Mission accomplished.
I paused in the doorway of the living room and pointed upward. “Mistletoe.”
He still had a dazed look on his face when I leaned sideways and kissed him hard. He made a halfhearted attempt to return the kiss, but I was so excited to hear his opinion that I pulled back.
“You got the tree all done,” he murmured. “How? You did all this?”
“I might have suggested this lunch date with Auggie to get everything done in time,” I admitted.
Owen turned to Auggie. “You were in on this?”
Auggie shook his head and took a step back with his hands in the air. “Nope, I’m not taking any credit for this one. I had no idea what Declan was up to. I’m just as surprised as you are. Everything looks so shiny and expensive.”
“I tried to keep it all elegant and simple.” I lifted a shoulder. “I like what he did with it. Owen?” I turned to him once more. He was just standing there, not doing anything.
“Who’s he?”
“I hired an interior designer Charles recommended. The same guy who did Charles and Poppy’s place. I remembered you saying how nice everything was when we dropped in on them a couple of weeks ago.”
“You got everything done,” he said. “Even the tree.”
I wrapped an arm around him, resting my chin on his shoulder. “This way, you don’t have to worry about a thing since everything is done for you. You have more time to relax and just get the gifts under the tree.”
“That-that does sound like less work.” He smiled at me, and I let out a deep breath. He liked it. Whew!
“It looks quite fancy,” he said. “Professionally done. I guess we’re all set to entertain.”
“We’re entertaining besides Christmas dinner?”
He chuckled, patting my cheek. “Why does the idea of socializing freak you out so much? No, Daddy. We just have the one party.”
He glanced back at Auggie, realizing what he called me, and his cheeks went red. Auggie glanced away and acted as if he hadn’t heard. We tried to keep things pretty vanilla around his kids, but sometimes—quite rarely—Owen or I let something slip. Lucky for us, the twins and Summer were quite supportive of us.
“I need to go change into something less bulky,” he said, pulling away from me. “I’ll be down in a minute, and then I can get started on dinner.”
He strode from the living room, and I turned to Auggie, taken aback by the worried look on his face.
“Dude, you’re in so much trouble.”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“Didn’t you see his face?” He lowered his voice. “You screwed up his Christmas.”
“What? I made it better. You heard what he said. Now he has less work to do.”
Auggie smacked his forehead with his palm, but I had the idea that what he really wanted to slap was my forehead.
“It was all a pretense because he didn’t want you to see his disappointment,” he said. “Listen to me. I’ve spent twenty-three years enduring Christmases with my dad. He doesn’t see it as work. He loves to tackle everything. He likes the decorating. Every year, right after Thanksgiving, he’d take out our large boxes of decorations, bake us cookies, and Summer, Oscar, and I would help him to hang the ornaments. He especially likes putting a star on the top of the tree, not a fucking angel.”
A sense of doom descended on me at the thought of Owen not liking all the efforts that had went into today. He had seemed a bit more reserved than I’d expected. Fuck, had I screwed up?
“So he doesn’t like it,” I said more to myself than him. “Why didn’t he say something?”
He shrugged. “More than likely, he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. You put a whole lot of time and work into this.”
“Shit.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “I really messed up. I just wanted him not to stress so much about the list of things he has to do for Christmas.”
He patted me on the shoulder. “Then tell him that. He’ll understand. I gotta go, but best of luck!”
Auggie left me standing in the living room, where I stared at the evidence of my ignorance. I had still so much to learn about Owen. I’d taken it for granted that he would value not having to slog through decorations, but now everything Auggie had said made sense. I could just imagine Owen and his kids every year getting the Christmas tree ready.
“Where’s Auggie?”
Owen re-entered the living room, and I saw it, the slight upset in his eyes that he tried to hide from me.
“He left.”
“Oh, I guess it’s just me and you for dinner, then. I’ll get started.”
“Owen, wait.”
He paused, with his back to me, shoulders tense.
“Come here.”
He turned but didn’t take a step toward me. “It’s kind of late, Dec. I really should get started on dinner if we expect to eat tonight.”
“Forget about dinner. I’ll take you out.”
He flinched and gave a chuckle that came out empty. “What is this? We’re not going to do anything for ourselves anymore? We’re just going to hire help?”
Holy fuck, I was a hundred percent positive now that Auggie had been right. I had fucked up in epic proportions.
“Come here.” This time he did, perhaps noticing the seriousness in my tone. He came to a stop before me but wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Yes?”
“Look at me, baby.”
He sighed, a deep heavy sound, but he finally made eye contact. “What is this about?” he asked. “Did I do something wrong?”
I cupped his cheek. “No, I think I fucked up.”
His eyes widened, eyebrows going sky high. “What?”
“We’ll get back to that.” I frowned. “Now I want to know why you don’t feel you can trust me with the truth?”
“Declan, where’s this coming from? I trust you.”
“But not enough to tell me how you truly feel about me getting a complete stranger to spruce up our home?”
“It does look nice.”
“You said the same thing about my father’s house. That it looks nice, but come to think of it, Owen, you’ve never used ‘nice’ to describe something you like, which means you really hated what the designer did to my father’s house. Didn’t you?”
“It was done really well,” he answered, shifting his weight from one foot to the next. “It’s just not what I would go for personally. It all looks too perfect. Too fake. Nothing from the tree says us. They’re all random items that mean nothing to us, nothing we picked out together. I enjoy decorating the tree every year with my kids, and since this is our first Christmas and they have their own homes, I was especially looking forward to doing the tree. With you.”
I leaned forward and placed my forehead against his, closing my eyes. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I just saw you writing down the long list of things you had to do, and I didn’t want you to run yourself into exhaustion doing everything on your own. I thought this would help.”
“It’s okay.”
I opened my eyes. “It’s not okay. I messed up, and I have to fix it.”
Owen shook his head, and this time when he smiled, it reached his eyes. “No, I promise it’s fine. You were helping out, and I’m grateful you wanted to spare me all the work. I am. You’re a wonderful husband, Declan. I couldn’t have asked for a better man to spend the rest of my life with, and décor aside, we’ll have an amazing Christmas.”
“I better call the restaurant and cancel our Christmas dinner reservation, then.”
Owen’s mouth fell open. “A restaurant on Christmas day, Dec?”
I cringed at the horror in his tone. “Again, I was thinking of you not having to worry about a menu and washing up afterward, but I’ll cancel it right this minute.”
“You do that, Declan. You can’t take away the Christmas dinner too.”
And his words hit me hard. I had to make it up to him somehow.
Seven
/>
Owen
As I walked out of the mall, both hands laden with shopping bags of gifts to put under our perfectly decorated tree, I couldn’t stop thinking about going home to a house that seemed strange. I’d accepted I’d spend the holiday in a house that looked like every other professionally decorated home in our neighborhood, but I was still not over it yet.
Our home was lovely. The designer clearly knew his way around making a home elegant, but everything was so impersonal. It felt strange walking into the hallway and not having a connection to anything. Even when I officially moved in with Declan, it had felt like home. He had still allowed me to personalize our space, so to find our home completely decorated by a third party had thrown me for a loop.
A loop I probably wouldn’t get over anytime soon. I went Christmas shopping for gifts the day after because I needed to find back the holiday cheer. It had partly worked, and I became engrossed in picking out gifts for everyone.
It was definitely more time-consuming than before with all the additional people I had to purchase for. We were now two families combined, and new friends had been added to our circle.
I had my kids covered with gifts they would get before they went off on their cruise with strict instructions not to open them before the twenty-fifth. In fact, I’d tell Auggie to hang on to them. I didn’t trust Oscar, and Summer’s curiosity would probably get the better of her.
Though difficult, I had picked out presents for Charles and Poppy and even a tiny outfit for the unborn baby. Choosing for Silas had been easy, but I didn’t know his partners that well and had just bought them a bottle of Declan’s favorite drink with a matching set of glasses. I stopped in the adult toy store for a little something for David and Pierce, knowing David would probably turn red and Pierce would get a kick out of it.
The only person left for me to buy a gift for was Declan, but my ideas were all being influenced by the elephant in the room. Our home. Not decorated by me and him but a random stranger. I should get over it already, but I still couldn’t believe he’d thought that was okay.
I decided to leave Declan’s gift for another day and dragged all my gifts to the car and dumped them onto the back seat. At least he’d canceled the restaurant reservation. Other folks ate out in restaurants on Christmas day, but I’d planned to enjoy it with my family only—not sharing the same space with a bunch of strangers. Preparing the meal and cleaning up after were worth the effort.
I had barely closed the car door when my phone rang. Summer.
“Hey, Summy girl,” I answered the call, slipping into the driver’s seat and closing the door. I turned on the heater and rubbed my hands together, waiting for the car to warm up before even attempting to drive.
I’d still been so pensive this morning that I’d left the house without my coat. Thank God Declan was at work. If he saw me coming home without wearing one, he’d give me lines to write or something even more horrendous. I hadn’t been given corner time in a while, and I preferred if it stayed that way.
“Hi, Dad, how are you?” she asked breathlessly, then gave a little giggle.
I smiled at hearing her cheerfulness. She had come a long way, and I had Declan to thank for that. He was really the perfect husband. The Christmas mess aside.
“I’m fine, honey. Just buying all the gifts so I can wrap them later.”
“Aww, shucks. So I won’t get to peek before you get them all prettied up.”
I chuckled and accepted her video call when my phone beeped. Behind her, I could make out the outline of Penny. They were slowly finding their footing, and I couldn’t be prouder of them for working on their relationship. So many people their age would have just given up and moved on to the next best thing. Both girls were beautiful and had wonderful personalities. It wouldn’t have been a hardship for them to find another partner.
“What? No chauffeur today?” she teased me. They all loved to poke fun at me from time to time about all the money Declan spent on me. At first, it used to bother me, but I’d learned they meant no ill.
“No, he’s with Declan,” I replied. “Besides, I only use the chauffeur when I’m going out with Dec. Otherwise, I’m fine to drive myself around.”
“Who wouldn’t with that fancy schmancy car.”
I groaned, shaking my head at her grinning face. “Hey, Penny. Will you tell your girlfriend it’s not nice to poke fun at her dad?”
“Sure thing, Mr. Long.” She nudged Summer with her foot. “Baby, stop making your dad blush.”
I growled at Penny as Summer laughed. “I am not blushing.”
“All right, Dad.” She wiped tears from her eyes. “No more fun. How did everything go with Declan?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know? Him hiring a decorator and all that.”
“Auggie told you?”
“Nope. I spoke to Declan this morning.”
Ugh. I forgot how often those two talked. If anyone had told me Declan would have turned into my daughter’s confidant, I wouldn’t have believed it, but they had grown close. Sometimes it could be a real pain.
“So, did you make him take them down?” she asked.
“Of course not,” I said. “I wouldn’t. I know he did it from a good heart, and that makes a difference.”
“Oh, thank God. He sounded so upset at himself, but I told him you would understand.”
“Shit.” I must not have been convincing that what he had done was okay, but that I hoped he wouldn’t repeat the mistake next year. “I didn’t mean for him to agonize over it. It’s already done.”
“Maybe try telling him that again,” she said, her face all serious. “I’m thinking with the way things were between him and Charles, his Christmases would have been different from ours.”
Yesterday Auggie had pointed out what my reaction had truly meant for him to get how I felt. Today Summer was also liaising between us. A frown crept up. I didn’t like the way we hesitated to communicate with each other.
“I’ll take care of it, Summer,” I told her, then put the car into drive. “I’m about to head home now. Talk to you later?”
“Sure, Dad. Love you.”
“Love you too, honey, and you girls be safe.”
When I got home, I grabbed all the presents from the back of the car every finger holding a bag. I didn’t want to make two trips. I entered the house through the door of the garage and hurried to the living room to dump the bags before breakable things ended up on the floor. I speed-walked along the hall, past the staircase.
What the hell? The lights, the boughs, the ribbons—everything was gone. I gasped and rushed into the living room and got to the couch just in time. The bags slid from my grasp. One gift fell off the couch to the floor, but I didn’t check if it was broken.
“Owen, you’re back home early.”
I blinked at Declan, who was supposed to be at work but now stood before me with a gold ball in his hand. I was pretty sure I hadn’t imagined seeing him getting into his car this morning. What on earth was he doing home taking down all the decorations in the living room?
“What are you doing?” I demanded. “Declan, you took everything down!”
“I thought a lot about what you said yesterday,” he answered.
“About what?”
“That it was our first Christmas together and we deserve more out of the holidays.”
“Did you miss the part where I told you it was okay?” I walked over to him and took the gold ball out of his hand.
“I know you said that, but I didn’t want everything to just be okay. I want it to be the way you envisioned our first Christmas.”
“So you took everything down?”
“Well, not everything. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if the exterior stayed, since it would take a lot more manpower to remove everything quickly.”
I stared at our beautiful undressed Christmas tree once more and the bare mantel. “But I thought you went to work.”
“I went at first,
but I left when you called to let me know you were off to the mall.” He placed a hand around my waist, pulled me into him, and hovered his lips right next to mine. “Do you approve?”
“The right answer would be to tell you that you shouldn’t have removed them.”
“And the truth?”
I couldn’t contain my joy anymore. I wrapped my arms around his neck and took the kiss he was keeping back. “The truth is that I really wanted to decorate that tree with you, but if you don’t want to do it, I understand. I can do it alone.”
He laid a hand over my lips. “No, this is our Christmas. I’m not going to let you do this alone. I don’t know much about decorating trees, but I’m willing to be your muscle or your distraction guy when you need to take a break.”
“And at my advanced age, I may need to take several breaks.” I nibbled on his bottom lip.
“I’ll ensure I am very accommodating.”
His answer was just what I needed. My lips returned to his, and while kissing, I backed him up against the sofa until he fell into a sitting position. I straddled his hips and kissed him again, long and hard.
Eight
Declan
Our living room looked great. Nothing at all like what the designer had done, but seeing the result of all Owen’s and my efforts, I definitely appreciated the new view. We might have gone a little bit overboard with the different colors, but everything had been carefully selected between us.
I crossed over to the tree and gave the snow globe on the tree a slight shake. I watched the snowflakes slowly drift back to rest at the bottom, blinking at a memory of my mother plucking me away from the Christmas tree when I’d been toying with the ornament.
The memory took me by surprise, and I stepped back, shaking my head. For years all my recollection of her had been in the way she had appeared before she died. Seeing the flash of happiness in her eyes, hearing her distinct high-pitched laugh just now was unexpected.
Maybe I should have anticipated this. When Owen had casually asked me if I had any Christmas ornaments, my first response had been “no.” Then I remembered the boxes in the attic.
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