For the We Heart It contest. I used four pictures to put this one together: 19, 38, 41, and 48 (randomly selected because I'm weird like that) .?zx=9b1709f019026be5
PenName: Kimmydonn
Title: Christmas Surprise
Rating & Any Needed Warning: PG-13 Fade to black...
Picture Chosen: 19, 38, 41, 48
Word Count: 4034
Pairing: Ben/Angela
Summary: He's been pining for the girl-next-door for years. He finally gets his moment with her and she disappears. Why? What surprises does she bring back with her?
Disclaimer: Characters are Stephenie Meyer's. Photos belong to the people who took them. I own Dennis. Mine Mine Mine. :D
Standing at the railing, I looked out over the yard, gorgeous with brown and yellow foliage dropping from the trees at intervals. The house was grandiose, a testament to the prestige of my family. I would have been happy to live somewhere smaller, less ostentatious, but there it was. I was willing to push my parents, but their money made life too comfortable for me to push them too far. It came with benefits, too.
Crossing my arms and leaning on the rail, I took one of them in. Angela was pretty enough for a magazine. She was quiet, though friendly. She never thought of herself as pretty, but having lived next door to her for two of my two and a half decades, I felt confident in my assessment. She always hid behind her friends or clothes or books, as she did now, trying to keep all that beauty to herself. Well, that wasn't her intention, I was sure, but it was the result. I was happy to have access to the small amount I did.
She noticed me, finally, and pulled her legs underneath her, sitting up. Her creamy dress was rumpled, but the dried leaves fell away, only dust showing they'd ever been there at all. She smiled shyly and waved.
Waving back, I ducked in to grab a book of my own as well as my sunglasses. Thanking the surgery that allowed me to wear any pair I liked now, I put them on and walked barefoot to join her.
"Afternoon," I said with a smile. "What are you reading today?"
"Dracula," she said with a small titter. "I can only read it on sunny days like today."
I chuckled, too, taking the moment to examine her at this reduced distance. She was tall, taller than me, and willowy, graceful. Her parents were only a little less well off than mine, and she had taken ballet for years, giving it up only once she reached high school. I'd heard she was attending Princeton but had finished in the spring and come home for a while. I'd missed her those years, attending MIT myself. I still hadn't finished; I hated the schedule and competition of the place. I'd opted to stretch my degree out over many years instead of the gruelling four most of my classmates were punishing themselves with.
"Did that hurt?" she asked, running a fingertip down my arm.
I shivered at her touch. How long since I'd tried to date her? Five years? Six? Enough that I could definitely try again. I'd wanted Angela since the first time she slipped on the ice on our front walk and I'd caught her, steadying her in my arms. She felt perfect there, and although I'd found many girls that felt good in that place, none was as right as Angela Weber. Her touch always seemed to set me on fire, and this simple one no less than any other.
Sucking in breath, I answered, "A little. At first. It healed pretty fast though. Mom wouldn't talk to me for a month," I said with a snicker. Mom frowned on tattoos, but now, even she couldn't deny the beauty of this one. I'd found an Irezumi artist for it, and his work was amazing. I didn't know the legend of the sea snake he had depicted, but there was no denying its impact.
I held my bare arm, bare to near my shoulder, out so she could see all of it. She traced some of the lines, and I hoped she would trace more, leaning closer...
"It beautiful," she murmured. I hadn't quite realized I'd bent down until she looked up, her nose just under my chin.
"Angela," I murmured, free hand lifting to her cheek.
"Yes, Ben?" she asked, eyes wide and a little startled.
"I know you said we should take a break, but..." I leaned further, brushing my lips on hers.
Her eyes fluttered closed, her hand tightening its grip on my arm.
"Oh, Ben," she breathed. When they opened, her eyes seemed deeper, warmer than ever before, the brown of molten chocolate. "I only... I didn't want..." She started to pull away from me, but I didn't let her, circling an arm around her waist and pulling her onto my lap instead.
"What do you want, Angela?" I murmured into the hair over her ear. "Tell me what you want."
She seemed to quiver in my arms and leaned herself into me, sighing - in relief?
"It wasn't fair to ask you to keep a distance relationship. I never wanted... I never..." She shook a little again. "I only want you, Ben."
My heart felt like it might burst right out of my chest. It had certainly swollen enough to press all the air from my lungs and choke off my voice. "I've always wanted you, Angela," I finally managed to croak out.
She turned in my arms, hands on my chest, to look up at me again, as though my words weren't enough and she needed to see it on my face. Finding what she needed, she kissed me, mouth hot and hungry, wanting what we'd denied each other the summer of our high school graduation, the last time I'd been alone with her. She'd almost said no to me back then. Was it only because she knew we'd have to part ways soon after? That was a relief. In the few months we'd spent together, I'd driven her to every quiet corner I could find in the state, every park, every lake, every mountaintop. Anything to spend time with her, surrounded by beauty. Of course, nothing compared to her, and this yard was as lovely a backdrop for her as any of those. We'd shared many kisses and caresses in those places but never went further. As my hand drifted over her leg, I wondered when she would stop me.
"Ben," she whispered into my ear, teeth pulling lightly on my lobe and making me shiver. "Here?" I started a little. It was the back of our houses, and I knew no one was left in mine.
"Yes, right here." I turned her over, laying her in the blanket of fallen leaves. Trailing kisses down her neck, I made my plan. "I want to see you in the sun. I want to hold you where I've always watched you, always wanted you." My hand crept further under her skirt.
"I've always wanted you, too," she whispered and gasped as I touched her. "God, Ben."
I practically purred at the way she said my name, the way she glowed now. She was perfect. She could be mine.
I shook my head to break the daydream. Months had passed, and I hadn't seen Angela since. I was sulking in the tub, but now the sulking had turned into self-love. Well, I wasn't having anyone else anymore. The girlfriends I'd had between graduation and that afternoon were fine, but since I'd been with Angela, I couldn't think about other women. Occasionally, one would try to hit me up in a bar or coffee shop, but none were hard to brush away, just trying their luck. I'd asked Reverend and Mrs. Weber where she'd gone, but they hadn't been forthcoming, telling me she was visiting her grandparents.
Why had she gone? I would have proposed, if that concerned her. I didn't think it had, although with her father, who could say. My parents didn't seem to think anything of it. The girl-next-door meant nothing to them, not even if she was missing for a year.
Thinking about her, laying on the grass, kissing her pearly white skin, her perfectly round breasts, feeling her beneath me, around me... I remembered the sensation that first time I caught her, that completeness that came from holding her. It was the same feeling when I was inside her, the feeling that I was where I belonged and had everything I could ever want. I was sure that it would become more this time, but my classes had kept me busy the next week, and the week after, she was gone.
Groaning as I pushed myself out of the tub, washing all the evidence away, I dressed slowly, methodically. Everything seemed much drearier without Angela. It was the holidays, and I should be enjoying it. I hadn't been. Like everything else, it seemed hollow and pointless. Flipping the collar of my jacket down and donning gloves, I set out to find a tree for the house. It was the only thing I was contributing to the festivities, so I might as well be about it.
The snow was falling lightly, single flakes drifting on the breeze. I shivered a little but picked up the pace, making my pulse quicken and my limbs a little warmer. As I passed the Weber house, I couldn't help but look to the window. Their tree was already up, though not decorated. Then I saw her, behind it, sitting on the couch with her mother - Angela.
Fighting the urge to run up the stairs and ask where she'd been and why she'd gone, I huddled further into my jacket and tried to ignore her, ignore all the feelings warring inside me. The longer I walked, the more people I passed, the more I knew I couldn't ignore it. I had to tell her how much it had hurt. She deserved to know how much I wanted her, forever. So, before picking out a tree, I picked out a ring, and a necklace for Mom, a watch for Dad... There, Christmas shopping done. Carrying the pale blue bag in one hand, I circled to the lot with the trees.
In previous years, we'd always bought our trees from the same scout troupe, the one I'd been in once upon a time. Their lot was close enough that we could drag the tree home and usually did. I would again today, having left the car behind.
I passed up several rows before finding something I knew Mom would like. Dragging the tree behind me, I glanced again at the Weber house on my way home. This time, Angela stood at the window, and I nodded, smiling to her. She didn't smile back but turned, running away from the window.
I pulled a little harder, feeling the weight of the tree dragging. I didn't get it into the house, leaving it on the steps, before turning and running back to the Webers'. I took the stairs two at a time, nearly wiping out on some ice. Knocking loudly at the door, I held my breath.
"Ben," Reverend Weber greeted me. "It is nice to see you. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas to you," I said, taking a step in the open door, even though he hadn't really invited me. "Is Angela here?" I asked, taking off my gloves.
"No," her mother said in clipped tones. "She is not."
"Really? I was sure I saw her through the window a moment ago." My tone was probably equally frosty, but I didn't like being lied to.
I heard a floorboard creak and looked up, Angela was standing at the top of the stairs. "It's all right. I need to talk to him." Her voice was filled with sorrow, desolate. What was wrong?
"Of course, dear," her mother said, stroking her arm as she descended. "Is he asleep? Should I go up there?"
"He's asleep," Angela told her, hugging her mother and her father. "Come in, Ben." She took a seat on the couch near the tree, where I'd seen her with her mother earlier.
"Where did you go?" It wasn't what I wanted to ask, but it was the first thing that came out. My butt hadn't even reached the upholstery before it was blurted. I grimaced as I sat. "Sorry." I thought to try starting again. "Merry Christmas, Angela. It's very good to see you again."
That seemed to have a worse reaction. She'd stiffened at the question, her face hardening, but now she burst into tears, covering her face with her hands.
I put my arms around her, pulling her to my chest. She felt so right there, so warm. She sobbed a few more times before managing to speak. "I... I'm sorry. I couldn't... You don't... I'm sorry, Ben. I'm sorry."
I stroked her straight dark hair and kissed the top of her head. "I'm just so glad you're back," I said honestly. Eventually, I would learn where she had gone and why, but it was far more important having her in my arms and keeping her there. That thought took my hand from her hair and put it in the blue bag. "In fact," I said, pushing her away enough to sit on her own. I slid from the couch to my knee. "I want you to stay. This is sudden, and I don't expect an answer right away; I can't let you go again without knowing. I love you, Angela, and I want you to be my wife." I opened the box, revealing the diamond cluster. "Please, marry me?"
She burst into tears again, but this time she fled as well. I closed the box, not entirely surprised, but very disappointed. I dropped the box into the bag, hearing it clatter against the other two and not really caring. I had a hand on the knob of the door when Reverend Weber stopped me.
"What did you say to her?" he asked, anger heating his voice.
"I asked her to marry me," I mumbled, pulling open the door. "Good day." The thud behind me was just short of a slam. Dragging my feet in a shuffle, I entered my own house, lugging the evergreen behind me. Leaving it in a puddle of frost and water on the floor, I went to my room, not caring what Mom or anyone else said when they found it.
"Benjamin, telephone," my mother called. That was odd. Almost everyone called my cell. I hadn't checked it in days though. I didn't want to talk to anyone.
"Take a message," I yelled back.
"It's Angela," she called sweetly.
Did I want to talk to her? I hadn't since I'd proposed. Maybe this would be an official no. Trudging down the stairs, I scowled when I took the phone.
"Hello?" I asked in the same bitter voice.
"Can I come over?" she asked. "There's something I need to tell you."
"Sure," I said with a sigh. "Break my heart in person."
I heard a small sound, but couldn't be sure what it was. "I'll be over in an hour then."
"Bye."
My mother was looking at me, arms crossed on her chest. "That good, was it? Well, your father and I have some more shopping to do. Try not to burn the house while we're gone."
I ground my teeth. She hadn't said that when I was kid. She only said it now because I'd ruined the hardwood where I'd left the tree. I still didn't care. Instead, I stomped to the den where an elliptical and bike were. Peeling off my shirt, I started pedalling, trying to work out the anger before Angela came. It wasn't her fault I'd sprung a proposal on her. It wasn't her fault she didn't love me. It was her fault she didn't tell me when she left in the first place. My speed increased, my blood pumping faster. It was her fault that I felt betrayed.
The bell rang, and I slammed the door of the den as I left, glad Mom wasn't home to hear it. Wiping sweat from my face with a hand – it was sweat, not tears – I opened the front door.
My heart stopped. It was Angela, beautiful as ever, but she held something I didn't expect.
"Uh, come in," I mumbled, stepping back without taking my eyes from the bundle in her arms. The breathing bundle with red cheeks from the cold and a patch of dark hair under a blue hat.
"Thank you," she said as the door closed behind her. She held the baby tighter, closer to her face. I still had nothing to say, completely flabbergasted.
She shrugged out of her coat one-handed and set a diaper bag on the floor beside her. Then she did the same for the baby. I still had a hand on the knob when she looked to me again. "Say something?"
"Uh, Merry Christmas?" My brain was still stuck. "Yours?" I asked, pointing rudely.
Her face fell, her nose dipping toward the boy. Well, he was dressed in blue, so I guessed boy. "Yes," she almost sobbed.
The sorrow of her voice broke the hard anger I'd tried to shield myself with, a shield that had been almost disarmed by the surprise of the baby. "Shhh, Angela," I whispered, putting arms around her and the baby. If anything she felt even better there now. How was that possible? "It's alright. You'll be a great mom."
The sobs continued. "He's... yours." The words were strangled by tears and gasping, but I made them out. I backed up slightly, startled.
"Mine?" I still held her by the arms, and she nodded vigorously, a tear hanging from her nose. "But we... mine?" I asked again, looking again. Did he look like me? I couldn't tell.
"It only takes once," she reminded me. Her voice was quiet, nearly a squeak.
I seized her in a hug, feeling her and the baby in my arms, understanding now why they felt so good there. "This was why you left? You foolish woman. Why can't you let me decide what I can and can't take? I would have happily had you, even at a distance, and I will gladly take you and your baby. I'm sorry I didn't make my love clearer. You should never have had to do any of this alone." My head was tucked into her neck, and I felt her face drop to my shoulder, her loose hair falling onto my back. I felt dampness as she cried quietly.
The baby in her arms, kicked at us, squirming. We were probably squishing him. I rose first, not letting go of her. "I think he wants some room," I said.
She choked on a chuckle. "I imagine he does. You've never had such a tight hug, have you, Dennis?" she asked the baby who seemed to smile a little. It was hard to tell, like he couldn't quite manage a smile yet.
"Dennis?" I asked and she nodded. "How old is he," I asked, looking over the tiny bundle. One hand left her waist to touch his pebbly cheek, tiny white raised dots covering his skin.
"Four months. The weather isn't helping his skin. Neither is the tooth."
"Tooth?" I asked.
She grinned. "On the bottom, here." Angela pulled back Dennis' bottom lip a little, and I saw a tiny speck of white on bright red gums. I stared in amazement. "And how are you dirty again already, little man?" she asked him, nuzzling his face with her own and making him squawk. It sounded happy.
"Oh, uh, what can I do to help?" I grabbed at the bag still at her feet.
"There's a mat rolled on the side. Lay that on the floor, and I can do the rest."
As instructed, I knelt, laying the mat flat, then stayed on my knees, watching her. The baby clothes seemed to be connected everywhere, The shirt fastened between his legs, so it needed to be undone; the pants included socks, so he was bare from the waist down once she removed that. The smell was obvious as soon as she did. How had I missed it before? I started to gag, and Angela laughed at me.
"This isn't even the worst." Using wet napkins she cleaned his bottom, lifting his legs. All the while, Dennis just lay relatively still, sucking on a fist, occasionally trying to turn one way or the other. Folding up the dirty diaper and napkins together, Angela rose to dispose of them.
"Doesn't he need another?" I asked.
"Yes, but he won't make another mess right away." Her voice grew fainter as she wandered farther away, leaving me with the baby.
"So I'm your Daddy," I mused, watching his brown eyes survey me. He pulled the fist from his mouth and stretched it out to me, rolling toward me.
After watching Angela stop him from doing so, I put a hand to his shoulder, rolling him back. Then I slipped one hand under his head and another beneath bare legs, scooping the tiny bundle into my own arms. He wasn't as light as I'd expected, but so small. He watched me, fist in mouth again, bare toes stretching as he arched a foot.
"You two look good together," Angela murmured from the doorway. I hadn't heard or seen her return, too wrapped up in my son – our son.
"I wish you hadn't left," I told her, looking at her across the room. "I wish you'd stayed and let me help you."
She approached slowly. "I wish I had, too. I wish I hadn't listened to my parents telling me that yours wouldn't let you ruin your reputation. My mother insisted no man your age was ready to be a father. My father recommended spending my pregnancy in solitude with my grandparents, to 'contemplate the future.'" She imitated her father very well, and I had to chuckle. Then she sighed. "They were easy to believe. You were always there but hadn't told me you always would be. You'd showed me, sometimes, but... when you weren't around..." She started to choke up, and I wrapped and arm around her waist before she could turn or run.
"I'm sorry. If I'd known, I would have skipped class. Hell, I would have dropped class." Kissing her cheek, I added, "You were the only thing important to me." Still holding her cheek, I pulled her face down to mine and met her lips, trying to show without words how much I meant it.
"I love you, Ben," she murmured. "And if the offer still stands, I'd love to be your wife."
My heart soared, fluttering about the top of my chest, making me feel like I might fly right off the floor. I hugged her tight to my side and kissed her more deeply. "Of course it stands. Thank you, Angela." She giggled, and it was answered by a coo from Dennis. Her nose dipped to rub against hers, then rose to kiss me.
The door opening startled us both.
"Oh, hello Angela," Dad said as he stepped in, shaking slush from his gaters. "Merry Christmas."
"Benjamin!" my mother nearly shrieked. "What are you holding?"
"A Christmas present. I'd like you to meet Dennis. Angela's and my son."
Dad had to catch Mom as she collapsed.