The Gift: A Short Story in the Unrestrained Series
Page 5
“Very thoughtful, dear,” he said to me, nodding. “Wish I could come with you, pay my respects.”
I nodded, but was too overcome with my own emotion at seeing Drake with tears in his eyes that I couldn’t speak.
“Why is Uncle Drake crying?” Colin whispered to Christine.
“Because he’s happy,” she whispered back.
“I don’t cry when I’m happy,” Colin said, matter-of-fact. “I laugh.”
Drake looked up at that and laughed. “I’m happy,” he said to Colin and rubbed his head affectionately. “Just a sentimental fool.”
Colin shrugged and seemed satisfied, then turned back to his own toy – a radio operated drone, that Heath had flying around the room, knocking into things and causing a bit of a ruckus.
Drake pulled me into his arms and we sat together, our gifts in our hands, and enjoyed the company.
We left my father’s later than I planned for I was feeling like a new woman, my stomach settled and in a good mood from the evening. As we drove back to our apartment on 8th, I sighed in contentment.
I checked my watch – it was after eleven.
“We could go to St. Stanislaus and listen to some Christmas music if you’d like,” Drake said. We’d spoken about it back at my father’s apartment, reminiscing about Christmas when my mother was still alive.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to go, but at that moment, I thought it might be one of the Christmas traditions I’d like to keep up, even if I was no longer a practicing Catholic.
I nodded. “That would be nice.”
And so, we brought in Christmas Day at the cathedral, sitting in the back pews, taking in the glorious flying buttresses, the dark woods of the altar, the gilded balusters, the stained glass and the beautiful voices of the choir as they sang songs from my mother’s homeland.
Christmas morning dawned brightly, the skies clearing and the sunlight falling across the dark hardwoods in our bedroom. I checked the bedside alarm clock and saw that it was close to noon. Drake was still asleep so I slipped out of bed and went to the bathroom, then I went to the kitchen to start coffee. We’d go over to my parents for Christmas dinner, but would spend the day to ourselves.
I stopped and glanced at the Christmas tree in the small living room – there were only two presents under it – one from Drake to me and one from me to Drake – a framed photo of Liam I had prepared while Drake had been away at the hospital checking on his patients.
I hoped he liked it. I was sure he would treasure it and it would be a complete surprise.
I bent down and picked up the gift from Drake and was examining it when I heard his voice.
“Hey, no peeking!” He was dressed in his robe and was standing in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “At least wait for me before you open it.”
I laughed and waited for him to join me on the couch, my own cup of coffee in hand. I took a taste but it suddenly turned my stomach and so I put the cup down and swallowed hard, hoping Drake hadn’t noticed.
He came over and sat beside me, handing me the gift. “Now you can open it.”
I forced a smile and swallowed down my nausea. The wrapping paper was white foil with gold doves on it and the ribbon was gold. I untied the ribbon and removed the paper and frowned. It was a CD and when I turned it over, I saw that it had a picture of Drake playing a guitar in a dark room – maybe O’Riley’s.
“Is this a recording of you playing?”
He nodded. “Ken recorded me and burned the CD. It’s my favorite song.”
I looked up at him, tears in my eyes, for I knew that his music was his last bastion of bachelorhood – the one place I hadn’t been yet other than the night he played for me.
“Can I play it now?” I said, my voice emotional.
“Be my guest,” he said, smiling softly.
I went to the sound system, my hands shaking a bit, and slid the CD into the old CD player.
Soon, the strains of an old Beatles song played over the speakers.
“And I Love Her” – the song he played for me that night so long ago.
I went back to him and sat on his lap, kissing him deeply, my hands holding his face. “I love you so much.”
“And I you,” he said and kissed me again. We sat like that for a few moments and listened to the song.
When it finished, I took my gift and gave it to Drake. He took it gingerly and carefully removed the paper, turning it over and then seeing the image of Liam, his face like a miniature Drake, with clear blue eyes and thick dark lashes meant more for a girl than a boy. His black hair still a bit mussed, despite Maureen’s hasty attempt to smooth it.
“Oh, my God, Kate,” he said, holding it up close, his eyes moving over the image. “How on earth did you get this?”
“I asked Maureen for a picture for you and she agreed.” I didn’t tell him anything else, because he didn’t need to know how upsetting it was to get it.
“It’s amazing,” he said and pulled me into his arms. “It’s the best gift I’ve ever received. Ever.”
I smiled and hugged him tightly. He pulled away and seemed mesmerized by the photo, shaking his head slowly.
“I’m surprised she gave it to you, considering how she feels about me.”
“She’s thankful that you saved Liam’s life.”
“She said that?” he said and turned to me, his eyes wide.
“Yes, of course,” I said. I didn’t add the rest of what she said that day. Drake didn’t need to hear it.
Drake put the picture on the coffee table, standing it up using the built in stand in the frame. “I’d like one for my office. Can we make a copy?”
I nodded.
He pulled me back into his arms and we sat like that for a few moments, enjoying the silence, the warmth from the morning sun, which fell across the floor and onto the sofa.
“Honestly, Kate, this has been the best Christmas ever. Seriously.” He pulled back and looked into my eyes. “I feel as if I have a life now. A real life. Before I met you, I was just living.”
I nodded. “Me, too.”
My eyes were wet and he smiled and leaned in to kiss me. It was then I pulled out the final gift for Drake. A long white box wrapped in a shiny red ribbon.
“Here,” I said, my voice choked. “One more gift.”
Drake frowned. “Hey, you,” he said and took the present. “We agreed only two presents each. Why did you get me another one?”
“It’s for both of us,” I said as he pulled the ribbon off the box.
“Both of us?” he said, his expression one of curiosity now. “A set of gold pens?”
He removed the wrapping and took the lid off. Beneath the lid was a layer of batting, and then he removed that, eager to see what it was.
He picked it up. My pregnancy test.
Positive.
He turned to me and the look in his eyes was all I needed to send me over into full-fledged tears.
“Oh, Kate,” he whispered, his own eyes wet. He pulled me into his arms, his face buried in my neck, and said nothing, squeezing me tighter and tighter.
Nothing needed to be said. Words seemed trivial compared to the emotions I knew we both were feeling and so we sat there in the apartment on 8th Avenue, wrapped in each other’s arms, the noise from the street filtering in under the open window, the church bells ringing in the distance.
THE END
About the Author
S. E. Lund is a writer who lives with her family of humans and pets in a century-old house on a quiet tree-lined street in a small city in Western Canada. She writes erotic, contemporary and paranormal romance.
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