I smile up at Craig, and he winks back at me.
“We’ve heard so much about you.” Kathy claps her hands in excitement.
I look at Kathy but catch Craig rolling his eyes at his mom before I look away from him. “C’mon mom, don’t embarrass your favorite son.”
She gives him a pointed look and then turns back to me. “He’s my only son, but you probably already know that. Just like I’m sure you know by now that he’s a smartass,” she jokes. “Anyway, please, sit down. Can I get you something to drink?”
“I’m okay, but thank you.”
Lexie speaks up, “I can make you hot chocolate. I’m really good at making hot chocolate.”
“Um, that sounds great,” I tell her, not because I really want hot chocolate, but because I feel like if I say no, I’ll be letting her down. She has one of those faces, like that of an innocent child, that you just don’t want to disappoint.
Craig smiles and sits on the couch right next to me. He takes my hand and I swear he’s just as nervous as I am.
“Actually Craig, could you help your sister… just in case?” his mom asks him.
“Sure.”
Once he walks out of the living room, Kathy smiles at me and there’s an awkward silence for a moment until she speaks again. “Craig’s never brought a girl home before,” she admits.
I’m not really sure what to say to that. “I’ve never been brought home before,” I confess, which sounds stupid. Then I add, “So this is all new to me too.”
Thankfully she smiles and relaxes a little. “Well you don’t have to worry about us. My son loves you and therefore I love you too. I just hope you like us and don’t go running for the hills after dinner.”
I laugh a little, but all I can really think about is that she knows that Craig loves me. My parents know nothing about Craig, and yet Craig’s parents know exactly how serious we are, despite how new it is. I’m a little envious that he has that kind of relationship with them that he feels comfortable enough to share his feelings, especially ones so deep. Would my parents be this warm and inviting towards Craig? Or would they be more like my friends, tolerating him but making a snide remark here and there, to subtly tell him he’s not good enough? Deep down, I know it’d be the latter.
“Lexie can be a lot to handle, especially for people who aren’t used to her. I don’t know how much Craig’s told you about her, but she does have a disability,” Kathy explains.
“He told me a little,” I admit.
“She may seem a little odd, but she’s actually improved quite a bit and we’re still working with her a lot. When she was ten, she still didn’t talk at all. Not one word. Now, at sixteen, it’s like she’s always spoken. You’d never know. She articulates perfectly. She still has the disability in many other ways, though. For instance, she can’t be touched. But at least now, she can tell you that you can’t touch her. We have a great therapist who’s working with her. It’s difficult with her therapist being so far away, but we were able to rent a small apartment out in the city, and Rick and I take Lexie, since Rick works out that way anyway. I always felt bad for leaving Craig for days at a time. I’m sure he’s told you all of this anyway. That’s why I was so grateful that he got into college. He can live there and not be so lonely here. And of course, I’m really glad he has you, Valerie. You make him happy, that I know for sure. I just can’t believe he’s finally bringing a girl home. It makes my heart so happy.”
I didn’t know half of what she just told me and it makes me realize how little I actually know Craig altogether. I know that I love him. I know who he is to me. But I don’t necessarily know who he is to these people; to his family. I don’t know about his past other than what I’ve seen, which is mostly just his past with girls. I knew his parents were gone a lot, but I had no idea why until just now. I’m actually a little embarrassed of how little I know.
“Did Craig tell you we had a scare a couple months back?”
“No,” I reply with true concern.
“Lexie had a meltdown when he left for college. She is so close to him. She took it hard that he was leaving. Even though we’re gone a lot, whenever we’d come home Craig would be here, waiting, usually with some sort of surprise for her. Coming home to an empty house was hard for her. For me too, but more so for her. I can rationalize that being in school is the best thing for Craig, but Lexie can’t. She just thinks he abandoned her. I think she’s finally starting to understand now. But a couple months ago, she called him screaming. And then she stopped talking again. Her mutism went on for two weeks. Craig wanted to come home desperately. But Dr. Colney, that’s Lexie’s therapist, had advised us not to give in to her. And sure enough, she came out of it.”
“Wow. I had no idea. He didn’t tell me.”
“Oh. Maybe I shouldn’t be speaking so openly. I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable.”
“No, you’re not at all. I’m glad you’re sharing,” I assure her. It makes sense that that was going on a couple months back. At the Hansore House party, I knew he was upset about something. The timeline fits. And later, he did admit that it was family stuff. He just didn’t elaborate.
Craig and Lexie walk back into the living room with a couple mugs full of hot chocolate.
“You can drink it,” Lexie tells me, handing me the cup. “It’s the perfect temperature. I always make sure it’s the perfect temperature.”
“Thank you, Lexie.”
Lexie starts to talk about her math class and how she misses it, being on break. She gets into specific details and I just nod and smile politely, although I can’t follow. Math was always my weakest subject. Kathy excuses herself to put the finishing touches on dinner. I ask if I can help but she insists that I relax as her guest. Moments later she announces that it’s ready and we all follow along into the dining room.
It’s a huge spread that looks more like Thanksgiving than Christmas Eve, complete with a turkey and all of the fixings. “This looks amazing, Mrs. Morgan.”
“Please, I told you, call me Kathy,” she insists, “Mrs. Morgan is my mother-in-law,” she fakes a disgusted look while Rick isn’t looking and I can’t help but smile. “Now, before we eat, we have a Christmas Eve family tradition,” she explains. “We go around the table and say what we’re most grateful for at this very moment.”
“It’s also our Thanksgiving tradition,” Craig says sarcastically.
“It should be an every mealtime tradition,” Kathy tells him. Craig just rolls his eyes. “Rick, you want to start?”
“Sure.” He pauses for effect. “I’m grateful at this very moment for the food before us and the people near us.”
“Way to think out of the box, dad,” Craig tells him.
“Ok, smartass, your turn,” he replies with a smirk that mimics his son’s.
“Bad word!” Lexie yells.
No one pays it any attention.
“Okay. Right now, at this very moment, I’m grateful no one’s pulled out any naked baby pictures.”
“Ooooh,” Kathy exclaims, “I forgot all about those, Valerie. We’ll have to get to those after dinner!”
“I would love to see them!” I smile over at Craig, who realizes his mistake in giving his mom the idea.
“Shit. Okay, your turn mom.”
“Bad word!” Lexie yells again. I’ve come to the conclusion that this is a common occurrence, as no one pays it any attention still, nor do they make an effort not to swear.
“Okay, let’s see. Hmm… skip me for now,” she says. “Lexie, you go.”
Lexie brightens. “I am grateful at this very moment that Craig is home and here to stay and will never leave us again!”
I look around nervously, and I can tell by the faces around me that this is going to be a big problem.
Craig speaks up, “Lexie bean, I’m home on break, but I’ll have to go back to school in a couple weeks.”
“No. Here to stay,” she says nonchalantly.
Kathy speaks up ne
xt, “Okay, I know what I’m most grateful for at this very moment. Wine. I’m most grateful for wine,” she says holding up her glass full. We all laugh a little, feeling the mood of the table lightening. “Your turn, Valerie.”
“Mom, she doesn’t have to,” Craig says.
“No, it’s okay,” I tell him, “I want to.” I pause for a moment, nervous that it’ll sound like I’m trying to suck-up, but ultimately I continue. “Okay. At this very moment, I’m most grateful for the Morgan family. I’m grateful for the boy who stole my heart. I’m grateful for his dad, who is totally awesome and let me meet Lady Antebellum. I’m grateful for his mom, who is so kind and welcoming. And I’m grateful for his little sister, who makes the best cup of hot chocolate at the absolute perfect temperature.”
“I always make it the perfect temperature,” Lexie beams.
After dinner, Craig takes me up to his room. No one asks questions or tells him he can’t have a girl in his room. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this was a normal occurrence, him bringing girls up to his room. But I do know better, because his mom had said that I’m the first girl he’s ever brought home. I wish my parents were as laid-back as Craig’s.
Craig shuts the door and closes the distance between us immediately. He starts kissing my neck and it feels like a little bit of heaven, then he moves onto my mouth and I kiss him back for a minute, but then I stop him while I’m still able to think clearly.
“Your mom told me a little bit about Lexie,” I tell him.
“Oh yeah? Like what?” He continues to kiss my neck.
“Like how she didn’t talk for the first ten years of her life. And about how much she missed you when you went away to WSC. About how their gone a lot, too. About her therapist.”
He stops kissing and takes a step back. “You got all of that while we were making hot chocolate?”
“Yeah. Your mom’s really nice. I like her a lot.”
“I’m glad. Now, come here,” he gestures for me to come closer.
“Craig, stop. I’m trying to talk to you.”
He takes a deep breath. “About?”
“About your family. That’s why you brought me here, right? To meet your family?”
“My family wanted you to meet my family.”
“You didn’t want me to meet them?” Before I can even finish that sentence, I can feel the sting of the possible answer deep in my chest. The hurt must register on my face, because I see Craig’s eyes soften.
“It’s not that. It’s just hard for me to talk about them.”
“Even with me?”
“Okay, let’s turn the tables. Tell me all about your parents. Tell me about your relationship with them, the good and the bad parts of it.”
I know he has a point. I’m really not that close with my parents. Therefore, analyzing my relationship with them would be the last thing on my to-do list, especially in front of Craig. But his family seems so much different than mine; so much more loving.
When I don’t say anything in return, Craig tugs at the front of my sweater and playfully pulls me closer to him. With our lips only inches away from each other, he speaks so softly it’s barely above a whisper, coarse and crackly, “Come on, princess, can’t I just enjoy the fact that the girl of my dreams is standing in the middle of my bedroom right now?”
I can’t help it. I can’t resist him. Maybe it’s because I fought the attraction between us for so long, that I just don’t have any more fight left in me. I want to tell him that I feel like I should know about the stuff his mom was telling me, that I should know about it from him. I want to tell him that I want to know everything about him, including his family and his past. But I can’t muster the words when his tongue is gently outlining my bottom lip and I can feel his breathe hot against my skin.
“Girl of your dreams, huh?” I’m able to whisper back.
“Definitely the girl of my dreams,” he responds in a hoarse, serious voice.
Suddenly I can’t remember why I wanted to talk at all.
Until the door opens.
“Lexie, what the hell?
“Bad word!” she yells at him.
Craig hangs his head, shaking it back and forth. Then he takes a deep breath and responds nicer, “Did you need something, Lexie Bean?
“I don’t need anything. But I’d like to ask Valerie a question.”
“Sure, Lexie, ask me anything,” I tell her.
“How do you get your hair to look like that?”
“To look like what?” I ask, unsure what she means.
“Smooth and not wavy like mine.”
“Oh. I use a straightener.”
“Thank you.”
“Can we have some alone time now, Lex?”
“I’d like to ask one more question.”
I smile at her. “Go ahead.”
“What’s a straightener?”
“It’s a device that heats up, like a curling iron, but instead of round, it’s flat.” She just looks at me for a moment, lost in thought. So I add, “Would you like to come over to my house and try it out?”
She smiles wide. “I would love that.”
So Craig takes Lexie and I back to my house. From the moment we step inside my house, Lexie starts to ask me a million questions. “How tall is that ceiling?”, “How many square feet is this room?”, “How do you wash windows that high up?”, “Why do you need two sinks in one bathroom?”, “What’s that?” referring to the towel warmer. I don’t mind the questions though. She’s not annoying about it, just curious. I tell her ‘I don’t know’ more times than I can count and she always moves right on, instead of asking why I don’t know, like a little kid would. I sit her in front of the mirror in the bathroom and I show and explain my hair straightener to her. To be honest, she makes me feel a little stupid because her questions seem so logical and the fact that, not only do I not know the answer, but that I’ve never even thought to ask the question myself, baffles me. Like when she asks how the straightener doesn’t burn right through the tiny fibers of hair. I thought about it for a second and then answered, “I guess hair is, like, really strong.” And then she asked, “But then why does it break so easily?” And then I was back to ‘I don’t know.’
The next hour of sectioning her hair and running the straightener through each section is actually really pleasant. It almost feels like I have a little sister of my own. I imagine what that would feel like, to have someone looking up to you all the time, wanting to be just like you. When I finish, I have her look in the big mirror and I find a smaller mirror with a handle for her to hold behind her head so she can see the back.
“My hair looks so pretty,” she says, “just like yours.” I smile at her and she must have thought it was a huggable moment because she says, “Don’t hug me. You can’t hug me.” And I just nod my head and say “okay.”
When I look over at Craig, he’s smiling too. He’s been extremely quiet for the past hour and I wonder what he’s been thinking. Is he mad that I invited her over here, consequently interrupting our alone time? He doesn’t look mad though. He looks kind of in awe, which is weird, because neither I nor Lexie did anything that unusual, at least I don’t think.
“C’mon, Lex, let’s get you home so Santa doesn’t fly right past our house,” Craig tells her.
“Santa is a mythological creature,” she tells him in return.
“Maybe. But just in case he’s not, I don’t want you to risk it.”
She looks at him skeptically, but then obliges.
I walk them both out and Craig stops in the doorway to lean down and give me a quick kiss. Then he moves his lips to my ear and whispers, “Can I come back?”
I nod yes and watch them leave before turning back to my empty house. I rush upstairs and change into the cutest, not too childish but not too sexy pajamas I can find. I brush out my hair and re-brush my teeth. I clean up a little and then I hear Craig open the front door and walk up the steps.
“You broke into my hou
se again?” I call out.
“I told you, it’s not breaking in when you leave the door unlocked,” he states as he walks up the stairs. He raises an eyebrow when he sees me. “No. Go change.”
“Excuse me?” I try not to smile but I can’t help it.
“Princess, are you trying to torture me? Because you know that I have a hard enough time trying to control myself around you and now you’re seriously going to stand there in… that… and expect me to be good?”
“I’m in my pajamas. I didn’t put lingerie on. Just pajamas.”
“You look sexy as hell and I don’t believe for one minute that you’re not fully aware of it.”
I just roll my eyes at him. “Since its Christmas Eve, do you want your present?”
He raises an eyebrow, and although it’s incredible sexy, I know what he’s thinking.
I roll my eyes again. “Not that.”
He nods once in understanding.
I walk over to my closet and pull out the watch I got him. “I didn’t have time to wrap it,” I tell him as I hand the box over. I watch intently as he opens it. He looks at the watch in awe, but when I tell him that it’s inscribed, that’s when I see his eyes soften to molten liquid. “Val…”
“Actually, I know this is gonna sound weird, but I really hate when you call me by my name now. It feels like you’re mad at me.”
He laughs a little. “Princess,” he says deliberately, “I am, in no way mad at you. This is the best gift I’ve ever received.”
He glides his fingers over the inscription that reads, “You’re my Friday night.” It won’t mean much to anyone who doesn’t know our story, but I know he gets it instantly. It was the song that was playing the night he carried me back to his dorm when I had too much to drink. I only remember bits and pieces, but I remember that. And he surprised me with the concert the night before my birthday. And the lyrics describe him perfectly. He’s always been the one person who could break up the mundane for me. He brought me to get a tattoo for crying out loud. He’s my good time, my Friday night.
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