by Natasha Boyd
The second I walked out of the bedroom, I stopped. All along the stairway railing was the green the artificial pre-lit garland we’d bought. The newel posts where capped with red bows and the sight of them made me smile. The moment I registered what Evan had done, I heard the sounds of Christmas music softly piping through the house. I made my way down the staircase and saw more garlands hung around the front door and as I set foot in the living room, a sigh fell from my lips. I wrapped my arms around myself at the beautiful sight of our tree strung with twinkling, brightly colored lights. It was blank canvas for us to decorate. Snow was falling beautifully on the lake and the sky was bright. My heart surged. It was Christmas Eve and I was with my favorite person in our new home.
“Good morning,” Evan said at my back, his hand on my shoulder.
I spun and pressed a kiss to his lips without a hello and felt him chuckle faintly against my mouth. “How early did you wake up?” I asked.
Evan smiled and caressed my cheek sweetly. “You’re not mad?”
I gaped at him. I wasn’t mad in the slightest. The living room was sparkling, the whole first floor smelled like sweet pumpkin and pine, Bing Crosby was singing—this was like a damn movie. He must’ve spent hours decorating so I could wake up to a beautiful display and then he made me a breakfast on top of that. “Of course not, Evan,” I replied. “It looks amazing in here. And the garland in the foyer and on the stairwell. It’s perfect.”
He dragged a hand through his hair and I noticed the slight waver to his breathing as he took a quick glance at his feet. He almost looked nervous. The only time I’d ever seen a similar look in his eyes was when he’d shown up at my door ready to fight to win me back after I left him in Mexico. He didn’t need to fight. I was his. I’d always been his. From the first time he put a hand on my hip and his mouth to mine. I’d always be Evan Weston’s girl.
“And you made breakfast? You know you don’t have to bribe me for sex,” I teased.
He laughed but his nerves didn’t seem to subside. My stomach suddenly pitched with worry. What was going on? He took my hand and I followed him with ease to where the tree stood by the window. The sun was lighting up the gray sky, the LED lights on the tree lit up the room brightly, and the scent of fresh pine flooded my senses. Evan’s arms encircled my waist as we stared at the tree.
“I was worried you’d be upset I put the lights on without you,” he said into the crook of my neck as he swayed me back and forth.
I chuckled. “I’m perfectly content not having pine needles poking me. That’s a total boy job,” I said, slipping my hands back to skate over his hips seductively.
He let out a little laugh but kept me where I was. “I’m going to get you a muffin and some coffee and we’re going to decorate this tree,” he whispered in my ear.
All I could do was smile and make a little humming noise. His arms left me as he trekked off to the kitchen and I started fishing through the sacks we’d brought home from the store full of ornaments. I laid them out on the coffee table in no particular order and when Evan came back with breakfast and two huge mugs of coffee that he set on an end table in the living room, he was grinning.
“Where do we start?”
I breathed a laugh and stared at the table, which was completely covered in ornaments, and simply shrugged.
“We start at the beginning,” he said. Evan leaned forward and picked up the sand-filled glass bauble I’d chosen for him as a little nod to our first two weeks. He placed it on a branch in the middle of the tree, at just my height and turned to me as I stared at the words written on the surface.
The beach is where my heart is.
Of course my heart was standing right in front of me, gazing at me as though I was the only woman in the world, absently licking his full lips and driving me wild. But I’d always remember that he’d stolen my heart at the beach. He intoxicated me with sun, surf, and sex. One lascivious agreement with a man I didn’t know at all had changed my life completely.
Our story wasn’t PG by any means. We’d probably have to find another way to explain it to our kids one day, but our crazy story would always be my favorite. I knew he was bound to be a chapter in the story of my life the moment I met him, but it didn’t take long for me to realize he was the happily ever after I’d been waiting for.
We started placing the ornaments all around the tree, making note of each one as we did. I’d picked out a lot of plain ones—red and green balls covered in glitter that were pretty but I knew would have no significance in a few years’ time. Eventually I knew we would create a collection the way my parents had. Every year would be a trip down memory lane and every year we would add another memory to the branches.
“What the hell is this?” Evan asked with a laugh as he held up an ornament.
I scoffed at him. “It’s a chili pepper.”
His eyes grew wide and an amused grin still played on his lips. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” I chirped. “Because it was red and green, but kinda different. It reminded me of you. You like spicy food—and you’re hot. Shut up.”
Evan stifled an outburst and placed the chili pepper on a branch before turning to me taking my waist in his hands. “I love it,” he declared firmly.
My mouth twisted, fighting a grin. He kissed me and moved to the coffee table once more for the last ornament. I saw his head drop and his shoulders shake as he sucked in a deep breath.
“We could’ve gone with a theme tree.” He snickered, holding up the traditionally pickle ornament, his white teeth shining brilliantly. “A garden tree. Next year we’ll buy some tomato ornaments and maybe a couple of carrots to go with our pepper and pickle. What do you say, Sassy?” His laugh was infectious and I giggled along with him but I still shoved his arm.
He held his hands up. “I know, I know. Shut the fuck up, Weston.”
I sipped my coffee and my brow rose. “Someday when we have a Christmas party and our drunk friends start talking about finding the pickle, you’ll be glad we bought that.”
I watched as he placed the pickle on the tree and turned to me with tenderness in his eyes. “I’m already glad we bought it. Anything to make you happy.”
Just as I finished the last of my coffee and picked the last bits of muffin from the paper liner it had been baked in, Evan opened the box containing the star.
“I think there’s a ladder in the garage from when the painters were here,” he said as he headed in that direction.
The enthusiasm on his face when he returned, lugging a huge metal ladder over his shoulder, made me chuckle. He set it up beside the tree then extended his hand to help me onto the first step. “Time for the finishing touch.”
I started up the ladder then had to roll my eyes the second he made a noise when I was halfway up. I shot him a look and caught him biting his fist as he got an eye-level view of my ass peeking out of my short robe.
When I reached the top, he steadied the ladder and handed me the star. I’d never done it. Growing up, it was my mom who always put the star on top. I sighed knowing one day our children would have the same thought. After a few tweaks and a little directing from Evan at the other side of the room, the star was perfectly sitting atop our tree.
He helped me down the ladder and caught me by surprise with a deep kiss as soon as my feet planted on the ground. I reared back and gazed at him. He had a shade of worry on his face. It was that same nervousness I thought I’d seen before. Before I could touch his cheek and ask him if he was all right, he spun me around and held onto me while we stared at the tree.
It was stunning. Every ornament glinted in its own way against the bright lights strung along the beautiful branches. The star tied it all together and the snow falling out the window behind it made it all the more picturesque. It was the kind of Christmas everyone hoped for. Beautiful and serene and shared with the one you love.
Evan’s hand pointed at the sand-filled ornament he’d put on the tree first and I heard him let go of
a strangled breath.
“I really love this one,” he said easily.
I hummed happily. “Me too.”
“I have another gift for you,” he whispered slowly.
I pushed myself around in his arms and gaped at him. “Evan! You bought me a house! What more could you possibly think I need?”
His mouth curved into a classic smirk and it made my insides twist with delight and my brain turn to mush. He pulled something out of his pocket and kept it held tightly in his hand. “It’s just another ornament, Sassy, jeez,” he said as he reached over my head to place it on a branch.
My shoulders started to turn to see what it looked like but he stopped me, bracing my arms quickly.
“Look, Danielle,” he started, giving a quick nod to the floor and sucking in a little breath. “I had a pretty lonely life before I met you, full of sadness and regret. But it’s like every glimpse of our future erases one of those dark days I had without you. Falling in love with you has kept me on my toes and shown me how much fun life can be. Every day with you is an adventure. We do things fast and sometimes out of order.” He paused. “But I’m starting to realize that’s just us. And I love it.”
I gulped, my heart pounding in my ears as the light laugh he’d let slip out echoed in my mind. Something about the way his hands rested on my shoulders, firm but with the slightest stifled tremble, made my knees quake.
“Our swift, unwavering, reckless love isn’t something I’m ever going to have enough of,” he continued. “So there’s one thing I wanted to make sure I did by the books.” He smirked and turned me around to face the tree. My eyes focused on the sand-filled ornament and then my breath stuck in my throat when my gaze drifted up two branches. Hanging from a red ribbon, backlit and sparkling in the glow of red, green, and blue lights, was a diamond ring.
I spun around to find him missing from my view. Slowly, I lowered my eyes and saw him bent down on one knee. My hands flew to my mouth and he dropped his head with a laugh.
“You wanna hand me that ornament, Sassy?”
Tears stung the corners of my eyes, but a smile spread across my lips as I reached back for the ring that dangled from the tree. My fingers shook as I handed it to him where he remained kneeling at my feet. I watched carefully as he tugged on the knot in the red ribbon, freeing the ring from its loop.
“This ring is just like this house. There’s no ticking clock on it. There’s no fixed date looming on the calendar. I only want you to know that there’s no future for me that doesn’t include you. This,” he said precisely, holding the sparkling square cut diamond perched on a thin platinum band. “This is merely a symbol—an expression of my commitment to you. To us. But it’s not going to keep me from asking the question.” Evan grinned. “Danielle, will you marry me?”
I couldn’t stop staring at the ring. It was the most beautiful, amazing, terrifying thing I’d ever seen. But the man that held it made it seem less scary. We were fast. And unwavering. And a little reckless. But we were great together. Ward and Weston.
I heard him gulp and suddenly I focused on Evan’s face and saw the panic flooding his expression. Crap. I hadn’t said anything yet. A thick laugh came out of me and I wiped beneath my eyes where a few tears had slipped by. I knew I was going to say yes but my mind was spinning so wildly I couldn’t form the words.
“I don’t care if we get married next month or next decade, I just—” Evan’s voice broke me from my trance and I held my left hand in front of his face, a smile curving my lips as I cut him off.
“Yes. Yes, Evan. I’ll marry you.”
His hazel eyes lit up and he slid the ring onto my finger. The feel of the precious metal against my skin sent a flicker of electricity licking up my spine. It fit perfectly. It felt like it belonged there.
Evan rose and I couldn’t stop myself from tangling my hands behind his head and yanking him to me for a ravenous kiss. He growled against my mouth and a giggle snuck out of me as he embraced me and lifted my feet off the ground. When he set me down, he exhaled and shook his head. I was burning the memory into my mind when he gripped the back of his neck exasperatedly.
“You scared me there for a second,” he breathed.
“Just keeping you on your toes,” I replied in a whisper.
He kissed me softly at first, the suppleness of his lips weakening my will and silencing every thought I had ringing through my mind. I didn’t need to call my mother just yet. Georgia could wait a little while. My cousin Mel would be just as excited in a few hours. For now, the only thing I needed was to kiss the man I intended to marry as the strong winds brought in a snowstorm that would have us wrapped in each other’s arms for a few days with nothing to do but love each other.
Five Christmases later…
I TOOK ANOTHER sip of coffee, zoning out and staring past the sand-filled ornament in front of me to the snow falling outside. My mouth twitched up on one side when I remembered the day Danielle picked that ornament out for our very first tree. It was a little smudged now, the cheap painted words starting to wear down ever so slightly. Surrounding it on the tree were new ornaments. A bright red shining heart that Dani had bought me the first Christmas we were married. A horribly cheesy Santa wearing swim trunks that we picked up at the city markets when we went back to Desire for Ted and Cheryl’s vow renewal a few years ago. Every ornament was a moment in time, a snapshot of our life. This year we added a little footprint stamped in clay, painted blue and marked with a birthdate. Baby’s First Christmas.
The day I bought the house, my hand shook like crazy as I signed the never ending stack of papers. Danielle had given me that same deer in the headlights look she’d given me so many times before when I told her the house belonged to us, but it only took a few days for her to tell me she loved it and that she knew it was our home. Despite both of us conquering our nerves and reservations about the future, nothing could’ve prepared me for all of the joyous memories that would materialize within these walls over the next few years.
It took us about two years to actually move in. Shortly after we said “I do” in front of a small group of loved ones in an intimate ceremony in the backyard overlooking the lake a few summers ago, we started living here full time. I asked her to marry me in the living room and she held up her end of the bargain in the yard. We were in the pool the day I found out I’d been nominated for an Emmy. The mailbox at the end of our driveway held Danielle’s acceptance letter to grad school. And somewhere in this house (though with our tendency to be adventurous it’s unclear in which room), we created our son.
The musical sounds of my wife’s laughter caused me to turn from the tree. As though she knew I was walking her way, Danielle turned, a beaming smile on her face. Little Logan Weston was snug in her lap and the second he turned to me from where he’d been patting his hands on the kitchen island, I knew the reason for Dani’s laughter. His face was covered in a rainbow mess of icing and sprinkles were stuck to his skin. Both he and Danielle were smudged with flour. The island had a spread of cut-out cookies laid out on wax paper for decorating. From the looks of the Pollock-esque trees sitting finished on a platter off to one side, clearly Logan and Danielle had been enjoying themselves.
Dani swiped her forehead with the back of her hand and a little dusting of flour brushed off of her skin. I didn’t want to laugh at the look of exhaustion that sat behind her smiling eyes, but seeing the once uptight, planning-obsessed woman I adored more than anything finally unable to resist our swift, unwavering, reckless, messy life sent my heart soaring.
“Wasn’t this your idea, Weston?” Danielle asked with a tight smile. “You should be the one getting your hands dirty.”
I grinned and pulled up a seat beside her at the countertop. “I’m here. I was just watching the storm,” I said. I reached over and stroked her back. “I’m sorry your mom and dad can’t make it out because of the weather.”
Dani smiled at me, turning her head to one side. “It’s okay. This year it’s ju
st the three of us and that’s perfectly fine by me.”
She repositioned the baby in her lap so he was facing her. I loved watching the way her eyes lit up when she looked at our child. “Did you have fun, bub? Of course you did. Look at that smile,” she cooed, reaching out to tickle Logan’s cheek. He let out a cackle and placed his icing-caked hands on her cheeks, another belly laugh rolling out of him as we both laughed with him.
That laugh of his melted me every time. I reached out and tickled his side, getting yet another quacking giggle. My eyes settled on Danielle and I took a split second to enjoy her beauty, smeared cheeks and all. Maybe eleven months old was a little young for cookie decorating, but just like everything else, I couldn’t wait to jump right in. I couldn’t wait to form our own family traditions.
She stood up and I watched as flour fell from her lap. Dani rolled her eyes at my stifled laughter. She’d recently turned “Shut the fuck up, Weston” into a look to censor herself in front of the baby and she shot that look at me with a smirk. I raised my hands in defeat and stood beside her.
“Say goodnight, Daddy,” she said, holding Logan out to me. I laughed at the sight of the mess he was covered in, but kissed his cheeks and smoothed my hand over his soft hair.
“Night, little man. Love you.”
She hoisted him to her hip and I could tell the bit of exhaustion I’d seen earlier was turning into full-on fatigue.
“Do you want me to—”
“No, I got it,” she said. “I’m gonna give him a quick bath and put him down. It won’t take long.”