too.” My eyes dart to Sophie who is standing behind her mother. In her free hand, she carries a large holiday gift bag. Dressed in a long, ivory wool coat with black patent leathers that match the buttons on her coat, she looks like a picture perfect All-American, happy child, but those green eyes tell a whole different story. She is one very sad little girl.
“Please, come in.” I jump in and try to diffuse the tense standoff. Clearly Adam doesn’t want her here, but you can’t be mean to her kid. Adam steps back to let her pass by and shoots me an annoyed look. I purse my lips and shoot him a look that says, “Hey, it’s not my fault you were friends with her!”
He steps back, walks to the doorway which leads downstairs and calls his children by name, telling them that they’re needed for five minutes. I think that’s his way of telling Gina that her time at his house is very limited. Five minutes limited.
My eyes dance around the great room, looking anywhere except at Gina, but I can feel the weight of her stare. The words that come out of my mouth next are said by an imposter. I feel my mouth open and ask how her father is feeling. Her blue eyes open wide; I think I’ve shocked her with my question.
“He’s fine; he’ll survive.” Her answer is void of emotion which surprises me. She used to be her father’s pride and joy. Like me, she was a Daddy’s girl.
I turn my at
tention to Sophie, wondering what’s taking the kids so long to come up. “Did you have a nice Christmas? Did Santa come to your house?” I smile genuinely at her.
Instead of responding with her words, she simply nods.
“You have five minutes. I mean it.” Adam warns Gina as he reenters the room with Luke and Maddie.
We give the kids a few minutes together. From where I’m standing I can see Maddie bend down and crawl beneath the tall tree to retrieve a gift for Sophie. Watching them together reminds me, for an extremely brief moment, of being that age with Gina. I loved Christmas at the DeGennaro house; it was my second home.
“Have you talked to my brother?” Gina asks, looking directly at Adam.
“No, I haven’t.” I notice he doesn’t bother to ask why she’s asking. My guess is that he probably already knows the answer.
“No one has seen him for a few days. He didn’t show up or even call for Christmas.”
Adam’s expression remains nonchalant, bored even. He must know that Chris hasn’t been around and neither have his friends.
“I’m worried about him.”
Silence.
“Can you try to call him? You’re his friend.”
“No, Gina. I’m not. We were business associates.” I wonder if she catches his use of the past tense.
Sophie bounces into the room with Maddie, each girl wearing a “Best Friend” bracelet. In her hand, she carries the Elsa doll that Madison picked out for her. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much happiness exude from this little thing. Something makes me think Sophie misses and needs her friend. I think all the adults in the room notice it as well.
