Day Ten - Mistletoe.
Fortunately, it's not just Madge who has other things on her mind besides work. No one manages to get anything done on the day of the office Christmas party. Their bosses give up and send them home early.
That night, she shows up at the party, her Secret Santa gift stashed in a nondescript shopping bag and her entire body humming with anticipation.
Gale's the first one she sees. "Pretty dress," he says, smiling as he helps her shrug off her coat.
Madge's cheeks turn pink as she smooths a hand down the bodice of her dress. It's cobalt blue and matches her shoes perfectly. "Do you like my heels, too?" she jokes.
They're higher than what she normally wears to work, and while she's still not as tall as Gale, with these heels she comes pretty close.
He straightens his back. They're almost eye to eye. "They're grand," he replies, grinning in approval.
Unfortunately, Delly chooses that moment to appear at Madge's side and take her arm. "There you are! Jo's chatting up the DJ. She's just brilliant, oh my god. Come watch."
Gale laughs good-naturedly. "Sounds like good craic."
Madge can only shoot an apologetic glance back at him as she's whisked away. She can't help thinking this is karma for eating all those strawberry Roses.
Then again, watching Jo flirt with the redheaded DJ is educational. Madge almost feels like she should be taking notes. Not that it would matter anyway; she's more or less given up all her disastrous attempts at flirting.
A warm, fuzzy feeling spreads through her as she reflects on the past few days. Operation Vixen was a fiasco but, at the same time, things between her and Gale have never been better. She called him Daddy, but she also met his siblings, impressed his mother with her eggnog-making skills, and wrangled herself an invitation to the Hawthorne home for Christmas. Beyond that, she and Gale have supported each other through holiday blues and hangovers. Now, more than ever, she knows she has a friend in him.
The party's a laid-back affair. The booze flows freely, and the eggnog Madge contributed is a hit. She almost forgets all about Secret Santa until Wiress gathers their team around her and announces it's time for the big reveal.
Her stomach's in knots. All the snooping around and spying, it all comes down to this.
She's so busy worrying about whether Gale will like her gift, she doesn't realize her name has been called until Delly shakes her shoulder.
There's a funny little smile playing on Wiress's lips as she double-checks the card on the gift. "Madge's Secret Santa is… Gale!"
She's dumbfounded as the present is placed in her arms. She's tempted to pinch herself, in case she's dreaming. Surely it's not possible that she and Gale are giving each other gifts for Secret Santa.
But that's exactly what's happening.
"I can't believe it," she tells Gale, later when he steers her away from the crowd so they can open their presents in peace. "This is such an amazing coincidence."
Well, half of it is. After all, she did hunt Thom down so she could swap with him.
They argue over who should open their present first, and there's no way Madge is going to win that argument against an Irishman so she goes first. Her eyes widen as she sees what's inside.
Gale rubs the back of his neck bashfully. "I know you play piano," he says. "And, well, I reckon you miss having a musical instrument at home, so…"
Her eyes water. She doesn't trust herself to speak.
"They're cheap as chips by themselves, that's why I got you both," he adds hastily. "I mean, there are more expensive ones, but these are good to start with. Not saying you're a beginner of course, or that you even need to play them at all, but—"
"It's perfect," Madge breathes as she clutches the tin whistle to her chest. It's about a foot long, like a recorder. She doesn't care how much it costs; the real gift is the music it's capable of playing. Somehow Gale knows music is the one thing that will make her feel at home, truly at home, here in Dublin.
She looks at him with new eyes. She's always been attracted to Gale Hawthorne, but now she's kind of a little in love with him.
"They're nice souvenirs even if you never use them," Gale goes on to say. "You know what they are, right? That one's kind of like a Celtic flute. And the other one's—"
"A bodhran," she finishes for him as she picks up the hand drum. She has a goofy smile on her face. "Like in The Corrs."
He chuckles. "That's right. Andrea Corr was my first crush, actually."
She lifts an eyebrow. "Was she?"
"Yeah." He grins. "But I got over it."
Before Madge can stop herself, she asks: "So who do you have a crush on now?"
He looks a little surprised at how forward she's being. In all honesty, so is she. "I think…" he begins to say. He pushes the box back toward her. "I think I have another present for you."
Madge's forehead wrinkles in confusion. "Huh?" But then she realizes there's something else, something buried under the shredded red and green filler paper.
She blushes as she pulls out a sprig of mistletoe. "Um."
"I like you, Madge," he blurts out. "I have for a long time. I just, well, I didn't think you would go for me."
She's never heard of anything more ludicrous. "How can you say that?" Has Gale even seen himself? Not to objectify him or anything—he's clearly smart, and he's done so much for his family—but, come on.
"You came here, and it was like you were straight out of those American shows on telly," he tells her. "You know, the posh ones. You're rich, your dad's a politician… I'm a working-class Dub. But these past few days… maybe it's all in my head, but I started thinking I had a chance."
Madge wants to melt into a puddle of happiness. "I thought I was the one who didn't have a chance. I thought I'd never be more than a friend to you."
"After all the chocolate I've stolen for you? Do you know what Delly can do?" His face breaks into a broad grin. "So you like me?"
She has to laugh. "I do," she tells him. "I really do."
An electric current sizzles through her as he takes her hand. "You won't call Human Resources on me for giving you mistletoe?"
Her cheeks are aching from smiling so much. "You ass. You don't even need mistletoe."
"But it's tradition," he protests half-heartedly as she tosses the mistletoe back into the box.
She winds her arms around his neck. "I say we start our own tradition."
His lips are chapped, but there's a lingering taste of eggnog on them, just like in her dream. His eyelashes brush against her cheek; his breath is warm on her skin. It's exhilarating, but at the same time also deeply comforting, like waking up on Christmas morning.
It's not until they emerge, flushed and breathless, from their first kiss that she remembers Gale still hasn't opened his gift. "It's a Christmas onesie," she tells him, embarrassed. "I thought… you had to grow up so fast… you would appreciate a chance to relive your childhood and wear something silly."
There's a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Or you just want me to call you Mammy."
She groans. Will she ever live that down? "You said there was nothing perverted about the word Daddy!"
"There isn't. But let's make a deal. Let's never call each other Mammy, Daddy, baby, anything like that, ever again."
"Deal," she nods. "I'm fine with just Gale and Madge."
"Yeah, about that… Posy is already calling us Gadge."
The fact that she and Gale already have a couple name cracks her up. "Fine. But we shouldn't pronounce it with the A from Gale. We should pronounce it with the A in Madge."
"That's not really fair, is it? You get four letters and I get just the one?" he teases her. "I don't care how we pronounce it. As long as it's you and me."
"As long as it's you and me," she agrees, her eyelids fluttering shut as he leans in for another kiss. "Sounds deadly."