Champagne Toast

by Melissa Brown

  Kate shakes her head as I walk towards the table holding our plates. She looks astonished. It always feels so good to impress her.

  “I can’t believe you did all of this, Ev. Is this what your family does every year?” she asks, placing her napkin in her lap.

  “Yep,” I nod, “it’s a tradition. We always have a big breakfast before opening our gifts. And I wanted you to experience it.”

  “I love it.” Kate bites the side of her lip. She almost looks sad.

  “Sweets?” I reach out to touch her hand. She squeezes mine in return.

  “It’s nothing, seriously. I’m just impressed. Christmas morning in my house wasn’t terrible or anything like that. Just not so, I don’t know, special.”

  “What did your family do on Christmas morning?”

  “Well, it was different every year. Sometimes we’d go for brunch at my Nana’s house. I always loved that. Nana was so awesome.” She always smiles so wide when she talks about her Nana. It makes me want to know more about her.

  “Tell me about her,” I respond, taking a sip of orange juice.

  “Oh, Ev, you would’ve loved her. She was honest and artistic and as moody as they come. We understood each other. I think my mom always envied my bond with Nana. But, Nana took the time to get to know me. My mom never did.” She shrugs, piercing her eggs with her fork before continuing, “You know, Nana was the one who always played Dean Martin in her house. That’s why I love him so much.”

  “Ahh, I’d wondered how you became such a fan of Dino. For me, it was my dad. I grew up listening to Frank and Dean and all those crooners.”

  “I love that we have that in common. Most guys think I’m weird for my taste in music.”

  “Nothing about you is weird. Nothing.”

  The sides of her mouth perk up a bit. She pops out of her chair and kisses me tenderly on the lips.

  “Thank you for this, Ev. This is the best breakfast I’ve ever had. Hands down.” Those words make it all worth it. I’d cook breakfast for this woman every damn day, that’s how happy she makes me.

  After breakfast, Kate insists on doing the dishes. But, I manage to put all the food away before she kicks me out of the kitchen. It’s the perfect excuse for me to grab her gift out of my backpack. There’s another gift for her under the tree. But, this one is different; it means something. This one is about us.

  While Kate finishes cleaning up the kitchen, I place the needle on a familiar record. Since we made love to this album, it’s stayed on the turntable, and I have a feeling it’ll remain there until after the New Year. Dean Martin’s voice begins to croon throughout the apartment, and I know this is what her Nana would want her to listen to today.

  Kate rounds the corner of the living room and smiles widely. “I know why you want to listen to this album. You had your way with me under that tree and now you want to relive those memories, huh?” She pulls on the belt of my robe. I hold in my breath, hoping she won’t feel her gift inside the pocket of my robe. I’m not ready to give it to her just yet.

  “Well, of course, that’s part of the reason I love it. But, I think Nana would like it too, don’t you?” I ask, rubbing the pad of my thumb across her chin. She smiles and tilts her head down to kiss it.

  “I love you, Ev,” she says, her tone serious and affected.

  “I love you, too.” Brushing her lips with mine, I cup her cheeks with my hands, stroking her skin longingly. Her arms wrap around my waist as she licks my top lip seductively. Taking this as an invitation, I caress her tongue with mine, moving one hand to rest behind her neck, the other sliding down to her ass. Kate smiles as I rub her ass slowly and continue to kiss her hard.

  I’m not looking to seduce her, although with Kate, it’s always tempting. I can’t be in the same room as her without wanting to strip her down and have my way with her. But, right now it’s more than that. Remembering my intentions with this morning, I pull away slowly, take her by the hand and lead her to the Christmas tree. We sit, cross-legged next to the fir, the deep green needles reaching out towards us in a welcoming gesture. The white lights sparkle, even in the daylight, and right away I’m as smitten with the tree as Kate has been for over a month.

  “Present time.” She giggles, grabbing a box wrapped in red shiny paper and placing it in my hands. She tilts her head towards the gift and says, “Open it, Ev.”

  Tearing open the gift, paper flying everywhere, I look at her in astonishment when I open the box.

  “It’s a first edition,” Kate says softly, looking anxious. I stare at the copy of Lord of the Flies, my favorite book of all time. A first edition. And it’s sitting in my hands. My hands.

  “Wow,” I say, gazing down at the worn hardcover book, William Golding’s name in yellow block letters among the jungle green of the cover art. “I can’t believe you did this. Sweets, this must’ve cost you a fortune.”

  “It was worth it,” she says, shaking her head. “I know how much this book means to you. Your old paperback is always perched on your bookshelf, and I thought you should have the original. I was able to get a deal because it’s not in the best condition, but all the pages are there; I checked. And there are no smudges or anything like that, so you can still read all of the text.”

  “I don’t know what to say. I’ve been obsessed with this book since I read it in junior high school.”

  “I know,” she says with a smile.

  “Your turn,” I say, grabbing the large box that I placed under the tree last week. I realize now that she will probably be a little disappointed with this gift because she doesn’t know that it’s not her real present. The real one is tucked inside my pocket.

  Kate starts to unwrap the box carefully, smiling as she sees the Macy’s box beneath the gift-wrap. Kate’s been in love with that store since she was a girl and it was called ‘Marshall Fields’. Her mom used to take her to the one on State Street. It was one of the few things they actually enjoyed doing together. They’d go there once a year, and Kate would help her mother choose a bottle of cologne for her father for Christmas. Her mother would buy her a box of Frango candies and Kate would munch on them during their drive home. And it was in those moments that Kate felt she actually belonged in her family. She lost herself in that store, in that ritual. I wonder how long it’s been since she and her mother visited Macy’s.

  “It’s gorgeous, Ev,” Kate says, stroking the fabric of the scarlet-colored wool sweater.

  “Do you really like it?” I ask. “There’s a receipt in there in case I botched the size or whatever. But, when I saw it, I thought you’d look beautiful wearing it.”

  Kate kisses me before holding it up in front of her. “Nope, it’s perfect. I’ll wear it to your parents’ place tonight.” Her smile is unwavering, and I’m so surprised that I don’t see even the smallest hint of disappointment on her face. A sweater compared to a first edition book? No comparison. But, I’m hoping that her real gift will impress her even more.

  “Well, I got you something else,” I say, pulling the very small box from my pocket. “Now, before you say anything, it’s not an engagement ring.” My pulse is through the roof. I’m so fucking scared right now. But, I want her to have this; I need her to know how I feel.

  “Okay,” she says tentatively. I place the small box in her hand. It is a white box simply adorned with a red bow. She looks at it curiously before opening. Her breath catches when she sees the contents of the box, then she looks up at me. I can’t read her face.

  “Let me explain,” I say, inching towards her. “I bought this ring for you so that you’ll know that I’m devoted to you, and I want to build a future with you.”

  “Okay,” she smiles.

  “We’re both young and I know we’re not ready for marriage yet, but that’s what I want . . . down the line. I’m not going anywhere. I want us to have a future together, and I bought you this ring to symbolize that,” I finish, taking a deep breath and blowing out my mouth.

  “So, it’s
a promise ring?” she asks with an innocent laugh, holding the white gold band in her hand. It’s a thin band with a simple sapphire in the center, her favorite stone. She looks at it lovingly before looking back into my eyes.

  “Yeah, I guess. I know the concept of a promise ring is kind of outdated and maybe a little lame, but I wanted to get this for you. We don’t have to call it that if you don’t want to, I just−”

  “Ev, stop,” Kate says, placing the ring on her finger. “I love that you bought me a promise ring. I love that you want all those things with me. It scares the crap out of me, but I want those things, too.”

  Her words sting a little.

  “I don’t want to scare you,” I say, shaking my head. Kate takes my hands in hers and kisses each of them gently.

  “I love it, Ev. And I love you. I can’t help it if talking about this stuff makes me scared. I’m trying to be honest with you.”

  “I know, it scares me, too,” I admit, my hands are trembling. I’m terrified that thoughts of the future are mine alone.

  “Listen to me. I love my ring. And I love what it represents. Thank you so much for the best Christmas gift I’ve ever received,” Kate says, kissing my hands again.

  “Merry Christmas, sweets.” I sigh, hoping her words are genuine. That she truly wants a future for us, too.

  “Merry Christmas. I love you,” she says, climbing into my lap and kissing me passionately on the lips. She pulls back slowly, giving me a devilish grin. I return the grin and take her by surprise. I tackle her quickly to the floor, pressing her hands into the carpet.

  “Ev,” she protests, pretending to struggle as I tickle her sides. She wraps her legs around my waist, crossing her ankles behind my back.

  “Is there a problem?” I play dumb, feigning innocence.

  I kiss her neck and chin passionately as she opens my robe, pushing it off of my shoulders. I look down at her with sheer satisfaction. God, I am so in love with this woman. Once again, we make love beneath the Christmas tree. Only this time, she’s wearing my ring.

  ***

  Several hours later, we’re arriving at my parents’ place in Green Bay. Kate looks pale as I pull the car into the driveway. I feel bad that she’s so nervous, but I couldn’t let this holiday go by without my parents meeting the girl who’s changed everything for me.

  “They’re going to love you,” I say as reassuringly as possible.

  “You don’t know that,” Kate says, staring out the window, drumming her fingertips on the door handle.

  “Yes, I do,” I reply with complete confidence.

  “Evan, my own parents don’t even like me.” Kate says, slightly exasperated.

  “Your parents have no idea what they’re missing,” I say, stroking her hair. She gives me a half smile, but the tension in the air is still thick. She’s afraid. I can feel it.

  “Okay, here goes nothing,” she says, opening her door and walking with me up the brick walkway to my parents’ simple Cape Cod style home. My dad must’ve shoveled last night because hints of fresh snow are visible in between the bricks, and salt crunches beneath our feet as we approach the door.

  Kate stops to ring the bell, but before her finger reaches the button, I take her hand in mine, shaking my head with a reassuring smile. “We don’t ring the bell here. The door is unlocked. They’re waiting for us.”

  Walking into the house, my senses are flooded with the familiar scent of apple pie. Breathing in deep, I take it in — the smell of home.

  “Evan, is that you, honey?” my mom calls from the kitchen.

  “Yeah, Mom, we’re here,” I say, helping Kate take off her coat and placing it on the coat rack next to the front door.

  “Honey, you made it,” my mom says as she approaches. She looks just as she always does. Rosy cheeks, dark brown hair and wearing a sweater with a snowman on it. Mom really likes the holidays. She walks over to us quickly and approaches Kate first. “And you must be Kate. I’m so happy to meet you,” Mom says, pulling Kate in for a hug.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Maxwell,” Kate says, her voice shaking slightly, her hands trembling. “It’s good to meet you, too.”

  “Please, call me Jane,” she says in her signature kind voice before reaching for me. “Come here, sweetheart.”

  Wrapping my arms around my mom, I hug her tightly. I feel her sigh into my shoulder as we hug. It’s good to be home.

  “Evan,” my dad says, walking down the hall. He pats me on the back when he reaches us, shaking my hand with a strong grip. I’m hoping my dad’s presence won’t intimidate Kate too much. He’s a really tall guy, almost 6’5. His voice is very deep and he doesn’t smile very often. But, he’s a good man and a good role model, honest and hardworking.

  “Hey, Dad. I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, Kate,” I say, putting my arm around Kate. She extends her hand towards my dad, who takes it and gives it a firm shake. Kate looks a little overwhelmed as the gesture comes to an end.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Maxwell,” Kate replies.

  Dad smiles and looks back to me. “So, how was the game? Good seats?” He puts his arm around me and guides me down the hallway towards the living room and kitchen area.

  “Dad, they were awesome. Best gift, thanks again. Kate came with me, we had a blast.”

  “Until they lost,” Kate adds, making me chuckle to myself.

  “Yeah, the game went into overtime and then the Bears pulled it out in the end. It sucked. But, we were there.”

  “Oh, you must’ve been freezing.” My mom looks horrified. She’s never understood how anyone can sit in the cold to watch a football game when you can get a front row seat in your own warm living room, watching the game on television.

  “Kate made sure we wore plenty of layers. But, even then it was freezing,” I reply as the four of us make our way into the living room. My mom hurries into the kitchen to make tea.

  We spend the next hour sitting in the living room. My mom chats with Kate as my dad and I watch football. The Packers aren’t playing, but that doesn’t matter to my dad. As time passes, I can see how well Kate and my mom are getting along, so I spend more time focusing on the game. Dad and I don’t talk much, but this is how we bond, over a game. We talk about the bad calls, the players’ stats and predict who’s going to win. It’s how we communicate. I’ve never expected a lot out of my relationship with him. In many ways, this is enough. We have football in common, I know he’s proud of me and that’s plenty.

  My mom, on the other hand, makes up for my lack of a connection with my dad. I always knew I was lucky as a kid. She’s supportive and kind. She pushes me to do my best, but reminds me to be humble and to be conscious of others. She’s the mom that all my buddies wanted to have. She let us hang out at our house after school, playing pool in the basement, munching on snacks she made for us. And when my friends would leave, she’d ask me about my day. And the thing is, she wanted to know the answer. She wanted to talk to me about the girls I thought were cute, or the teachers who were riding my ass. She wanted to know me.

  It’s because of her that I view the world in the way I do. She’s helped to shape my personality, my relationships and my desire to succeed. My dad always expected good grades from me and he expected me to do well in sports just as he had. He expected a lot. But, he didn’t teach me how to do anything. My mom took the time. She taught me long division and how to cook scrambled eggs when I was nine years old. She taught me how to talk to girls and how to impress their moms when I was fourteen. She’s taught me so many things over the years that have shaped who I’ve become. I’m so lucky to have her.

  Kate offers to help prepare dinner and my mom looks impressed. As they walk towards the kitchen, I see her fidgeting with the ring on her finger and my heart sinks. I study her as she glances down at the ring, spinning it slightly. I wish I knew what she was thinking. Is she apprehensive to wear it? Or am I just over-thinking this?

  An hour later, we’re sitting at the dinner table, listeni
ng to my mom’s favorite Christmas album as we dig into the traditional Christmas ham.

  “Mom, Kate, this is delicious,” I say between bites of mashed potatoes. Kate smiles modestly as she takes a bite of a green bean.

  “So, Kate, what is it you’re studying?” my dad asks. I’m actually impressed that he’s taking an interest.

  “I’m studying photography,” she says quietly.

  “She’s very talented,” I add.

  “I’d love to see your work sometime, honey,” my mom says.

  “I would love that, Jane,” Kate replies, blushing slightly.

  “Do you plan to have a business?” my father asks, pushing her further in a way that only he can.

  “I’m not sure yet, but yes, I think I might want to do that,” Kate says. “I love the idea of making a living doing what I love.”

  “That’s the way to do it,” my dad says kindly and I’m shocked at just how much he seems to be warming up to her. “If you love what you do, it doesn’t feel like work.”

  “Evan, honey. Kate told me what she gave you for Christmas. I wish I could’ve seen the look on your face when you opened that,” my mom says.

  “What’d you get, Evan?” my dad asks, looking confused.

  “She bought him a first edition of Lord of the Flies. You remember how much he loved that book. He still has the paperback we bought him when he was twelve.” My dad nods, but I know he hasn’t placed it yet.

  “I’ll never forget the book report you gave, honey,” my mom continues, “you prepared for days, wanting to do the book justice. I was so proud of you. Do you remember that, Charles?”

  “Oh,” my dad looks perplexed, like he had no idea what my favorite book was, but he makes an effort, nodding his head. “Mmm-hmm, yes, I do remember that.” It’s a lie, but I appreciate it nonetheless. He cares the best he can. Kate looks confused at my dad’s reaction. I shake my head as I give her a wink, trying to let her know that his reaction has nothing to do with her or her thoughtful gift. It’s just him.