Young Revelations (Young Series)

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Young Revelations (Young Series) Page 49

by Kimble, W. R.


  I’m startled back to the present when I hear whimpering at my feet. Matthew chuckles and pulls away from me, picking up the puppy from the floor and setting him between us. “He is very cute,” he says thoughtfully. “I always wanted a dog.”

  My brow furrows as I try to remember whether Matthew has ever mentioned this before. I’m coming up with nothing. “I didn’t know that,” I say, scratching the puppy behind the ears. “You never had one as a kid?”

  He shakes his head. “Nope,” he responds. “Aside from moving around as much as we did, my dad thought a dog would just destroy the house. I did have a hamster when I was ten, though.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Only had him for a few weeks. I put him in one of those hamster balls to get some exercise and one of my sisters left the backdoor to the patio open. Next thing I knew, he was rolling off the edge of the third story. Claire and I went looking for him, but we never found him.”

  “That’s terrible!” I tell him, trying not to laugh. “You must have been devastated!”

  He shrugs. “I got over it pretty quickly,” he says. “I’ve always had suspicions that Elizabeth and Holly left the door open on purpose, so when I couldn’t find Stumpy, I grabbed a garter snake and let it loose in their bedroom. Perfect revenge.”

  I’m not sure what I find more amusing—the fact that he caught a snake to torture his sisters or that he named his hamster Stumpy. “I think we’ll let Tyler name the puppy,” I tell him, grinning.

  “Probably a good idea,” he agrees. “Though I’m not hopeless picking all names; I did think of Olivia.”

  “That you did. And it was the perfect suggestion.”

  He grins rather shyly. “Glad you think so,” he murmurs softly.

  We both look up when the clock chimes midnight, smiling at each other. “Merry Christmas,” I say quietly.

  “Merry Christmas,” he repeats, leaning over to kiss me slowly and tenderly. “I’ve got something for you.”

  I raise an amused eyebrow. “I bet you do,” I tell him.

  Rolling his eyes, he shakes his head in exasperation, though I know he’s fighting not to laugh. “How crass of you,” he comments. “I’ve been a bad influence on you after all.”

  “This isn’t news,” I reply, realizing he’s kneeling in front of the Christmas tree, searching for something. “And I thought we’d agreed we weren’t going to exchange gifts.”

  He looks over at me, looking confused. “When did we agree on that?” he asks.

  “Around the time we decided to have our wedding the day after Christmas,” I remind him.

  He snorts a laugh. “You didn’t actually think I’d adhere to that rule, did you?” he asks smugly. “Seriously, Sam, do you know me at all?”

  As a matter of fact, I do know him. Quite well. And I knew he wouldn’t follow the no Christmas gifts suggestion, so while his back is turned, I reach over to open the drawer of the end table and remove the wrapped box for him. When he stands up, his eyes find his gift from me and he smirks. “Thought we agreed?” he teases, walking around to sit beside me again. A small square box rests on his knee.

  “Yeah, well, I knew you would only break the rules, so I figured I should have something for you too,” I tell him, smiling as we exchange gifts. “And it’s not much, but I saw it and thought it would be perfect for you.”

  He grins. “I think you could give me a box of tissues and it would be a perfect gift,” he says.

  “I’ll keep that in mind for next year,” I reply. “You’re incredibly difficult to shop for. Open yours first; wouldn’t want to be overshadowed.”

  Rolling his eyes, he shifts in his seat smirking at the sight of the puppy fast asleep between us. I watch slightly nervously as Matthew begins to carefully unwrap his present. It really isn’t much—just something I happened to see during a shopping trip with my sister for maternity clothes. By his standards of gift buying, it really is nothing, but I really thought it would be something he’d enjoy. Looking down at the small package he gave me, I already know his gift for me is going to be over the top, because when Matthew is involved, it’s always over the top.

  The top of the box is removed and he moves the tissue paper out of the away. A slow grin spreads across his face as he removes the gray t-shirt from the box and shakes it so he can see the whole thing. “Well, it’s true,” he tells me with a wink. I roll my eyes, relieved that he likes it. I knew he’d get a kick out of the large block letters across the front that says I make adorable babies. “I love it.” He leans over and presses his lips against mine briefly before removing the shirt he’s wearing in exchange for the new one.

  “There’s something else in there,” I tell him.

  He removes the tissue-wrapped pink onesie that spells out Adorable Baby, and laughs. “Absolutely perfect,” he snickers. “Thank you, Sam.”

  “You’re welcome,” I tell him quietly.

  “Your turn.”

  Smiling, I pull on the little bow wrapped around my gift and remove the lid, then gasp. Inside, nestled on a black velvet pillow is a charm bracelet with only two white gold heart-shaped charms. The first holds a small green emerald and below it is Tyler’s name and birth date. The other doesn’t have a stone or a date; only Olivia’s name. I grin slightly at the middle name we chose a few days ago.

  “I thought about waiting until she was born to give this to you,” Matthew says quietly, taking the bracelet out of its box, “but I’m a little impatient. When she’s born, I can take it in and get the stone and the engraving. Now seeing what you gave me, I’m happy I didn’t go with anything more involved. We seem to have worked with a theme.”

  I hold out my wrist for him and he gently wraps it with the bracelet and locks the clasp. He then very carefully arranges the charms and sits back to proudly admire his handiwork. “I love it,” I tell him softly. “It’s more than perfect. Thank you.”

  He smiles and brings my hand to his lips for a quick kiss. “You’re welcome,” he says. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to wear it for the wedding. I realize it probably doesn’t go with your dress or anything.”

  “You haven’t seen my dress,” I remind him. Though it hasn’t been for lack of trying. After the third time of trying to find ways to get a peek, which included sending in Tyler with a camera, dispatching a remote control car that relays real time video to a variety of different viewing displays, and “accidentally” coming into the room when Claire and I were looking at it, I sent it home with Claire, much to Matthew’s annoyance. He claims he must be getting old if he can’t perform the simple duty of getting a peek at his fiancée’s dress.

  “I would have if that damn remote control car didn’t beep when your sister nearly stepped on it,” he grumbles. “At any rate, it doesn’t matter. You’re going to look incredible in whatever you wear, and it won’t hurt my feelings if you decide not to wear the bracelet.”

  Good to know, but I was planning on wearing my locket, and the bracelet goes so well with it,” I say. “Did you ever talk Danny out of the bachelor party?”

  He snorts a laugh. “His idea of a bachelor party is a Star Trek marathon and strippers dressed like female videogame characters. Completely harmless. Anyway, Claire is planning on kicking me out of the house after Christmas dinner, so at least I’ll have Danny to make fun of to take my mind off my nerves.”

  “Unless I’m very much mistaken, I’ve seen pictures of you and Danny at Star Trek conventions dressed in costume,” I tell him with a raised eyebrow. “So don’t even try to convince me you wouldn’t have the time of your life.”

  He only chuckles in response. “Do you know what Claire and Lily have in store for you?” he asks after a few minutes.

  I shake my head. “Hopefully not a Star Trek marathon. I know it won’t be anything too crazy, though I think I heard the words strip-o-gram earlier today.”

  “Well, you should enjoy that,” he says, his voice shaking with laughter. “I still don’t think it’s necessary
for us to spend the night apart. It’s not like we haven’t been through this before.”

  “True, but Claire is insistent,” I reply. “And since this will be the last time we do this,” I shoot him a pointed glare that makes him chuckle, “she thinks we should do it right.”

  His only response is a sigh and I know my argument did nothing to convince him. I’m not really looking forward to the separation either, but it’s only one night and afterwards, we’ve got our entire life together. And while we can joke about bachelor/bachelorette parties, we both know without a shadow of a doubt we won’t be doing anything we’ll regret later. Tyler will be joining his father his cousins, Uncle Danny, and Marcus so strippers and booze are out of the question. As for me, I think my pregnancy will stop me from doing most things, and the night will probably be spent watching movies or something equally innocent.

  It’s a far cry from our first wedding and just goes to prove we’ve both grown up drastically since then. Leo had been in charge of Matthew’s bachelor party back then and I’d actually been concerned that he might be late. I still don’t know all of what went on that night, but Matthew wouldn’t even look at an alcoholic beverage for months afterwards and nobody missed how the men who had been present at the party would barely meet each other’s eyes. My night had been relatively tamer. The fact that most of the girls attending my party weren’t legal to drink didn’t seem to stop anybody and I have a vague recollection of Claire dragging me to a strip club where I may or may not have gotten a lap dance from one of the dancers. Though she denies it completely, I suspect Claire might still have photographic evidence of that night and I wouldn’t put it past her to use those photos for blackmail if the mood struck her.

  Maybe I can get her drunk enough tonight to hand them over…

  I glance over, finding Matthew fast asleep on the couch beside me with a puppy on his chest and I’ve rarely seen anything so adorable. Only for a moment, I consider waking him so we can go upstairs, but then I decide we’re both perfectly comfortable where we are—and in our pajamas since we had to convince our son we were going to bed soon after him so Santa would visit—so I grab a blanket from the back of the couch, find a way to curl up with my fiancé and the puppy, and within minutes, we’re all snoring.

  ––––-o––––-

  I wake up to muffled giggling and it takes me several moments to realize what’s going on. Glancing down at my chest, I find Samantha still fast asleep, the arm with her bracelet resting across my chest. I smile, remembering the evening before and our little gift exchange, and I smile more widely when I recall this is our first Christmas together in five years and in about a day and a half, we’ll be married again.

  This reminds me about the puppy and the giggling. I crack open an eye and stifle a laugh at the sight of my son rolling around on the floor with one of his Christmas presents while still trying to keep quiet so as to not wake us. Gently, I shake Samantha’s shoulder and she grumbles something under her breath as her eyes blink open.

  “Morning, beautiful,” I whisper.

  She responds with a sleepy smile. “Morning,” she replies through a large yawn. “What time is it?”

  “No idea, but apparently late enough for Tyler to be wide awake and find his way to the Christmas presents.”

  We both glance over to find the puppy has latched on to Tyler’s pajama pants and the two are playing some sort of tug of war. Samantha chuckles, drawing our son’s attention and he gives us a breathless smile.

  “Look, Mom! Santa left a puppy here!” Tyler exclaims as the puppy jumps onto his lap and starts licking his face. “Can we keep him?”

  I smirk down at Samantha. “I think we can,” she says with a feigned reluctant tone. “But you have to take care of him. Feed him, play with him, take him outside… Can you do that?”

  Tyler nods fervently, his eyes wide and excited. “What’s his name?”

  Samantha and I sit up. “He doesn’t have one yet,” I tell him. “Why don’t you pick his name?”

  We watch as Tyler’s little brow furrows and his head cocks to the side as he thinks. Meanwhile, the puppy with no name is still trying to play with his new friend. “Bandit,” Tyler finally says firmly and decisively.

  I make an impressed face and nod. “Very good name for a puppy,” I agree. “What do you think, Sam?”

  “Better than Stumpy,” she mutters teasingly. I narrow my eyes at her and she responds by standing and crossing the room to sit next to Tyler. “Are you ready to open your other presents?”

  “There’s more?” Tyler asks almost incredulously.

  I snort a laugh. “Did you not see the tree?” I ask him, pointing to the corner of the room.

  Tyler’s eyes widen so much that I think they might fall out of their sockets. I wonder if he’s ever seen so many gifts under a tree before, since I know Samantha and Tom were always living with a budget that I never had to deal with. There’s a slight pang in my heart at the recollection of how much time I’ve lost with my family. It’s getting easier to think about the more I remind myself we’re all back where we belong and there’s no point lingering on a past I can’t change.

  “Why don’t you go up and wake your Aunt Lily,” Samantha suggests. “And I’ll make all of us some breakfast, then we can open presents.”

  It’s no surprise that Tyler doesn’t hesitate even for a second to rush upstairs, calling for Bandit to follow him. Samantha and I head into the kitchen and while she cooks a quick breakfast, I get the coffee brewing since we learned from experience that if Lily doesn’t have coffee in the morning, no one has a good day.

  Barely ten minutes later, we hear the unmistakable sounds of boy, puppy, and annoyed aunt approaching. We manage to get through breakfast without incident, though Samantha had to tell Tyler puppies aren’t supposed to eat syrup, and we abandon the dirty dishes in exchange for making a mess under the Christmas tree. I can’t get the smile off my face as I watch Tyler rip into his gifts and exclaim his pleasure at everything he found with equal excitement whether it was a book or his favorite cartoon action figure. I love seeing him so happy and I cannot wait until next year until we can share all of this with our daughter, even though she probably won’t have any concept of what’s going on. Tyler’s first Christmas was mostly him tearing paper off everything and ignoring the toys we bought him in favor of playing with the boxes.

  Once the presents are finished being opened, Lily mutters something about taking a nap and disappears, and Samantha isn’t far behind her, leaving me to keep Tyler occupied all morning. When we tire of playing with toys, we take Bandit out of the backyard and spend several hours playing in the snow. Tyler starts a snowball fight that results in us tossing snowballs in the air for Bandit to try and catch. The typical result is me having to dig him out of a snow bank.

  I happen to glance up at the deck and find Claire and Samantha watching us. Grinning, I scoop up Bandit, then Tyler and rush up the stairs. It’s only now I realize how cold we all are and I’m surprised Samantha isn’t glaring at me for letting our son freeze solid. She doesn’t seem to mind in the least, especially when Tyler regales her with our morning’s adventures.

  The rest of the day passes very pleasantly with food and hot chocolate and laughter, and it’s perfect. I don’t even allow my and Claire’s conversation with our parents and sisters put a damper on the day. Only my mother acknowledges that I’m getting married tomorrow, though I can almost see my father’s disapproving frown and the looks of disgust on Holly’s and Elizabeth’s faces. Needless to say, those three won’t be attending as far as I know. And I think I’d be perfectly content if they stayed away completely. I’ve yet to confront my father about the things I’ve been told regarding his threatening to kick Samantha out of this house while I was “dead,” and I’m not about to do it today of all days. There will be a time and place for that and I prefer to enjoy my happiness.

  Around dinnertime, Claire declares it’s time for the boys to leave until tomor
row morning. Of course, her phrasing was slightly more colorful after I told her she can’t kick me out of my own home. The glare she gave me could peel paint and I decided I’d like to live to see my wedding day, so I went upstairs with Tyler to pack a bag for the night. Samantha follows me to our bedroom and we take very good advantage of the time alone, though we never get to the really good stuff, because my wonderful baby sister is out in the hallway telling me to hurry up.

  “There’s still time,” I tell Samantha, glancing down at my watch. “We can sneak out, fly to Vegas, and elope. We won’t have to deal with all this crap.”

  She giggles, snuggling up next to me on the bed. “And when we get back, Claire will kill us,” she informs me. “Not sure an Elvis impersonator is worth all that.”

  “I think I have to wholeheartedly disagree with that,” I respond, “but as you wish.” I force myself to roll away from her, stand up, and straighten my clothes before helping her up and pulling her against me, resting my lips against her forehead. “I’m going to miss you tonight.”

  I can feel her smile against my neck. “It’s only one night,” she reminds me. “But I’ll miss you too.” She wraps her arms around my waist and takes a deep breath, and I know she’s breathing me in to hold her over until tomorrow. “Don’t have too much fun without me?”

  Chuckling, I kiss her again. “Not possible to have fun without you, but I’ll certainly try. Are you going to survive with just Claire and your sister and my niece tonight?”

  “We’ll find out, won’t we?”

  “Well, if worse comes to worse, hide the bodies and I’ll help you bury them in the morning before the wedding,” I tell her.

  She starts shaking in silent laughter. “That’s terrible,” she informs me, her voice uneven. “But I’ll take it under advisement.”

 

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