Cal Lightman could cook.
Gillian marveled at the sight of Cal bustling around the kitchen. It was Christmas Eve, and Cal was happier than she'd seen him in a very long time. He'd busied himself with not only cooking, but his house of "organized chaos" was now sparkling clean. And was that—yes, that was Christmas music playing in the background.
She stood in the doorway—he still hadn't noticed her presence. She smiled devilishly—well, as devilishly as Gillian Foster could smile that is. There were very few opportunities to surprise Cal Lightman, and she planned to take full advantage of this one. She slipped off her shoes and tip-toed across the kitchen. Cal was rummaging in an overhead cabinet when she reached him. Gillian wrapped her arms around his waist, and whispered in his ear. "Looking for something?"
Cal Lightman jumped about a foot in the air.
Gillian was shaking with laughter as he turned around. "You think that's funny do you?" he asked, faking anger. Gillian was still laughing too hard to form a coherent sentence. "You—your face—got—you," was all she managed to say. "You mean to tell me that I've been slaving over your dinner, and the only thing you can think about is how to scare the daylights out of me?" he demanded, suppressing a smile.
"Oh Cal, be a good sport." she pouted, and Cal finally cracked a smile. "Well played love," he said, pulling her into a hug. "I'm glad you're here."
She smiled. "Where's Emily?" she asked.
"Upstairs. She's cleaning her room—or at least clearing a path through it. I told her that you're bunking in with her tonight, and she's ecstatic."
Right on cue, Emily came bouncing down the stairs. Her eyes lit up as she saw Gillian standing in the kitchen, and she rushed forward to hug her. "Gillian!" she exclaimed. Gillian returned the embrace with just as much enthusiasm. She loved Emily as if she were her own daughter.
"Blimey," said Cal, "It sure doesn't take much to make you girls happy." He rolled his eyes. "Em, why don't you help Gill take her things up to your room? Dinner will be ready soon."
Still bouncing, Emily grabbed Gillian's overnight bag, and the two of them climbed the stairs, whispering conspiratorially.
As soon as they were out of sight, Cal allowed himself to crack a smile. He was going to get to spend Christmas with the two most important people in his world.
It was getting late. Scenes from "It's A Wonderful Life" flashed across the television, but no one was paying the movie much attention any more.
Cal and Emily had fought over the right to sit next to Gillian, and being the peacemaker that she was, Gillian squeezed in the middle, ending their pointless debate. But now, hours later, Emily lay sleeping, snuggled up to Gillian, and Gillian reclined backwards against Cal's warm chest.
Cal was afraid to move, not knowing whether or not Gillian was awake. So he spent a few moments in quiet reflection. He marveled at how this felt like being a part of a family again. It had been so long. He mulled over Emily's only Christmas request.
"So, Em, what's on the list this year? New clothes? A puppy? Her eyes lit up at the mention of a dog. Scratch that—I'm not getting you a puppy. Too much trouble." Emily pretended to mull it over, a smile creeping across her face. "Okay then, no puppy. What about –" Cal interrupted her. "Nothing that's gonna cost me a fortune, and nothing that poops," he said firmly. "So, I can have anything else then?" she asked. His eyebrows narrowed. She was up to something. "Anything else that isn't drugs, alcohol, tight jeans, or a body piercing," he amended, trying to cover all the bases. "Promise?" she asked, smiling innocently. Cal hesitated, knowing he was going to regret this. "Promise."
Emily squealed. "Okay, dad. For my Christmas present, I want you to kiss Gillian, ON THE LIPS, for more than two seconds." She grinned triumphantly.
She caught him off guard. "No." he replied."Why not dad? I know you want to, and you promised!" she exclaimed. "You promised." That last line was a bit more of an accusation. Cal was caught in that proverbial rock and a hard place. "We'll discuss this later," said Cal, and the look he shot Emily was enough to convince her to drop it for now.
He'd invited Gillian to spend Christmas with them because he knew that otherwise she'd be spending it alone. And Gillian was not the type to exclude from Christmas. She thrived on the decorating, the baking, and the festivity in the air. And she was the most giving person he knew. On a holiday centered around giving, it was perfectly fitting to spend it with Gillian.
Emily shifted around in her sleep, bringing Cal back to reality. And apparently Gillian too. She turned her head around to face Cal, who seemed not to have noticed that the closing credits were scrolling across the screen. "Cal," she whispered.
Her hair brushed across his chin and he inhaled her scent. She smelled wonderful. And he was loathe to move. But reluctantly, he sat up and helped Gillian wake Emily. "You girls go on up," he said, "I'll be there in a minute."
He checked to make sure all of the doors were locked, as was his nightly habit, and went to retrieve the hidden presents and arrange them under the tree. Five for Emily, three for Gillian, and a couple for various other people. Emily was far past the age of believing in Santa, but he still loved seeing her delight when a whole pile of presents "appeared" under the tree on Christmas morning.
Gillian was still awake when she heard his footsteps coming up the stairs. He knocked quietly at the door. "Come in," came her soft reply. He opened the door to find her sitting up, reading, while Emily dozed on the far side of the bed. "She asleep?" he asked, motioning to Emily. "I think so." She replied.
Cal crossed the room to Emily's side of the bed and bent over, pulling her hair out of her face, and kissing her lightly on the forehead. "Goodnight love."
Gillian smiled. Cal might be a lot of things—but she knew that his favorite role was that of a father. And he was a damn good one in her professional opinion.
He crossed back over to her and she motioned for him to sit down on the edge of the bed. Setting her book down, she took his hand in hers. "Thank you," she said softly, and Cal could see her gratitude flow all the way up to her eyes. "No problem love, we're happy to have you. I'd be a miserable sod if I let you spend Christmas alone."
The double meaning to their conversation did not go unnoticed to either of them. "Thank you," she had said. Thank you for being there for me, for letting me be a part of your family, for caring for me like I know you do." He'd replied with "No problem love, we're happy to have you. I'd be a miserable sod if I let you spend Christmas alone. I'm always happy to have you around. I'd be a miserable man if I let you spend your life alone. Spend it with me."
She rested her hand on his chest, just above his heart, and caressed his face with the other. Her breath hitched in her throat. She leaned forward, putting her arms around his shoulders, resting her head on his back. "Thank you," she said again, "You don't know how much you both mean to me." She pulled back, resting her forehead against his. She could hear his breath come in short, ragged bursts. He tilted her chin upward, searching her face.
And all he saw was love.
He leaned into her, kissing the corner of her mouth as he had so often done before. Gillian closed her eyes. He moved to her lips, brushing them with a soft kiss. And before she could return it, his lips were gone. He didn't want to push it, didn't want to lose her trust.
"Goodnight love," he whispered, and with a lingering kiss to her forehead, he was gone.
Many thanks to everyone who has reviewed. Each little bit of encouragement is inspiring. Hope you enjoyed this last chapter—a longer one, seeing as I will be out of town, and unable to update until at least Sunday. More reviews=Sunday update.
Next up: Christmas Day, perhaps with a bit of mistletoe thrown in.
~AW
