Page 35 of The Christmas Cover Rule
Annie Oakley: You’re an idiot.
Jonas: Did my Christmas gift come?
Annie Oakley: I would hardly consider a box of five hundred fortune cookies a Christmas gift.
Jonas: They’re from the Golden Gate Cookie Factory.
Annie Oakley: Knox says Thank you.
“Well, Jonas. Did you enjoy your first Clarke Family Christmas?”
“Yeah, we didn’t scare you away for next year, did we?” Isabelle asks, pulling apart her empanadaita.
“You almost lost me for a minute there with the shark diving, but no.” I smile, raising my glass to the table. “To the next Clark Family Christmas.”
Stella follows the rest of her family, liftingher drink, and I don’t need to look at her to know that her eyes are on me. Whether I’m getting ahead of myself here or not, after I saw the way her face lit up this morning, I’m more determined than ever to get her the Christmas vacation of her dreams. I place my left hand on her thigh, stroking my thumb against her skin, and take a sip of my wine.
“So how does the Christmas destination get picked? Do you just throw papers into a hat?” I ask.
“Basically, one person says, ‘we should go here next year,’ and then everyone else says, ‘ooo, yeah,’ and it’s decided,” Marco speaks up, and I’m taken aback because I’m pretty sure that’s the first time I’ve heard him talk this whole trip. It’s a short-lived conversation because I nod in understanding, and he goes back to looking at his phone.
“Well, not to intrude, I know I’m the newcomer here and all?—”
“Ay, calla, ya formas parte.” Mariana’s full cheeks lift when she smiles at me. The lines at the corners of her mouth are carved by years of laughter. It’s a warm, quiet kind of smile that I haven’t had from my own mother in years, but coming from her, mixed with the words ‘Oh hush, you’re already part of us,’feels like she has the love to spare and she’s already decided I’m worth sharing it with.
I reach a hand across the table, giving hers a squeeze, because I hadn’t realized how much I had been craving that until now.
I look around the table at the people I’ve spent my Christmas with. Marco has an arm dropped over Isabelle, both of them grinning at me like maybe I do belong here. Maya and Elle, with their matching wide eyes and even bigger smiles, sit beside their parents, and even their mom, who I thought might be a lost cause, is grinning at me. Across the table, Mariana and Callum continue to show me the kindness they have since the day we met, and then I look to my left. When Ilook into Stella’s eyes, I know in my bones that I’ll be seeing all of them again soon.
“Well,” I clear my throat, “we should try Aspen or Switzerland next. Both are beautiful this time of year.”
Stella’s hand squeezes my hand that’s still resting on her thigh, and I squeeze back, silently telling her, ‘Yeah, babe. We’re doing this.’
“Does Switzerland get snow?” Isabelle asks excitedly.
“I want to build a snowman!” Maya pipes up.
“And sledding.” Ella claps.
“Switzerland sounds good,” Callum says.
“To Switzerland,” I say, holding out my glass again.
“To Switzerland,” they cheer.
The night skyfills with colors of red, green, and gold, and their reflections ripple off the water below. Stella sits curled up between my legs, and the feeling of her wrapped beneath my arms is my favorite Christmas gift.
“Penny for your thoughts?” I whisper against her ear.
“I was just thinking about what you said earlier.”
Another firework cracks overhead, and Stella shifts, snuggling in closer to me. I tighten my arms around her. “No. I’m not too full to eat you out later.”
Even after the sun has gone down, I catch the blush that tints her tan cheeks, and she drops her head back to my shoulder.
“I meant what you said this morning, about there being nothing fake about us, and then at dinner… Switzerland.” She pauses, keeping her eyes out to the water ahead. “Did you mean it?”
I cup her cheek and turn her face so she’s forced to look at me. “Every word, Stella.”
