by Lisa Lace
“A party every night from November first to Christmas Eve.”
“And then?”
“Christmas day I wake up and keep working. In the evening, I’ll open one of my vintage bottles of brandy and have a few drinks.”
Zoe looks sorry for me. “That doesn’t sound like too much fun.”
“I guess Christmas is for families.”
“It’s been fun this year. I mean, except for what Laura’s been going through, obviously; but the rest of it. This stuff, like Christmas shopping and picking out the tree. I’m feeling the Christmas spirit this year.”
I close my fingers around hers. “Me, too.”
It’s Jack who finds the Christmas tree. It’s a tall, fat pine with loose needles that scatter from every slight moment.
He grins. “This one!”
“This one?” I examine the tree up and down. “I’m not sure that one will fit in your mom’s house.”
“Please, Uncle Tom? Look how fat it is!”
I can’t say no. I grin. “This is our tree.”
We return home, and the tree is delivered within the hour. My predictions were right—it’s so tall that it scrapes the ceiling. But Jack leaps into the air to catch the top of the tree and swings on it until it bends into submission, bowing in the living room, so large that it obscures half the TV. Needles spray everywhere. The whole room smells like pine.
Zoe comes in with armfuls of boxes full of baubles, tinsel, and other decorations. She puts on a Christmas CD, and we all decorate together.
I’ve never understood Christmas before. It’s always seemed like a bunch of stupid rituals that people put themselves through in some vain attempt to prove their family loyalty.
Not this year. This year, I feel some of that magic. Decorating the tree isn’t a dumb chore, it’s a fun way to spend time with my niece and nephew.
The room is filled with excitable conversation and laughter as we hang the decorations on the branches and playfully argue with each other over where each one should go. Finally, there is only the star left.
I hoist Jack onto my shoulders, star in hand, and he reaches to balance it on the top of the bent-over tree. He manages to wedge it on, and everyone cheers. Megan flicks the switch on the lights, and the tree glitters with golden sparkles.
Jack is hopping from foot to foot with excitement. “I can’t wait!”
Zoe looks over to me; she’s beaming. I grin right back. The tree is up, the kids are laughing; between us, we’ve got kind of a knack for this Christmas thing.
We stay up late watching Christmas movies and eating too much chocolate. Jack laughs hysterically at every lame pun, squirming when he giggles. Megan pushes his feet off her, reaching for another chocolate and grinning. Zoe rests her head in her hand, her elbow propped up on the arm of the sofa, a smile on her face.
Finally, the kids go to bed, and I close the gap between Zoe and me on the sofa. She gladly falls against my chest, wrapping her arms around my waist. She lets out a satisfied sigh. “That was a good day.”
I place my hand under her chin and gently lift her face. I see the surprise in her eyes before my kiss catches her, then she sinks into it.
We say nothing.
The credits of the last film we watched are still playing on the TV. The only light in the room comes from the twinkling tree.
I slip my arm under Zoe’s legs and lift her. She wraps her arms around my neck and rests her head on my shoulder. Her eyes are filled with affection; she smiles up at me like I’m the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.
I carry her upstairs to Laura’s bedroom, shutting the door behind us.
We sit side by side on the bed. Zoe’s wearing a long, thin sweater over a tank top. I pull off the sweater, then pull back the strap of her top to kiss her shoulder. I raise my lips to her collarbone, then her throat, kissing every inch of her skin that my lips can find. She tastes like perfume.
Zoe places one hand gently on the back of my head. Her fingers slip through my hair. My cock swells at her touch. Her lips are soft and gentle, her tongue seeking mine.
I rest my palms on her ribcage, feeling her body rise and fall with each breath. She lowers herself back onto the mattress, pulling me down with her. I wrap my arms around her, and we tumble on the bed like teens. Every time Zoe lifts her mouth to catch another kiss, it makes my heart ache with yearning. She’s everything I want.
She pulls my T-shirt over my head, then traces her hands over my chest. Her fingertips are cool and teasing. My cock aches with desire.
I pull off her shirt and unfasten her bra. I bow my head to her chest and close my lips around her nipple, letting my tongue wander across her flesh, then gently nibbling. She lets out a soft, long breath filled with pleasure.
She opens my jeans and slips a hand inside, beneath my briefs. She closes her fingers around my throbbing cock; it grows harder at her touch. I watch her lips part with desire when she feels how hard I am for her. She lets out a soft, longing breath, moving her hand up and down. I press my mouth down over hers, kissing her hard.
I peel Zoe’s jeans away from her legs, followed by her panties. She parts her legs for me. I press my fingers against her warm, wet clit and rub. Zoe stretches her hands out above her head, closing her eyes in bliss.
Her body lays before me, bare and waiting. My heart races in my chest, my mouth grows dry. She’s so beautiful.
I stroke her clit until Zoe bites down on her lip, then press harder and faster until she comes, her hands clasping at the pillowcases.
She sits up and pulls my pants away. There is an urgency in her movements. She goes from kissing me to tearing off my clothes, not wanting to waste a moment of intimacy.
We’re both naked. Zoe’s body is slender but full of curves in the right places. She lifts her eyes to catch mine and smiles in welcome.
I position myself and enter her. She gasps at the first thrust, letting her head fall back, her eyes shut. She opens them, then lifts her upper body, encircling her arms around me, holding onto me as I kiss her deeply, pounding into her.
She leans into each thrust, inviting me deeper. I rock into her as deeply as I can, growing faster with each stroke. I press a thumb down against Zoe’s clitoris, and she stifles a moan.
I move faster and faster until I’m on the edge of orgasm. I massage my thumb against Zoe’s clit until she comes, and then I follow, feeling a hot-and-cold rush as I finish. Breathless, I kiss Zoe once more before I roll to her side, then pull her into my embrace.
Her hair is ruffled, her face flushed. I know I’m the only one who sees her like this. It makes me feel close to her. I hold her close to my chest, kissing her forehead.
Zoe is the first to speak. “Christmas is almost over.”
“Christmas hasn’t come yet.”
“It’ll be the New Year before we know it.” She twists to look up at me. There’s a question in her eyes; a question I don’t know how to answer. What happens next?
Zoe
It’s Christmas Eve. We’ve all just returned from a hospital visit with Laura, and now the day is drawing to an end.
I sit on the sofa, watching as Tom plays his role of super-uncle to perfection. He comes in from the kitchen with a plate of cookies in one hand, a glass of milk in the other, and a carrot tucked under his arm. He lays the milk and cookies down on the coffee table.
Megan raises an eyebrow and lowers her voice. “Jack doesn’t believe in Santa anymore.”
Tom narrows his eyes playfully and spins on his heels with his hands on his hips to look at Jack. “Is that so?”
Jack giggles. “Everyone knows he’s not real.”
“I’m going to put out these cookies just in case. You never know.”
Megan laughs. “And the carrot?”
“This? This is for Rudolph.”
Tom sets the carrot down on the coffee table, then sinks down onto the sofa at my side, putting his arm around me.
He leans in toward me. “When did Jack
stop believing in Santa?”
“A mouthy classmate last year caught his dad putting the gifts under the tree.”
“That sucks. I had my costume all ready to surprise him.”
“Really?”
The thought of Tom dressed up in red and white fur with a big fake beard makes me laugh.
He grins. “No. Bet you’d love that though, right?” He nudges me and winks.
Laughing with him is good. Lately, we seem to be laughing a lot. Yet every time I do, it’s quickly followed by a wave of sadness, because I know we’re running out of time in this pretend family life.
I hold onto Tom’s arm tightly, resting my head on his shoulder. At least tonight he’s mine. It’s a lovely evening. We watch a movie, and the kids put the gifts they’ve wrapped under the tree. We wait for them to go to bed before we begin to wrap ours.
Jack hugs us both before he goes upstairs. Megan smiles and throws a wave to both of us. There’s no tension and no barriers between us.
I smile at Tom once they’ve both gone to bed. “It took a while, but I think we finally got through to them.”
Tom smiles at me, pulling me closer and kissing the top of my head. “I couldn’t have done it without you. You’ve been amazing.”
“You stepped up, Tom. The kids adore you.” I pause. “Will you be coming back to see them more often now?” I wonder if he’ll pick up on my real question: Will you be coming back to see me?
Tom reaches under the sofa to pull out a waiting roll of wrapping paper, considering my question. He turns to me and nods. “I won’t be a stranger again.”
Neither of us says any more about it. Part of me wants to press Tom for a real, solid answer; some promise of commitment for after the holidays are over. He doesn’t offer one, and I don’t push him. I’m enjoying the evening too much to risk inviting any sadness in. We’ll save that conversation for another time.
We start wrapping the kids’ presents. We’ve bought our own for them, and some on behalf of Laura. Tomorrow, we’ll go to the hospital and open them all together.
I watch Tom folding a snowman-patterned sheet of paper around the edges of a new games console he bought for Jack. I know he probably spent too much, and Laura might raise her eyebrows, but I can’t tell Tom off this time.
I know that he put a lot of thought into his gifts. He chose that console after playing lots of games with Jack and learning what he enjoys.
For Megan, he bought a designer dress that she saw a celebrity wearing on TV and said she loved. I’d balked when I’d seen the price. I remember the way Tom began grinning when Megan was fawning over the dress, already planning to get her one like it for Christmas.
This time, Tom’s spending is different. He’s not trying to pay off his family so they stop bugging him, or taking a wild guess at what they might like, or sending gifts through his PA. He’s chosen gifts that he knows the kids will love—though being Tom, he still didn’t think too much about the price tag.
I watch him pull the dress toward him and try to fold it.
I laugh and gesture for him to hand it over. “Let me,” I say. “You spend that much money on a dress, you want to make sure it’s folded right!”
Tom frowns. “Do you think I’ve spent too much?”
Yes. “No. It’s Christmas. A one-off treat won’t hurt them.”
“I tried to think, ‘What would Laura say?’ I got them one big gift each and then a few smaller ones. I didn’t want to spoil them.”
“You’ve done a great job. I know they’ll love them.”
I look at Tom fondly. Even though he’s trying to do what Laura tells him, he’s probably gone too far. But now I know him well enough to be sure his heart is in the right place. This isn’t a status gesture, this is sincere generosity and a desire to give the family a Christmas to remember.
“What did you get Laura?” I ask him.
Tom pulls another box toward him. It looks like computer software.
“It’s a project management program,” he explains. “My team swears by it. It organizes all your work and appointments, and all sorts of other stuff I don’t understand. It generates invoices; that kind of thing. I thought it might help make Laura’s job a bit easier, so she doesn’t have to work so hard.”
I smile. “That’s a sweet idea, Tom.”
“I didn’t know what to get her,” he says.
“It’s perfect.”
“What did you get?”
“I got Jack a couple of games and a new backpack for school. I got Megan some makeup and a new pair of hair straighteners. I got Laura a cushion and the new Bridget Jones DVD.”
“Good choices.”
“I’m hoping for a great Christmas.”
“It will be.”
Tom smiles as he says it. I can see the excitement sparkling in his eyes. He looks like a kid himself, tearing off tape with his teeth to stick down the paper, writing names on Christmas-themed name tags. It’s clearly been a long time since he’s had a real Christmas.
“It’s good to see you smiling.”
He looks up. “I know. I was dreading spending the holidays here, but I’m glad I came.”
“I’m glad, too.”
We look at each other, the weight of unspoken words burning between us. Tom’s the first to look away. Disappointed, I turn my focus back to the gifts I’m wrapping. Maybe it’s not the time for that conversation. Or maybe he has nothing to say.
Tom
I wake in the morning when I hear Jack’s feet on the stairs. It’s only seven, but I guess he can’t wait any longer.
I smile. Jack’s enthusiasm is a pleasant change from my recent holidays; each Christmas waking up alone, not knowing what to do with myself when work isn’t knocking my door down.
It’s Zoe’s voice I hear next; well, her laugh. It echoes down the hall as she encourages Jack’s excitement. Megan opens her door next. I hear the catch as she turns the handle, soon followed by the sound of her steps padding toward the bathroom.
I don’t want to get up. I want to spend a while longer listening to the sounds of a normal family Christmas. Not quite normal.
We’re going to see Laura in the hospital to exchange our gifts as soon as we’ve eaten breakfast, then come back for Christmas dinner.
I can’t stay in bed any longer, so I place my feet in my slippers and head downstairs. Everybody is still in their pajamas in the family room, gathered around the tree we chose together. Jack is scrutinizing each gift from a distance. I can see that he’s itching to grab one, but he stays kneeling a few feet away, waiting for the rest of us to gather.
“Merry Christmas, everyone!” All three of them look up at once with matching grins. I grin right back. “Are you ready for a great day?”
Jack bounces up and down on his knees. “Are we going to see Mom?”
“Of course, we are. First things first, though: coffee.” I head into the kitchen and switch on the coffee-maker. I lean on the counter to watch it drop into the pot. I love the smell of fresh coffee.
As I’m facing the machine, I feel arms slip around my waist. I spin to find myself face-to-face with Zoe. She smiles up at me.
She’s a vision, as always. Her hair is ruffled from sleep, falling over her shoulders in fluffy waves. She’s wearing a set of reindeer pajamas with her polka-dot house coat thrown over the top. She lifts her lips to mine, kissing me softly. “Merry Christmas, Tom.”
“Merry Christmas.”
Zoe leans back against the counter at my side, her elbows on the marble. She closes her eyes and lets out a long, content breath. “Christmas is here at last.”
“It sure is.”
“It’s weird without Laura here.”
It is strange to be in Laura’s house, with Laura’s kids, on Christmas morning without her here. But waking up to the sight of Zoe by the Christmas tree doesn’t feel strange at all. It feels right. “I know. We’ll drink this and head straight out. I know Laura will be dying to see the kids.”
/> We drink our coffee and load the gifts into the car. When we arrive at the hospital, it takes three trips between us to get them all into Laura’s room.
It’s festive inside. Someone has set up a small artificial tree in the corner and hung up some tinsel along the ceiling. The kids lay the presents out beneath the tree, then hug their mom.
Laura’s looking a lot better. She’s even sitting up. There’s some color in her face, and there’s hardly any trace of the cuts and bruises she first had after the accident. She’s moving her hands and arms more easily and has a ready smile from the moment we enter the room.
“Merry Christmas, everyone!”
“Merry Christmas, Mom!”
I step toward Laura and lean in to kiss her cheek. “Merry Christmas.”
Zoe is standing slightly on the sidelines, waiting for the family to greet each other. Laura beckons her over, then holds out her arms for a sisterly hug.
Zoe gingerly hugs her back, careful not to squeeze too hard. “Merry Christmas, Laura! It’s good to see you looking so well.”
“I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to coming home.”
I pull up a chair at Laura’s side and smile. “It’s all arranged. The nurse is ready to start next week.”
Zoe frowns. “What nurse?”
Laura answers her brightly. “Tom’s arranged a live-in nurse to come stay at my house for a while until I’m back on my feet, so to speak.”
Looking betrayed, Megan turns to me. “Does that mean you’re leaving?”
“I’ve got to go back to work in the New Year.”
“But Mom’s not well yet.”
“Megan!” Laura interrupts gently. “Your uncle can’t leave his business forever. I’m sure he’ll be back before long. Won’t you, Tom?”
I nod. “I promise.”
Megan looks tearful, but she stops herself from showing any emotion. “You’ll mean to visit, but once you get back to New York, you’ll get caught up like you always do.”