"No." She shakes her head. "No, no, no, no, no."
"You can't say no," he pleads, placing his hand on her shoulder, willing her to agree.
"I said it before and I'll say it again: no." She wiggles away from him, pointing her freshly painted nails in his direction.
"But it's for Christmas."
"Not my Christmas."
"It's for the kids." He gives her a hopeful smile.
"I don't like kids." She puts her hands on her hips, biting her lip.
He smirks. "Liar, liar, pants on fire."
Scoffing, she asks, "What are you? Twelve?"
"At least I'm being honest." He chuckles, grabbing one of the hands from her hips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "Admit it, you love kids."
She closes her eyes, willing herself to fight him off. He can't win every battle-she's Maya Hart and she has a reputation to maintain. "I don't."
"Look me in the eyes and say that."
She opens her eyes, a tiny, but harmless glare pointing in his direction, until his bright eyes and cheeky grin cause her to huff. "I like kids."
"No? Really?" He laughs in mock surprise. "I never would have guessed with the way you are with Auggie and the Minkus twins."
She hits his shoulder. "I could break you."
He smiles at the familiar phrase. "If that's what makes you happy, then I certainly can't wait for it...ma'am." He tips his imaginary cowboy hat and she can't deny the warmth rushing through her at the gesture (marriage is making her soft, she thinks).
She grins, moving closer, wrapping her arms around his waist and looking up into his eyes. Batting her eyelashes, she whispers, "You know what would really make me happy?"
He blushes slightly and she chuckles at the effect she has on him. "You." She leans up to press a tender kiss to his lips. Pulling back just slightly, she adds, "Me." She covers his mouth with hers, smiling against his lips. Then, disentangling herself from his arms, she takes the costume from the counter and tosses it onto the floor. "And no fucking costume."
He pouts, sighing. "You tricked me."
"You had to see that coming." She takes his hands in hers and swings them back and forth. "I don't do costumes."
"You did that one-"
Quickly covering his mouth with her hand, she bites out, "Never to be brought up again." She turns red at the implication, refusing to remove her hand until he agrees to abandon the subject.
"But, seriously. These kids are stuck in the hospital and we have the opportunity to make it better for them-"
She groans. "No."
"Fine." He shrugs and she doesn't like the smirk ghosting across his face. "I didn't want it to have to come to this, but you have given me no choice."
She pales, dropping his hands. "You wouldn't."
"Oh, I would." He grins, crossing his arms over his chest. "We could go to the children's center or I could call Riley and tell her we are available to go Christmas caroling."
"I hate you." She drops her head into her palms, mumbling about how annoying he is.
He chuckles-it's not like he wants to go Christmas caroling from sunup to sundown either. "No you don't."
"Are you sure?"
"You married me, didn't you?" He pulls her into a hug.
"I'm starting to regret that."
Chuckling, he kisses the top of her head. (A rare win for Mr. Friar.)
As Lucas sits outside the bathroom door, he taps a little rhythm on the floor. "Maya, we have to go! I told the hospital we'd be there by noon."
"I am not coming out," she grits out, horrified at her reflection in the mirror. "Why can't you be the good one in the relationship? Why do you have to go and make me a better person, too?"
He shakes his head at her antics. "Because I love you." He hears her grumble behind the door. "And the kids will love it," he says, standing up and trying the door again. Locked.
"Easy for you to say!" She sits on the tiled floor, her head against the wall. "You got the easy end of the deal."
He looks down to his red suit and gloved hands, his puff-ball hat and Santa sack. "How is a beer gut and a white beard better?"
Finally opening the door, she leans against the frame. "First of all, it's Santa. He doesn't have a beer gut. He has a cookies and milk gut." She then motions to her outfit. "And second, this costume is ridiculous."
But he doesn't answer. He's caught up in the downright adorable getup he never expected to see from Maya. From the forest green dress to the pointy shoes, to the belt made of jingle bells and the red hat on her head, she makes quite the elf. She even has her hair in a braid and her makeup overdone to give her rosy cheeks (if I'm going to do this, I'm going to do it right, she had grumbled). In lieu of responding, he simply leans down and presses a tiny kiss to her pinked-up lips.
When he steps back, she whines, "I feel short."
"You are short." She pouts further, melting into his arms.
"Shut up." He shakes his head, rubbing his hands along her back.
"Are you really this unhappy?" He lowers his voice. "We can cancel. I just thought-"
"No, no. I know it's the Huckleberry in you. I'll survive." She pulls back, poking his chest with her finger. "But you owe me. I expect dinner and dessert."
"Whatever you want," he says, smiling (he already has a surprise in the works that she's sure to enjoy).
They're late the pediatric unit (I told you, Maya, he groans), but luckily the unit's not on a time crunch. "Ho, ho, ho," Lucas announces himself, making his presence known. The mobile children are already in the lounge room, sitting excitedly as they wait to meet him, shouts of 'yay' and 'hi, santa' ringing as he enters. "I hear there are kids here who want to see me." Maya tries not to laugh at his deepened voice, but she fails miserably. He turns to Maya, grinning. "And here's Santa's Helper." He points in her direction. "Why are you laughing, Miss Elf?"
Her laughter dies down as the attention focuses on her. She'll get him later for that. "I'm laughing because," she takes a look around the room, trying to find an answer that won't scar the kids for life, "Santa just told me a funny joke. Isn't that right, Santa?" She grins in his direction, her eyes betraying the innocence painted over her face. Looking at the children, she infuses as much enthusiasm as she can into her voice, "Do you guys want to hear it?"
The children nod, smiles gracing their faces as Lucas scrambles to fill the silence. This is going to be a long day…
By two o'clock, all of the children in the lounge have gotten the chance to sit on Santa's lap. Some of the little girls and boys drag Maya into a game of ring-around-the-rosie, followed by coloring some stockings and cutting out snowflakes for the walls. The whispered wishes of getting better and going home break their hearts, but the smile the dress-up brings to the children's faces makes it all worth it. It's the little things, after all, that make all the difference.
"Alright, everyone," a nurse calls from the hallway. "It's time to say goodbye to Santa and his elf." Maya bristles at the reminder (she had managed to forget when she was playing with the kiddos). "They have to see the other children now." There was moaning and groaning-enough to make Maya and Lucas crack another smile-but the kids knew there were other patients in the unit who wanted to see Santa, too. Once the children clear the room and are brought back to their beds, the nurse makes her way back over to the pair. "I'll take you guys to the rooms where the kids are on bedrest." She motions them down the hallway. "I'm sure they'll be excited to see you. They've been waiting patiently." She chuckles. "Or as patiently as any kid can wait."
The trio arrives at the first room quickly, and by the look of the walls, it's clear the little girl has been here for a while. "Do you like art?" Maya asks, taking her time to look at the various paintings and drawings on the wall, forgetting her character for a moment. The girl, Amara, the nurse introduces, nods, yawning. Nevertheless, a smile is still on her tired face. "They're beautiful," Maya says, and they are. The girl clearly has talent.
"Thank you, Miss." She blushes, a little shy.
Maya walks over to her bedside. "Of course." She points to Lucas. "Do you want to say hello to Santa Claus?" Amara nods, prompting Lucas to take a few steps closer. When he reaches her side, he bends down to his knees. "Have you been a good girl this year?" Amara giggles, bobbing her head. "Hmm," he takes out a list, pretending to mull it over. "You are on the 'nice' list this year." He gives her a smile, patting her arm. "And what does Miss Amara want for Christmas?"
She thinks for a moment. "I don't know." She shrugs. "I'm just happy I get to see my Mommy and Daddy and little brother."
"Well that's very sweet of you," Lucas says as Maya gets a little teary-eyed (she's not crying, she insists).
"Anything else?"
"No." Amara folds her hands, a bit too serious for a little girl. "That will make me happy."
They spend the next few minutes talking, about the North Pole, the elves, Amara's interests and her school work, before the nurse mentions that Santa has a few more rooms to visit. He gives Amara a small hug, promising her a good Christmas, before turning toward the door. "Miss Elf?" He motions her to join him. "Are you coming?"
"Um," she hesitates, her hand still enclosed in her little friend's. "Is it alright if I stay here for a while?" She looks toward the nurse.
After a nod of confirmation from Amara, the nurse agrees. "We'll come back around to get you when we're finished."
"Thanks," Maya breathes softly. She turns back to Amara. "Now, where were we?" (And yeah, maybe this trip isn't so bad after all.)
"Still mad at me?" Lucas asks as they drive home, one hand on the wheel and the other holding Maya's.
She rolls her eyes. "I was never mad at you."
"Annoyed, then?" He teases. "Disgruntled, unamused, upset-"
"Did you swallow a thesaurus in the last hour?" She raises her eyebrow in faux concern. "That's not exactly good for your health."
It's his turn to roll his eyes. "Seriously, you okay?"
She turns to look at him, her eyes a little cloudy. "Yeah, I'm good."
He brushes his lips over her wedding ring, enjoying her little exhale of pure bliss. "Well, I'm glad."
"But you still owe me food."
He laughs. "I didn't doubt that for a second." He pulls into their parking spot, then turns off the engine and opens her door.
"You're such a Huckleberry," she chuckles.
"You love it." She remains silent (but yes, she really does). He wraps his arm around her shoulder, his excitement getting the better of him as he pulls her quickly up the stairs.
She huffs about missing the memo of this being a three-legged race, but he just keeps moving them along. Into the elevator, down the hall, to their door, he is practically bouncing out of his skin. Then, placing his hands over her eyes, he unlocks the door.
"And now I'm blind." Maya sighs. "Lucas, I'm blind."
He shakes his head. "Really, Maya?" He chuckles. "Can you just go with it?"
She exhales slowly, "Okay, okay, I'll play nice." She giggles as he leads her further into their apartment. Leaning down, he whispers, "Merry Christmas Eve," and moves his hands from her eyes.
"Lucas," Maya gasps, her eyes widening in awe. She doesn't know how he managed this, he must have had help, but regardless, it is beautiful. The Christmas lights hanging from the ceiling look like fairy trails and the roses dusting the floor only add to the effect. Their tree is alight in the corner, their ornaments twinkling ever so slightly. And a flannel blanket is spread out in front of it, set with soon-to-be-lit candles and chocolate covered strawberries.
"Riley and Farkle helped. Zay and Smackle, too." He blushes slightly, rubbing the back of his neck as he waits for her to react.
Turning in his arms, she leans up to touch his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck. She pulls him closer, communicating without words in the way they do so well. She licks her way into his mouth, moving her hands to his hair and tugging lightly. She wants him closer. Finally, pulling back, she breathes a thank you onto his lips. "What made you do all this?"
He pushes back the hair from her eyes before rubbing his thumb across her cheek. "You." He presses a tiny kiss to her forehead. "I love you," he whispers.
She smiles, a blush creeping up her neck, but she can't say that she minds.
Their Christmas Eve is filled with love, kisses, and laughter. Their Christmas Day is quite the same.
He drinks a little too much eggnog; she drops a little too much food. She laughs at the cowgirl boots he gives her; he laughs to see she got him cowboy boots, too.
But as the laughs die down and the guests filter out, one present is left. Maya stands timid, a small smile on her face. She hands him a tiny picture, simply black and white, that causes him to tear.
And, of course, on the far side of town, Amara also cries some happy tears with her family by her side, a new colored pencil set and easel from Santa and Miss Elf.
It really is the best Christmas ever.
(Merry Christmas to all...and to all a good night.)
Thank you for reading! Comments are MUCH appreciated.