They walked along the sidewalk trailed by bright lampposts draped with Christmas lights shining brighter than the snow that covered them. People were coming in and out of stores, politely excusing themselves as they walked past. Under normal circumstances that would have been strange, especially in Philadelphia, but the holidays always seemed to make people a lot friendlier and far less rude. It was the one time of year when everyone was happy and focused on the same thing, going in the same stores for the same reasons.
Nestling herself beneath his arm, Sydney looked up at Mason. “So, what were the holidays like when you were younger?”
He paused for a moment, thinking back. “They were great, actually! My dad spoiled Jackson and I so we always got what we wanted, and a whole lot of what we didn’t,” he laughed.
“What about your stepfather, how was it with him?”
She knew it was a stretch to ask him that. Mason talked about his father a lot, but never much about his mother or his stepfather. His initial silence didn’t surprise her.
“It was fine,” he tensely deflected. “What about yours? I’m sure you always got everything you wanted.”
“I did,” she boasted. “I was the baby and I was daddy’s little girl, so anything I wanted he got for me, including the Punky Bruster doll that I still have,” she laughed.
She went on for a few minutes, talking a lot about her dad and what her family was like during the holidays. Mason hadn’t interrupted her once, and as she talked she started to take notice. He was paying far more attention to her story, this one in particular, than usual.
“What?” she asked. She had noticed a smile on his face appear in the middle of her reminiscing.
“I don’t know,” he hinted, “just thinking he’s going to be really happy when he sees you. That’s all.”
Something in the way he said it was very familiar to her. Over the last few months she had grown quite accustomed to Mason’s surprises, or lack thereof. Even though he thought he could keep a secret, he’d always give himself away and say something that made it much less of a surprise.
“To see me, what are you talking about?”
They had just made their way into one of the stores along the street. Sydney could tell he was trying to hold onto something so she stood there, watching him shake off the snow that had fallen on him. “What are you up to Mason?” she inquired.
“Me? Nothing,” he said.
“Really,” she said with folded arms. “I find that extremely hard to believe.” She nudged him playfully. “I know you are up to something. You wouldn’t have said it like that if you weren’t.”
“Like what?” He laughed, unbuttoning his coat.
She reminded him of what he’d said, mimicking his tone and even the look on his face as he tried to hold back what he really wanted to say.
Mason laughed. He unwrapped the scarf that warmed his neck and took off one glove at a time before reaching into his inside pocket and pulling out a dark blue envelope. At first she had no idea what it was, but as he moved to hand it to her, she made out the two words written in a bold white font. American Airlines.
She felt a surge of excitement rush to the tips of her fingers as bundled in her coat, scarf, hat, and gloves, she covered her face in complete shock. Although she figured there was a surprise in there somewhere, she hadn’t expected this. She hadn’t been home to see her parents or any of her family since she moved to the city over seven years ago, and being able to go back with him made it even more special. She buried her face in Mason’s chest and hugged him tighter than she ever had.
“Merry Christmas,” he whispered.
Chapter 17
Their ears met the sounds of seasonal music that played over the store speakers as they walked farther in. Sydney didn’t waste a second, adding gifts onto their list for her parents and nieces. It would be her first time seeing them since they’d been born. Mason was just happy to see her smile. Sydney stopped near in the women’s fragrances to find a perfume to buy for her mother. As she trailed around the counter looking at different bottles and different prices, an older woman behind the counter couldn’t help but notice the both of them, especially, the look in Mason’s eyes as he gazed upon her.
“How long have you been married?” Her soft and aged voice grabbed his attention.
“Oh no, we’re not married,” he responded courteously, turning towards her.
“Really?” she asked.
She smiled at Mason with a very peculiar look on her face. “You should look into that,” she graciously suggested, walking towards another customer.
Did she seriously just suggest that? People will say anything to make a sale, he thought to himself as he shook his head. Older people had an awfully funny way of saying things in ways that made you give more thought to them than you otherwise would have. As uncomfortable and out of place as the thought was, strangely enough it settled in his mind for a moment longer than he had expected. He cared for Sydney; there was no doubt about that. To love her, though, was a line he wasn’t going to cross, and marrying her was something that would never happen. He’d never let himself become that vulnerable. However, he did wonder.
He would be lying to himself to believe that every day he had spent with her over the past four months meant nothing. They clearly meant something. Something more than any woman he’d ever been with. Something more than everything he thought he’d never have. Perhaps something more, or rather something worth, the two-carat princess cut diamond he’d wandered over to. Might not be a bad idea. He thought back on what the lady behind the counter had said only a few moments ago and shook his head. “Leave it to Christmas for me to let my guard down,” he laughed.
They walked out of the store, back into the frigid winter weather. Neither of them cared to block the snowflakes that fell onto their faces. It was as though their smiles and smitten glances melted them at the touch. Sydney more so than Mason, of course; she was still on cloud nine from the surprise of getting to seeing her family.
As they walked back towards the car, she remembered one thing Mason had mentioned about his family and the holidays. Every year, he had spent them all with Jackson. Having not seen the departure date on the airline tickets, she assumed the trip would be more for New Years rather than Christmas, but her curiosity consumed her.
She leaned into Mason, lightly nudging him to the side as though the thought had just come to her. “So when do we leave?” she asked.
Without pause, he looked down at her, almost tripping over his own feet. “Tomorrow,” he answered, catching himself.
It was obvious by her smile; he’d said exactly what she had hoped to hear. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, which meant they would be at her parents’ house for Christmas. She looked up at him, walking beside him arm in arm. Her face was flushed not from the warmth of her scarf but from knowing she was actually falling in love with him. Despite his attempts to shield himself from appearing emotionally transparent, she saw right through him.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked.
From the time they’d gotten into the car and headed back she could tell something was on his mind. It was the look on his face. Not that it was bad, but she could see there was something he wanted to say, or maybe something he wanted to ask her.
He opened his mouth to answer but paused before he let a single word out. He glanced over at her with a smirk and quickly turned his eyes back to the road.
“Okay, you’re playing games now. What’s going on? You might as well tell me or ask me whatever it is; your little smirk is a dead giveaway.”
She turned back to the window with a smile on her face, just as he turned to look at her again. She caught his eye before he could fully turn away, and right before she spoke he finally did.
“Spend the night with me…” he suggested, hoping to not seem offensive.
Just as he had done a few moments ago, she fixed her mouth to answer but caught herself before a single word came out. She turned
back to the window, nervously adjusting herself in her seat. A hundred and twenty-five days had passed since their first date at the diner, and since then they’d spent a hundred and twenty-five days together, whether by night or day. They’d never spent a single night together, though, in her place or in his. She was taught better than that, and even now her upbringing still stuck. You don’t spend the night with a man at his house, especially one you’re dating, unless you expect something unless he expects something. She’d actually thought about it once before, but that’s as far as it went; a thought. But what if I say yes? she imagined. I mean, all he asked me to do was spend the night, and we are flying out tomorrow. What are you saying, Sydney? Don’t be naïve. You know better.
She looked back at Mason with a gaze of innocence. “Mason… I don’t…”
“ –I’m just asking you to spend the night, that’s all,” he softly insisted.
She couldn’t tell if him asking her to stay was a proposition for something more or not, but there was something in the sound of his voice that eased her nerves, and the notion of it, in fact, being a proposition. She didn’t want to take things any farther between them; however, a part of her felt that if something were to happen, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He turned a few corners and finally reached her home, still without an answer. They sat in front of her house silent for all of two minutes before she finally spoke.
Staring out of the passenger seat window, she said, “…I’ll need to pack first.”
She never looked back at him, but smiled getting out of the car and walking into the house. Aisha was in the living room watching a movie with a new friend when Sydney walked in and closed the door. She noticed the nervous excitement on Sydney’s face as she walked up the stairs, trying to be discrete. Curious, Aisha jumped up from the sofa where she was sitting with her male friend, whom she didn’t care to introduce, and ran up the stairs behind her to find out what was going on.
“Umm… are you going somewhere?!” she asked, noticing Sydney packing a bag for the first time in a very long while.
Sydney never looked up at her directly, but she couldn’t hide the smile on her face as she folded her clothes into the suitcase.
“We’re going to see my parents tomorrow.”
“Okay, and?” Aisha responded inquisitively, knowing she was holding something back.
“And… I’m staying with Mason tonight,” Sydney mumbled.
“WHAT!!!!” Aisha yelled out.
She started looking through the clothes Sydney had been packing in her overnight bag, along with a bag for the trip.
“You definitely can’t take these,” Aisha said, pointing to a pair of pajamas she had packed.
She walked over to Sydney’s dresser and took out the smallest and most revealing pair of panties she could find from her drawer, and a nearly see through top from her closet. She threw them into her bag.
“This is what you wear to bed, not those grandma pajamas.”
“Aisha, I’m not sleeping with him,” she insisted.
“Why not? You’ve been holding out for your Mr. Right Prince Charming…girl, you found him! I wish I could find a man like that instead of wasting my valuable time with old bobble head downstairs,” she laughed. “Like I said, this is what you wear to bed. And make sure he sees you getting in with it on. Do it slowly.”
Sydney couldn’t help but laugh at her, but in the end, she did take her advice. She left the grandma pajamas and packed the other items Aisha pulled from her drawer. Although it was a bit out of character for her, she considered doing what Aisha suggested, which she knew would ultimately lead to something she’d never done before. She walked down the stairs to the front door filled with a number of different emotions. All she was doing was staying the night, but she actually liked Mason. In fact, she loved him everything about him and that made her scared, nervous, and excited all at the same time. The look on her face was obvious. She had no idea what she was getting into, but she went with it nonetheless. She opened the door just as she began to reconsider her decision. As she did, though, there was Mason, leaning against the porch rail at the top of her front steps. He’d gotten out to help her with her bags. Handsome as ever, he was the perfect gentleman. As she thought about it, he’d changed a lot since they first met. He calmed down a bit, in a way settled a bit. He would say he was the same, but he wasn’t.
She watched through the visor mirror as he gently laid her suitcase and overnight bag in the trunk. Clenching and releasing her hands over and over again, she tried not to appear nervous when he got in the car. To her appeasement, he hadn’t noticed. He closed the door, started the car, and they were on their way. She only lived twenty minutes from him at most, depending on traffic, but every minute pressed her like unpassing hours. The radio was playing, but it was too low to make out any of the songs. Neither of them said more than a few random words to each other since they’d gotten back on the road. Her eyes pressed through the passenger door window starring out into the darkened sky that had finally taken a break from the snow. Mason could see that although she had agreed to stay, a part of her was terribly nervous.
“You know, I’m an excellent cook,” he said, breaking the awkward silence.
Sydney smiled, pulling her stare away from the window. “It took me spending the night with you for you to want to cook for me?” she joked.
“Um… no, I’m just...”
“You’re just full of surprises is what you are, aren’t you,” she laughed.
“I’m actually quite good,” he boasted.
“We’ll see.”
Chapter 18
They drove the rest of the way much less nervous than they had started. Mason pulled into his garage and let Sydney into the house while he took her bag from the trunk. It was pretty late. They didn’t have much time to sleep before catching the plane in the morning, so instead of cooking the elaborate meal he had led her to believe he would make, he scrammed up a few turkey sandwiches with potato chips. They weren’t great, but he did pair the meal with a lovely Pinot Noir, a light red wine that accented it pretty well.
They sat in front of the television, as they had done many times before, and watched the time pass intertwined with conversation and TV shows. Sydney had changed into sweatpants and a tight fitting tank top. Mason still had on his jeans, but with a sleeveless shirt instead of the starch pressed button down he’d worn earlier. The night grew late, and they hadn’t moved except to adjust the throw blanket that was now draped over them.
“We should probably get some sleep,” he uttered, noticing her drifting beside him.
If they intended on making the flight on time, they certainly needed to. They stood up from the makeshift picnic they had made on the living room floor and made their way upstairs. Nervously, the conversation both of them had been avoiding all night was now right in their faces - where she would be sleeping, and, of course, where he would be as well. Mason opened the door to his bedroom for Sydney to walk inside. Apparently more nervous than she thought, she went in, one foot in front of the other. Thoughts rushed to the forefront of her mind like a braking freight train. She’d never been this far into his house in the months they’d been together; every visit, every conversation, had been limited to the boundaries of his living room. It was the same for her too. For the first time, she stood in his bedroom and stared at his bed, the dimmed lamps beside it, and Mason standing right behind her. She was unclear, unclear of his actual motives, of his offering his bedroom, and unsure of the position she now felt she was in. The position of having sex with the first man she had ever loved.
Her thoughts were a bit extreme, but to her they weren’t. Sydney was a virgin. Mason didn’t know that, and she’d never mentioned it in any way so the idea of it finally happening scared her, but only a little. What scared her the most was the realization that through all of her waiting for so long: waiting for the right one, waiting years for a man to prove himself in a relationship, waiting for marriage, within four mon
ths and every single day with Mason who she’d fallen head over heels in love with she was ready to give him everything.
She walked into the room and slid onto the bed, facing Mason. His smile was warm and, in a way, comforting, as he stood and gazed upon her. This is it, she thought. Before she could say a word, he hit the light switch to turn off the main lights in the vaulted ceiling, leaving only the light on the night stand lit.
“Get some rest,” he said, turning to walk out of the room.
Get some rest, she thought to herself. She was confused, relieved, and disappointed at the same time. She was sure he was going to follow her, kiss her… something.
“You’re not…”
“Sleeping in here?” he cut in. “I’ll be in the guest room just down the hall. Not as close as I’d like, but close enough if you need me.”
Sydney got up from the bed, a little embarrassed, hoping he didn’t notice her subtle advances. “I think I might take a shower before I go to sleep.”
Mason smiled and walked downstairs to the laundry room to get a towel and washcloth. He had washed and dried them earlier but, like most towels, they needed to be cycled twice to get them fully dry. As he reached in, he noticed some were mildly damp, and others that were dried were cold. He removed the damp ones from the dryer and restarted it with only a few towels and washcloths, just to get them warm for her. He thought she’d like that.
Waiting for it to finish, the old Mason started to come out a little, but not without the sense of irony that he actually had feelings for Sydney. There was no question from the racing of his heartbeat that he was trying his best to control his desire for her. It would have been very easy for him to walk back upstairs, close the door behind him and do what he wanted to do to her. In fact, he thought about doing just that. From the looks of it, he didn’t see her opposing the idea. He removed the towels and washcloths from the dryer and folded them neatly before taking them back upstairs to give to her. As he reached the top step, he noticed his bedroom doors had been slightly closed. It was still open enough to peek through, but as he did, he couldn’t see where she was. Knowing she was about to get into the shower, he didn’t want to just walk into the room. He eased closer to see if he could see any farther, but couldn’t. Sydney had turned the light off on the nightstand beside the bed. He assumed from hearing the water running that she was already in. The dresser wasn’t too far from the doorway so he figured he’d sneak the towel in before she got out of the shower but just as he began to nudge the door open he quickly realized he was wrong.
Where We Left Off Page 9
