She'd been in bed since eleven, but it feels as though her head only hit the pillow moments ago when Kate is roused out of a deep sleep by a hand on her shoulder, rubbing gentle circles against her t-shirt.
"Good morning, Kate," her husband whispers. "Wake up. I made coffee."
She opens her eyes a crack, expecting to be assaulted by a stream of bright sunlight. Instead, she's met with the darkness of the middle of the night, the dim glow of the moon shining through the open curtains of their bedroom window.
"What time is it?" she murmurs, a yawn punctuating the end of her sentence.
"Five thirty AM."
"Rick…" she sighs, opening her eyes wider. "It's Saturday. I don't have to work until this afternoon. Why are you waking me up so early?"
"I have a surprise for you," he answers. She can just see the outline of his face in the darkness, and he smiles, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. He is way too cheery this early in the morning.
When she tells him so, he simply smiles. "You, too, could be this happy. All it takes is some coffee. And one of the perks of having a studio apartment is that the kitchen, and therefore the coffee, is just a few feet away."
Rick kisses her forehead, then straightens, the floorboards creaking underneath his feet as he walks toward the kitchen area. "Come on, Mrs. Rodgers. Up and at 'em," he calls.
Nothing good happens before six AM. That's Kate's motto, anyway, and she's tempted to ignore her husband's wake-up call and cuddle back under the covers, waiting until a decent hour to get out of bed. Then again, the last time he had a surprise for her, it turned out better than she could have imagined. She should give this one a chance, too.
With a yawn, Kate peels back the blankets, shivering at the chill in the air and balking completely when her bare feet hit the cold floor. They've had the heat on since they arrived home last night, Christmas tree in tow, but they don't have a bed frame, so the cold from the hardwood floor creeps up through their mattress while they sleep. The anticipation her feet touching the cold wooden planks is enough to make Kate dread getting out of bed every morning.
She slips on a pair of socks and pulls a sweater over her head before she shuffles into the kitchen, still shivering. Rick wastes no time in handing her a steaming mug, and she mumbles her thanks, sitting in one of the folding chairs at the card table as she takes her first sip. The coffee tastes different today- much different- but it's delicious. She takes another sip, trying to place the new flavor.
"I added some hot chocolate mix," Rick says, sitting beside her at the table. "So we're having homemade mochas."
"Babe, it's really good, but you seriously woke me up at five thirty on a Saturday for this?"
He laughs. "Of course not. The coffee is just an added bonus."
"Okay, good," Kate murmurs, taking another sip from her mug. "Because I thought I was going to have to go check out my training weapon from the academy and shoot you with it."
"Well, that would certainly put you on the naughty list," he remarks, giving a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.
"You're already on the naughty list for waking me up so early," Kate retorts.
"Touché."
A comfortable silence settles between them as they drink their coffee. Kate's not much of a talker in the mornings- not until she's had at least one cup of coffee- and Rick has come to respect that, giving her the space and silence she needs to start her day. It's one of the things she loves about him- he's so attentive; able to figure out just what she needs without asking.
Eventually, he stands, pouring each of them a bowl of off-brand Lucky Charms. The cereal isn't Kate's choice- she prefers normal, adult cereal, like Chex- but it was his turn to choose the last time they went grocery shopping. At least it wasn't Reese's Puffs this time. She can pick out the marshmallows in the Lucky Charms if she doesn't want them- her husband will gladly eat them for her- but there's no way to avoid the sugary sweetness of Reese's Puffs.
The moment she's finished her cereal, Rick whisks her bowl and spoon away, sending her off to get dressed, still refusing to tell her where he's taking her.
"But I don't know how to dress," Kate says in an attempt to wheedle some information out of her husband. "I don't know if I need to bundle up, or dress for a formal event, or…"
"Dress casual, but warm," Rick says, his eyes twinkling. "I know what you're doing. Nice try."
She sticks her tongue out at him in a playful gesture, then disappears into the bathroom as he cleans up their breakfast dishes. Once Kate is dressed and ready, they put on their coats and gloves. Rick turns the heater off while Kate fills their matching travel mugs with coffee, and they step out into the hallway together, locking the front door behind them. It's just after six forty-five when they step outside, icy temperatures and a cold wind greeting them.
"Please tell me we aren't walking the whole way there," Kate says, her teeth chattering after walking just a few feet.
Her husband wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side to share his body heat as he steers her down the sidewalk. "Nope. Subway," he says. "It's not too easy to walk to Midtown from Queens, anyway."
"Midtown?" she asks. "Why are we going to Manhattan?"
"Because that's where the surprise is, of course," he answers, grinning.
She rolls her eyes, sighing, and they settle into a comfortable silence as they walk the two blocks to the subway station, watching as the rising sun begins to streak shades of orange and pink across the sky. A few other people are out this early, but the sidewalk isn't very crowded. The subway station isn't, either, and they're able to duck into the waiting car and find seats quickly, settling down for the twenty-five minute ride to Manhattan.
Much to her annoyance, he won't even tell her which stop is theirs. She huffs and shifts her body towards the window, forcing herself to keep her eyes away from her husband. Kate likes control; she likes having a plan, and her husband knows that complete spontaneity drives her insane- especially when it involves her having to wake up at a ridiculously early hour. It's sweet, though, what he's doing, so she tries to temper her frustration.
He lets her sulk for a few minutes, silently taking sips of his coffee while she studies his reflection in the window of their subway car. He's so patient with her, always doing whatever he can to bring her joy, and a wave of guilt washes over her as she realizes how she's treating him.
"I'm sorry I'm grumpy," she says with a sigh, turning back towards him. "I'm just tired."
Rick offers a reassuring smile, moving his free hand to rest on her knee. "Remember when we bought these?"
He's nodding toward her travel cup, and she nods in return, smiling. "I can't believe it's been three years."
They'd only been dating for a month when they exchanged their first Christmas gifts, laughing when they realized they'd bought each other the exact same present: a tall travel mug in light blue, hers with a large cursive K, and his with an R.
"I think that's when I realized that you were the girl for me," Rick says, leaning towards her. "I'd never met anyone so completely in sync with me."
"You'd never met anyone whose love of coffee rivaled yours, either," she jokes, elbowing his side playfully.
"I still haven't forgiven you for getting the last of the mocha the day we met," he says, grinning. "There I was at the campus coffee shop, waiting in line for coffee behind this very tall girl with beautiful hair, and she orders a mocha. When I get up to the counter, I order the same thing, only to be told by the barista that the young lady in front of me had gotten the last of the mocha sauce. They were completely out. And did you share?"
"Of course not," Kate answers, quirking an eyebrow. "But I did buy you coffee the next day, remember? I atoned for my mistake."
"You did," Rick confirms. "And I've never let you buy the coffee ever since. So I suppose you are forgiven."
She picks his hand up from her knee and laces her fingers through his. "We're going to grow old together, Rick. And we're going to tell the story of how we met to our kids someday."
His face falls when she mentions children, and a wave of guilt washes over her. They avoid talking about children as an unspoken rule; they both want a baby, want to be parents, but know they can't support a child in their current financial situation. They've agreed that they won't start trying until Rick has a full-time job, be it as a published author or in another field, but that doesn't necessarily stop them from longing for what they can't have now.
"Babe, I'm sorry," she breathes, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.
"No, Kate. Don't be," he says, raising his head. "We shouldn't avoid talking about it, just because it makes us sad. Because it won't be like this forever… we're going to make it out of this. We're going to get our happy ending."
There he goes again, expressing guilt over their current situation and promising that it will be "better" someday. She hates it when he does this; hates it when he places the blame on himself for the way they're living, as though they have something to be ashamed of.
"Rick." She turns to face him, fixing him with a firm look. "We don't have to have a nice apartment, or good jobs, or anything like that to have a happy ending. I got my happy ending when I married you. And the rest of it can only get better from here."
He smiles, leaning in to rest his forehead against hers. "And that's why I married you," he murmurs.
Kate raises her fingers to his cheek, cupping his face in her hand, and leans in toward him. Their noses bump awkwardly, and she giggles as their bodies rock together with the movement of the train. Just as their lips touch, the intercom announces the stop at the Herald Square station, and he starts and pulls away, his eyes wide.
"This is our stop!" he says, standing as the train begins to slow. "Come on, Kate." He holds out a hand to help her up, and she takes it, allowing him to steady her as the car sways to a stop.
They exit the subway car and push their way through the crowd of people waiting on the platform, climbing the stairs up to the outside world. The sun is high in the sky now, illuminating the Manhattan skyline, and Kate blinks, smiling. She's always loved Manhattan. There's a beauty in the chaos; in the rows of tall buildings, crowds of people bustling around, even in the pigeons that are constantly in the way. It's home, where she grew up, and someday, she and Rick will live here, too.
The Empire State Building is only a block away, but he grabs her hand and tugs her in the opposite direction, pulling her through the crowd. He stops when they reach the front windows of Macy's, and they stand still for a moment, marveling at the elaborate display behind the glass. This window displays a snowy cityscape, similar to New York itself, where Santa's sleigh has landed atop one of the buildings, the hooves of his eight reindeer prancing.
"Are we going to look at all of the windows?" Kate asks, turning towards Rick.
"We will on our way back, if you want to," he answers with a smile. "But right now, we're going inside."
"Are we shopping?"
"No," he laughs, tugging her toward the front doors. "We're going to see Santa."
She suddenly understands why he woke her up so early - the Macy's Santaland experience is renowned as one of the best in the country, and the line often gets long, causing a wait that can last over an hour. He wants to beat the crowd by getting there the moment they open.
Her husband is taking her to see Santa Claus, and judging by the look on his face, he's as excited as a kid on Christmas morning.
And if she's being honest with herself, she's every bit as excited as he is.
They giggle as they make their way up to the eighth floor, and their eyes light up as they take in the elaborate snowy winter wonderland that awaits them when they arrive,. A candy cane archway even welcomes them to Santaland.
"Every step you take is a step closer to Santa," Rick reads from the sign hanging at the entrance.
"Come on," Kate says with a smile, pulling him down the carpeted walkway.
A few families are waiting in line in front of them, but they're only in line for fifteen minutes before they reach Santa. The moment the worker elf ushers them toward Santa, Rick runs to the older man, immediately sitting in his lap. Kate opens her mouth, preparing to scold him, but Santa laughs, gesturing for Kate to join them. Soon they're both sitting on Santa's lap, each perched on one of the man's knees.
Santa ignores the fact that they're both grownups and asks their names after they have their picture taken, acting genuinely interested in them. When he asks what they want for Christmas, they both pause, and Kate's breath hitches in her throat.
She knows exactly what she wants for Christmas, but it would require a miracle, at best. Because of that, it's something she won't wish for aloud; won't wish for where Rick can hear her.
Kate gestures for her husband to plug his ears, leaning close enough for the wiry hairs of Santa's beard to tickle her cheek when Rick obeys. "I want my husband to be an author," she whispers in the man's ear. "I want him to get a publisher and be an author."
Santa smiles, giving a hearty laugh, and Rick unplugs his ears. "Well, that's quite the wish, my dear," Santa says, his voice deep and gentle.
"I know it would take a miracle, but…"
"Do you believe in miracles, Kate?"
Santa's question catches her off guard, and she pauses, thinking. The older man studies her, his blue eyes twinkling behind his half-moon glasses, and she knows that she can't lie to him.
"I don't know," she admits.
"It's Christmas, my dear," Santa says, patting her shoulder. "Believe in the miracle of Christmas. Anything can happen."
It's a cliché sentiment; one that's expressed in the Hallmark Channel movies she and her mom love to marathon and poke fun at every Christmas. But this man is so sincere, and even if it's just for Rick's sake, and for the sake of his dream, she wants to believe. "I'll try," she promises.
"Very good," Santa says, offering a jolly smile.
Rick insists that Kate cover her ears as he makes his wish, too, and Santa's laugh booms this time, garnering the attention of all of the people waiting in line. "Ho ho, my boy," the man says. "I certainly hope your wish comes true. And yours, too, Kate."
They climb off of his lap, and he pulls a card out of his coat pocket, passing it to Kate. "Give this to the elves at the photo desk," he says, his voice quiet so that only they can hear. "Your picture is on me."
He's given them a photo voucher, enabling them to pick up their official photo with Santa for free, and tears spring to Kate's eyes as she offers her genuine thanks to the man.
"Have a very merry Christmas, you two," Santa replies, a twinkle in his eyes. "Believe in the miracle of the season."
Kate squeezes her husband's hand as they leave Santa behind, walking toward the photo desk. "Please tell me that you didn't wish for a free picture," she murmurs.
He laughs, sobering a moment later. "Of course not," Rick answers. "I wished for something even better."
He doesn't elaborate, and she doesn't ask him to. Instead, their wishes will stay a secret for now, in hopes that they'll both get their miracles this Christmas.