Page 33 of Mine for the Holidays
Joan smiles. “I like that you called her your heart.”
“Not just my heart, Joan. She’s my soulmate. There’s no doubt in my mind about it.”
“You’re making an old woman very happy talking like that, Nathaniel.”
“Nate. Please.”
“OK, Nate.” She smiles as she searches my eyes for a moment. “There’s something I’d like to give you. And you can refuse, but it would makemyheart very happy to see it put to good use.”
“OK.”
She digs through her bag, her entire arm disappearing like she’s Mary Poppins going through her carpetbag attempting to retrieve a lamp. It’s quite comical to watch, even more so when her head disappears and her voice muffles.
“Ah, here it is,” she says, straightening up and opening her hand before she meets my eyes with joy and distant memories held in hers. “This has been my most treasured item for many years, and now, seeing the way you are with my great-niece means I’d like to bequeath it to you. Perhaps it will do for you what it couldn’t do for me.”
“Couldn’t do?” I look from her open hand to her eyes. “I’m sensing there’s an interesting story behind this.”
“Of course.” She smiles at the memory as she gazes at the item and holds it up to the light. “There’s a little more to my story than the family knows. And if you have some time, I’d like to tell it to you. And maybe when I’m finished, we’ll all be working toward a new dream.”
I turn my body toward her, taking her cool hand in mine as I smile. “You have my full attention, Joan.”
She smiles, her gaze getting far away as she visits a distant memory. “It all started before the war…”
* * *
Delaney returnsabout twenty minutes after Joan has left. Her shoulders sag, and her nerves seem frayed. “Remind me never to lie to my mother again,” she says as she flops on the bed beside me and groans into her pillow.
Smiling, I set the book she bought me aside and curl around her instead, my hand drifting up and down her spine in comfort. “I’m guessing it didn’t go so great.” I press a kiss to her shoulder.
“She made it all about her. And I ended up getting really snappy.” She turns her face so she’s looking into my eyes. Hers are a little bloodshot from frustration and tears.
I run my fingers through her thick hair, brushing it away from her face. “Did you give her a piece of your mind?”
“I did, actually.” She rolls to her side, and we entwine our fingers. “I told her she hurt me. That she always made me believe I wasn’t good enough or pretty enough. She said she didn’t believe that was true. And then I told her it was true, and that a mother is supposed to go out of her way to make her daughter feel worthy of love. But instead she acted like I was pitiful and undesirable unless the man was half blind.”
“I hope you know that none of that is true. It never was.”
“I do now,” she says, turning her face to look into my eyes. “And I know I struggled to believe it in the beginning, but I do believe it now. Just the fact a man as gorgeous as you keeps tearing my clothes off has to mean something, right?” She smiles, and I shuffle closer to press a gentle kiss to her lips.
“I’ve got nothing to do with it, gorgeous. You were born beautiful, and you should have spent your life believing that. I want you to promise me that you won’t allow your self-worth to be defined by what another human thinks of you. You are beautiful inside and out, and nothing on this earth can change that fact. Believe it. Own it. And tell anyone who says different to fuck off.”
She places a hand on the side of my face as her eyes glisten with unshed tears. “Gosh, I’m so ridiculously in love with you, Nate.”
“Me too,” I say, leaning in closer to kiss slow and long. “If memory serves me correctly, you wanted to spend the rest of the night lying in bed with absent clothes.” I waggle my eyebrows.
“Absent clothes,” she repeats with a laugh. “Yes, that’s exactly what I need.”
“The perfect Christmas Eve. I love you, gorgeous,” I murmur before I kiss her like I mean it, pulling the zipper open on her dress so we can make good on that naked promise. And as the evening whiles away, I know that despite the drama at dinner, this night will be remembered fondly. Because it’s the night we came out to the world as the people we are, thecouplewe are. It’s only happiness from here. Especially since come Christmas morning, I have averyspecial surprise planned for my beautiful red-headed love.
Delaney
Is it silly that at thirty-six I still feel the magic and wonder of waking up on Christmas morning? Like, somehow, Santa will have come down the chimney and filled my stocking, eaten the cookies, and drunk the milk.
Of course, I’ve been aware of the truth behind gift-giving since Mary Trunchberg ruined it all for me in the third grade. But besides that one wobbly year when I came to terms with things, I’ve always felt that childish excitement of waking up on December 25thand knowing it’s a special day.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve understood why Aunty Joan always insisted on hosting us at her house. Christmas just isn’t Christmas without family and children to keep that wonder alive and well. As we grew and my brothers got married and started having kids of their own, I’ve really appreciated spending holidays as one big dysfunctional family, just for that moment on Christmas morning when the kids yell, ‘Santa was here’ then tear into their gifts.
But this year, I’m filled with wonder of a different kind. Because when I open my eyes on Christmas morning, my body achingly sated from yet another night filled with love-making, I’m presented with something I never in my wildest dreams imagined—Nate, wearing a Santa hat andnothing elseas he kneels beside the bed on only one knee, aheart-shaped diamond ringpinched between two fingers.
