Page 86 of Family Bonds: Alana & Brennan
Alana opened the gift with the same care as she would dissecting a bomb. He wasn’t sure why she was almost hesitating and unauthorized thoughts crowded his brain telling him to yank it back and toss it in the yard and run.
He wouldn’t. Then he’d look like a fool. Or more of a fool than he had in front of her already.
She pulled the lid off and the light blue stones were staring back at her. Almost rough cut, but not harsh against the skin.They were all held together in a bracelet by sterling silver with a clasp on the end.
“It’s beautiful,” she said. She was looking at Becca almost in a panic and he was clueless as to the cause.
“Becca,” he said. “You haven’t been potty in a while. Why don’t you go do that and then I’ll get lunch ready?”
“Okay,” Becca said, running out of the room.
“Is it too much?” he asked. “You can tell me.”
“It’s not. I just didn’t want to cry in front of her and it was hard to hold back doing this.”
She launched herself into his arms like his daughter had done to his girlfriend earlier.
“I take it you like it,” he said, relief galloping to his extremities.
“I love it,” she said. “I know stones have meanings. I’m guessing you know what this means and that is why you picked it out?”
“It’s aquamarine and it means happiness, hope, and calmness. All the things I feel around you.”
She sniffled some. “This makes my gift seem lame.”
He laughed. “Don’t worry about that. You didn’t even have to get me anything.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I did. Because all the things you’re feeling, so am I.”
He gave her a kiss on the lips and pulled back the minute they heard the bathroom door open.
“Who is that for?” Becca asked of the lone gift by Alana’s feet.
“That’s for your daddy from me,” Alana said.
She pushed it over and he picked it up and ripped it open. Not as impatient as his daughter had her gifts, but brisker than what Alana had done.
It was a frame, he took it out of the box, and thought it signified something deep they both had the same thought.
His frame said: Daddy’s shadow. There were several shapes and sizes to put different pictures in. Two filled already. Pictures she must have snuck of his daughter when he hadn’t realized and had them printed.
“This is awesome,” he said. “I love pictures grouped like this together and never think to buy a frame to do it.”
“You don’t have to think of it if I do,” she said. She held his stare when she’d said those words.
The thought of partners and family working together clamored in his head.
“That’s me,” Becca said, climbing between them on the couch and pointing.
“It is,” she said, pulling Becca onto her lap. “I have one more thing too, but I couldn’t bring it in just yet. It would have distracted you.”
“What?” he asked.
“Cookies,” she said. “They are in my car. My mother and I made Christmas cookies on Saturday and I’ve got a little plate of them.”
“I love cookies,” Becca said, jumping up. “Can we have them now? Daddy and I are going to make them later to leave for Santa.”
“You are?” she asked.
