Page 68 of Paradise in Progress
Tristan Nelson was supposed to be the enemy, but when I thought I was building walls around my heart, he was busy taking them apart, brick by brick.
Chapter twenty-eight
Tristan
“There was this timewhen I was five or six and we had finished opening presents...” Kennedy tells a story from her childhood, her hands flying in all different directions. “But when I went into the kitchen a few hours later—I mean, I think it was a few hours later, I was young with no concept of time. Anyway, there was this huge package inside our kitchen. I remember running to my mom, telling her there was another gift.”
“Santa,” I say with air quotes, “must’ve forgotten a present.”
“That’s exactly what I said.”
Since opening presents this morning, the two of us have fallen into a tropical hibernation. Instead of watching it snow, like we would if we were at home, we’ve been watching the palms blowing in the breeze.A Christmas Storyis still playing in the background; however, I don’t think we’ve watched it chronologically all the way through yet.
We’ve been wrapped up together on this oversized couch, exchanging childhood Christmas stories and enjoying the quiet. The silent moments never feel awkward, which I’m taking as a sign that we’re finally fully comfortable with each other. Neither of us feels the need to keep the conversation going.
Sitting here, listening to her tell stories from her childhood, I can’t help but wonder how the hell I got so lucky. She might have said she didn’t get me anything for Christmas, but her telling me she loves me is the best gift I’ve ever received.
I’m on cloud nine that we are both on the same page. Kennedy Reed loves me. The Golden Boy in her story who got everything he ever wanted. The guy who banters with her whenever he has the chance. The guy who has shown her for the past month how much she means to him. She’s everything I never knew I wanted.
Kennedy shifts slightly, and my arm around her tightens as I savor the warmth of her body against me. The Christmas movie fades into the background as I watch her watch the movie. Her soft giggle fills the air as Ralphie makes his grand appearance in his pink bunny suit.
“No matter how many times I watch this movie, it never gets old.”
I press a kiss to the top of her head. “I never watched a lot of Christmas movies. Mom would have the black-and-white classics on, and when I was younger, I imagine I watched them, but once I hit my teens, Christmas never felt as magical.”
I’m afraid my dark cloud puts a damper on the day when she’s silent for a moment. I mentally curse myself and try to think of a way to fix the mood.
“Well, that sucks,” she says bluntly, in such a sweet tone that it makes me chuckle. Pressing a kiss to my cheek, she lazily draws circles on my arm. “What was your best childhood Christmas, then?”
“Easy.” A rumbling laugh in my chest breaks free at the memory flooding my mind.
“This is going to be good.” Amusement dances in her emerald eyes.
“When I was ten, I wanted a kayak to use on Lake Michigan when I visited my cousin. It was the same year my mom decided to host this giant Christmas Eve dinner. I’m pretty sure she invited everyone we knew, including our doorman.”
Kennedy moves away and sits up straighter as she gives me her full attention. I immediately miss her warmth, but I love how she’s hanging on to every word.
“Anyway, she told us this story about how Santa heard we were having a big Christmas Eve dinner, so he convinced his elves to drop off our gifts early. Being the naive boy I was, I believed her and thought it was the coolest thing.”
She coos an “awww,” and I shake my head as my lips turn up. “Any ten-year-old would have loved that.”
I nod, my smile growing wider. “She told all of the kids to go to the media room—”
She rolls her eyes, and I chuckle as she interrupts me. “Typical rich kid with a media room… How stereotypical.”
“While we were in the room, they organized the gifts. Now, I don’t know if I’ve told you this, but my mom loves to host. She’s the ‘hostess with mostess’ down to every last detail. From planning the menu to decorating our house until it feels magazine worthy. So you can only imagine how perfect our tree was.”
Smiling brightly, she nods. “Your mom sounds a lot like mine.”
“All of us kids came back to the living room and gathered around the tree, patiently waiting for our presents. I noticed the bright orange kayak behind the tree and couldn’t help but bounce in my seat.”
“Oh no, is this going where I think it’s going?” When she cringes, it’s too cute. I can’t resist leaning forward and placing a light kiss on the tip of her nose.
“Oh, it is.” I pause as the images play on a loop, and it’s as if I’m that ten-year-old boy watching it happen again. I can hear the chaos that filled the room. “The kayak shifts and the tree starts to fall. All of us kids started screaming and scurrying out of the way while some of the adults rushed to save the tree from falling, but it was no use. Down went the twelve-foot tree. Thank God for shatterproof ornaments or it would have been a real mess.”
“Your poor mom.” Kennedy grips her chest. “She must have been devastated.”
“She was for a second, and then suddenly, she burst into hysterical laughter. Everyone was caught off guard, and we were waiting for her to snap, but she never did. Instead, she threw her hands out wide and shouted, ‘It’s a memory.’ And she was right.”
