Page 57 of The Ballad of Us
The compliment lands deeper than I expect. It feels like he’s seeing more than my knack for gifts, as if he’s peering right into the parts of me that want to be understood most.
Our next stop is the department store, where the guys face the overwhelming reality of women's clothing sections. I watch Zep stand frozen in front of a display of scarves, as if he's trying to defuse a bomb.
“It's for Lana. But there are so many colors, and what if she doesn't like scarves? Do all women like scarves? Why are there so many different types of scarves?” Poor Zep ponders scarves deeper than I ever thought possible.
“Zep, breathe.” I guide him away from the scarf-induced panic attack. “Tell me about Lana. What does she wear to work?”
“Jeans and t-shirts usually. Her hair is always in a ponytail because she's running around serving tables.”
“So maybe not a delicate silk scarf. What about something more practical? A nice hair clip, headband, or cozy cardigan for when the diner gets cold?” I suggest.
His face lights up. “A cardigan! She mentioned being cold during the morning shift.”
“Perfect. What's her favorite color?”
Zep’s face falls. “I... don't know?”
“What color are her eyes?”
“Brown. A really pretty brown, like coffee with cream.”
I lead him to a display of soft, sweater-like garments in warm, earthy tones and hand him two options. “Then you want something that would bring out those brown eyes. This camel color, or maybe this sage green.”
Thirty minutes later, Zep walks away with a beautiful cashmere blend cardigan, clearly proud and excited for Lana to see his thoughtful gift.
“Do eight-year-olds like action figures?” Andrew asks.
“No! Do I look like I get kids?” Cody replies, panicked.
“You're basically a child,” Wyatt notes.
“That's different! I'm an adult child who buys his own toys. Actual kids are a mystery,” Cody argues.
I step in before they can have complete breakdowns in the Lego aisle, moving between Andrew and Cody to help Andrew select age-appropriate gifts for a few neighborhood kids, while Cody examines a hardcover cookbook for his mother and a vintage band t-shirt for his music-obsessed nephew.
By the time we arrive at the outdoor gear store, everyone is familiar with the routine. I guide each of them in their shopping while the guys fan out to grab items, joke around, and haul the bags. Gray stays close to me, sometimes sharing his thoughts but mostly just watching as I advise Wyatt on gifts. When I pause by the doorway, Gray's warm look draws my attention.
“You're enjoying this,” Gray observes as I help Wyatt choose between two different camping lanterns for his adventure-loving brother.
“I am. It’s satisfying to find exactly the right thing for someone you care about.”
“Is that what you're doing for me? Finding exactly the right thing?”
His question surprises me. My nerves and excitement around his gift have been distracting me for days. This feels like our first real Christmas together. It’s not, but it is our first healthy, present, and truly invested season together. I want his gift to show how much this new chapter means to me and how much I want to leave behind the uncertainties of last year. The memory is bittersweet, but today feels full of new certainty, and I ache to make this Christmas different and better for both of us.
“Maybe. Are you doing the same for me?” I try to act casual.
“I've been thinking about it since Halloween. It has to be perfect,” he muses.
“It doesn't have to be perfect, Gray. It just needs to be thoughtful.”
“For you, those are the same thing,” he says sweetly.
We’re so close I can smell his cologne. The way he looks at me in a tender, searching way makes my heart race. There’s an electric tension. It’s the same connection that’s always been there, but now it feels stronger, steadier, and more intentional. I let myself feel it, hope edging out the old worry.
“Can I tell you something?” he says quietly, and we've somehow moved close enough that he doesn't need to speak loudly for me to hear him.
“Always.”
