I'm not sure what to say here except for the usual, so I'll say this, maaaan did this chapter take a good while! I had SO MUCH FUN working on this bad boy, and I hope you love it too, whether or not you celebrate this time of year.
I love you all, and now, on with the update! ^^
Chapter Twenty: Festivities
The next morning, December 25th, at around half-past five o'clock, I'm throwing the covers off, in the shower, dressed in festive attire, and out the door before anyone's alarms go off.
Midway Michael Bublé's rendition of "All I Want For Christmas Is You" my phone rings but instead of pulling it out of my pocket I press a button on my Bluetooth headset and answer it through there.
"Hello?"
"Where the fuck you headed off to at the ass crack of dark?"
I laugh at Lionel's quippy query, pressing the gas pedal harder once the intersection's light turns green, "Remember, I'm going to see Kai,"
"I remember, I just didn't think you'd be leaving before the sun. Keep me posted,"
"You know I will,"
Pulling off into a gas station for an energy boost of some kind, I note the other end of the line gradually lull to a dull tone that continues to lessen until all I hear is the low roar of my car's engine. I park while the whoosh of other passing cars comes and goes a fair bit with still no word.
I go in and buy what I want and leave after mouthing a kind 'Merry Christmas' to the lady clerk who returns it with the same smile. I don't like this but I know to not push him. He's more laconic than me but I sense something is eating at him. What's he thinking about?
"I need your help, with something, important," Lionel says, the vocal cut in catching me off guard. For a second I thought the line dropped.
"Of course, anything. Whatcha needin'?"
"I'm planning to propose, to Sinead, tonight," he says nervously, his breath becoming heavy.
"Oh my God, that's amazing! She's gonna flip," I say, voice screeching some as a result of the enthusiastic yelling. A smile automatically stretches my face in two as well, but I ignore the pinches it brings.
"Here's hopin',"
"Come on, you know as well as I do she'll say yes. You got this. Now, what is it you need me to do to help you romance your future wife?"
"Ok," he says as he takes a deep breath, "I've got the ring and the place reserved, but I'm not sure if they've completely processed my payment. I've got some last-minute preparations to finish, will you go to the bank and check for me? It's a cheque and it's under my name, not uncle Rays',"
I start my car, "Already on my way. Anything else?"
"Be my wingman?" he anxiously pleads, going out of character.
"Always and forever, bro," I move the gearshift into Reverse and before backing out, add, "Keep your phone on vibrate, I'll call you back soon,"
"Thanks, man," he says, sounding much more at ease.
"Anytime,"
The call ends there and I'm back on the road, though this time it's in the opposite direction. The joy I'm feeling doesn't end, even on my route to the hospital, and I consider that a good omen.
I pull into the hospital and after signing in, I rush up to the floor Kai's is on. I don't mean to, but I scare the daylights out of the female nurse stood behind Nurse Anderson's desk.
"I'm so sorry, I'm here to see Kai Hiwatari, I'm his son. Nurse Anderson said I'd be, uh, listed,"
She checks the logbook and sweetly tells me I can go once I sterilize and dress. I do so and run off.
"Room 525, room 525," I repeat as I trot my way there.
I find my destination soon enough and brazenly step inside.
"Hey, Kai, it's Gou again. It's Christmas Day, pushing 7AM... Merry Christmas,"
I sit beside the bed, in a chair I assume Nurse Rick left for me. I take in the sight and notice a new addition to the family of tubes and machines. It appears the feeding tube has been removed and is now inserted into his stomach through the right side which has a blaring bruise on it.
I hear footsteps and see that someone is walking down the hall.
"Uh, excuse me, ma'am," I holler while rushing toward the purple clad woman.
"Yes?"
"Something's been added to my, uh, my old man, could you please tell me what it is?"
The redhead with long hair tied up in a bun and husky blue eyes sweetly smiles at me. She reminds me of uncle Max in a way, but I think that's by view of the freckles and her pale, heart-shaped face.
"Of course I can. Call me Selima. I was flown in this morning. I'm a respiratory therapist from Trauma unit 5. That's in uptown Okinawa," she says, eyes gleaming with pride.
It's obvious she loves what she does, as should all people, but we know life doesn't turn out that way for most. Now I ponder over whether Kai enjoys what he does or not, and what was life for him before he became a teacher?
We head back inside and after looking Kai over, she points at his still swollen nose which is crusted over in dried blood.
"This is called a nasogastric tube, NG for short," she lowers her hand, "We pass this through the nose, down through the esophagus, and into the stomach. It's used to remove substances from or add them to it. In Kai's case we're removing excess fluid from his body before it makes him sick,"
"Oh, ok. Is it permanent?"
"No, it's temporary. Should be out in a few days, but we'll see. It's all up to your dad now,"
"Did you know him?" I ask, watching as she proceeds to clean the blood off him with a pocketed packet of portable wet wipes.
"Kai?" Silema pauses, "Oh yeah, for years, up until we hit our twenties I'd see him from time to time. Rick and I went off to medical school and over time we lost touch with most of the friends we had growing up. That happens, unfortunately,"
Her face sours, "I never thought I'd see him like this though, poor guy. It's a surprise to meet you. Never saw him settling down,"
I nod, my lips pursing into a thin line, "I can see that, and it's nice to meet you too,"
She stands tall and says, "Well, I won't take up any more of your time. If you need me I'll be down the hall in room 227. Mr. Andrews needs his liver massaged every few hours,"
Selima leaves and I take back my seat. "I bet that feels loads better. Must've broken your sinus cavities while putting it in. I'm sorry, I know that had to hurt,"
I take a breath and continue my uncle-influenced ramblings, "Guess what? Lionel is going to propose to Sinead tonight. I went to the bank for him and checked some stuff out. All's fine but that's why I'm a tad late... I'm still thin as a toothpick, but my veins are returning to normal, and you'll be happy to know I'm clean and withdrawal free. School had me take a mandated drug test recently because I played hooky so often and I'm good as gold. No booze, heroin, or pot is in my system. I'm finally the way you wanted for me, safe and sober,"
The conversation goes dry, and once reset, my mind shifts back to Lionel and Sinead. "Do you think I'll ever find my soulmate? What if they're already here and I'm just too blind to see'em?" I take his hand, "Ok fine, don't answer that. No no, it's ok, I'm used to it. But I'd like you to squeeze my hand if you enjoy teaching,"
I wait for a time, and with a smile, I ask, "Helloooo in there, did you enjoy teaching us or not?"
There's a set of three raps at the door and upon spinning 'round in the seat, I see Selima standing there.
"Sorry to interrupt, but, time's up,"
Whoa, it's over already? I can tell she feels bad, doesn't want to make me leave, but orders are orders and I have to obey them too, as tempting as it is not to.
"Ok," I turn back to the old man, "Gotta go, I'll try and come back tonight,"
I stand up, but when I go to lift my hand out, I can't. I look down and see that he's got a vice grip on me.
"Aww. Was teaching us that much fun?"
I'm happy about the reaction... But Silema says after stepping to us that this is only a reflex of the stimulated nerve endings. I quickly ignore that, accepting the fairytale inside my head.
"You're a medical professional who witnesses miracles every day, shouldn't you believe that people in a coma can hear you?"
"Based on the way the brain behaves, no, it's illogical,"
I shrug, "If you say so. Kai's the picky type of people person though,"
The grip on my hand gets tighter but it's nothing too painful. For a moment I think everything may fuse or break if left there.
"I'm glad. We enjoyed you too, you're a fun teacher, but I have to go. Blame the staff here not me, ya loony. I promise I'll be back,"
I'm set free after another minute and bid the therapist farewell through a hearty chuckle, feeling oddly rejuvenated. Kai can hear me, and he's reacting! This means he has to be closer to conscious than dead. Things are looking up, folks.
On the way out I grab a bunch of tissue packets from a wicker basket by the elevator. In the parking lot I run into a family making their way in. I'm familiar with them, but they have more to do with Agatha than me. The petit woman in the ever-lowering vehicular wheelchair lift sends me a welcoming smile while waving. I wave back but, once she's grounded, her plump husband happily beckons me over. I gulp, butterflies invading my stomach. Fighting it, I steadily step my way to them.
"'Tis the season to be jolly! Mmmmeeeerry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone. I'm your host, DJ Jammin' a.k.a, Jazzy Jolly! I hope you're all having a cozy day inside... Now for the news of the hour, the trial of Alfred Stephen is finally underway. The first hearing was held at around seven o'clock this morning and concluded several minutes ago, at nine o'clock. More are set to come within the following months, but it's anybody's game. I hope he rots in Hell, but that's just my opinion. Unfortunately, there's still no sign of the last victim, Kai-"
I cut the radio with a hard twist of the knob, moving the old dial to one side and making it audible click into place. The rest of my drive is done in silence because I can't stand any more noise. My head is loud enough as it is without some idiot yelling about something they fail to comprehend. At this point the media is just regurgitating the information. It's been on the local news for a time. It's almost all anyone talks about. It is what it is, I guess.
Pulling into the driveway I get out and head inside, the cold nipping at my uncovered skin.
Immediately I'm surrounded by warmth and the coat from Kai becomes stuffy. I take it off and while hanging it on the wooden rack by the stairs, I'm met with festive, low-volume music on the television and the space heater running.
"I'm home!" I yell out, straightening up my grey, fitted sweater and dark colored blue jeans. I then roll the overly long sleeves up, stopping midway between my hands and elbows. Taking off my shoes, I stroll around the house looking for any sign of company.
Not finding any life on the bottom, or in the shop, I head up the stairs to the top half.
Passing my bedroom, I spot someone familiar sitting on the edge of my bed.
"I may be fatigued, but I know I didn't leave this open," I cooly say, my hands going into my pockets, my stance wide. "Agatha, where's everybody at?"
"Still at the courthouse, talking to reporters, I think," my guest says, her voice meek and croaky as if she's been sobbing her heart out. I have no doubt about that.
"I see,"
My tense frame relaxes, my hands slowly sliding out as I move.
"Here, seems you've run out again," I add while sitting next to her, extending an unopened packet of tissues to her, which she takes with a thankful smile.
"Where do you keep getting all these?" she says, getting it out through some nervous giggles, "It's so weird,"
I give her as smarmy smile, "That's for me to know and you to appreciate," I push myself up from the bed and emphasize, "Also-"
Agatha smiles excitedly, eyes teeming with wonder. My grin goes from playful to genuine, and not a second later I pull out an envelope from my back pocket. "This, is from the Walkins family across town,"
She reaches to take it from me but I jerk it away, keeping it lifted over my shoulder, going serious, "Before I hand this over, I have to know. Are you sure?"
She silently nods, but I don't buy into that.
"Because once it's in your hands and open, there's no going back,"
"I'm positive," she boldly says, not liking my game.
I shift on my feet and finally give the white rectangle to her. I sit back down as I say, "You know, it's not too late. You can still-"
She scowls, looking ready to bite my head off, "I'm not doing that! I'm not denying this baby life because its donor was a literal dick!"
Feeling my temper flare, I respond, "And while I agree with that last part, you don't have to put yourself through this, or that baby through a life with similarities to mine-"
"It's my body, my choice-" she says, yelling louder.
I turn my volume up too, going over her, "And I feel the same way, you know I do, but think about it this way. Do you want to be known as that girl who gave birth to her rapist's baby? A high-profile one no less! The ramifications are as follows-"
She slaps me across the face with an open palm, all but fully knowing it'll shut me up.
When I walk out is when she starts begging for me to come back, and I do so, but only after looking myself over in the mirror. No blood no foul, still, no one likes being hit.
"I'm sorry, Gou-"
"Don't, what's done is done. I pushed you more than intended and this is the result. Let's move on,"
"Remind me, whose son are you again?"
I chuckle at that as I regain my seat beside her, "That's the problem with having two major influences. On any given day you can either be one or the other, but I guess I'm an odd mood-powered mixture of the two, most days... Kind of like how you're stupendously stubborn and beautifully brilliant like your mom, but also subtly sappy and satisfyingly sweet like your dad,"
She goes red in the face at my answer, not wanting me to know how flustered those slyly slipped compliments have made her. Though I mean every word, I wouldn't know what to do if I couldn't tease her from time to time. Her reactions are priceless.
We're not a couple, no, just close friends. She wants to have the baby and then give it up to a family in desperate want of a child. I've tried to convey my side a time or two before but it always circles back to here.
I've been going with her to doctor's appointments and the like because no one else can for one reason or another. Mostly due to the trial, jobs, and seasonal commitments. I'm sure it'll change soon enough, though part of me has other wishes. I've enjoyed learning about her. It's helping me understand my new self some, who all this is molding me into.
Stepping out of my headspace and back into life I observe her, in a mix of amusement and annoyance, attempt to open the fussy envelope that's all but poking her in the eyes.
I clear my throat, making her look up at me. I give her a glower as I pull them out of my front pocket. "Found these in the bathroom," I show them to her, "On the counter, by the sink, again. Makes the third time this week,"
She takes the lavender purple spectacles and dutifully puts them on. This is one argument I am bound and determined to continue winning. She doesn't think the glasses are a necessity for her, but they are. The woman can barely see to drive anymore and is practically night-blind without them. Lighting, its color and direction play a big role in how she interprets the world around her now.
It's only month two of the first trimester and pregnancy vision has already sunk in its teeth. Along with the usual bouts of sickness and hormonal shifts. Let me clarify, I support her in all of this, but I do have my hangups... And it's all because I'm afraid. I'm scared that she'll suffer something incurable like blindness or get more fragile... Or, that I'll lose her the same way we lost my mom.
Agatha successfully gets it open but her face says I may need to read it to her instead because another session has spiraled up. She drops it and dashes for the bathroom. I shadow her and make it just in time to hold her hair back. She pukes into the sink several times, trying to heave in some air in between, and midway through round three she starts crying because she's, well, sick of being sick. Tired of not feeling good in general.
"Your hair's gettin' longer," I kindly say, hoping to make her smile, "It's healthy, looks good on you,"
"Thanks," she says through gagging. This is followed by more violent retching and of course continuous crying.
We're in there for several more minutes before her uterus finally deems us worthy of departure.
"Lay down, over here," I pat my bed and she climbs in opposite me without complaint.
Once she's cozy I check her forehead with the back of my hand and let out a sigh of relief when she doesn't have a fever.
"What a way to spend Christmas, huh?"
She smiles weakly at that, visibly exhausted.
"We're not doing presents until tonight, after dinner, rest,"
I end our conversation there, and once she's closed her eyes, I place her glasses on my dresser and make my way downstairs for some tea or coffee, whichever we have more of. I'm in dire need of a pick-me-up.
The subtle scents of lavender and vanilla tickle my nose as I work, mindlessly making a stronger brew than most in the house are used to.
Agatha has always had long hair but nothing like the length she has now. It went from her upper back to past her butt, in less than a month! Talk about fast follicles.
"Happy Christmas, Gou,"
I turn to Maeryn and smile, "Merry Christmas,"
She can tell I'm not all there, my mind numbly focused on the black coffee running down into the pot.
"Was he indeed there?"
At her question I vigorously nod, focusing extra hard on the liquid to fight the tears. Who would've thought that someone who is usually a source of energy and strength, could at a mention, drain your supplies to absolute zero? It astounds me, morbidly as of late, how profoundly people can affect us and that goes for the varying ways as well.
Uncle knows of course, but I didn't get the chance to tell her or anyone else, and the only reason Lionel knows is because we ran into each other in the middle of the night. I couldn't sleep and he said he wanted some water. One question led to a conversation, some tears, and here we are.
"Gou?"
I blink, falling back into myself, and pivot on my left foot to see Maeryn with her hand on my shoulder.
"I'm sorry,"
"Don't be," she chipperly says, "Par for the course, love,"
My gaze lowers to the floor, but instead of wood I find paper carrier bags. I look at Maeryn, "What did you do?"
"The usual shopping,"
I smile and follow her to help her retrieve the rest of the bags.
Halfway through the day, while Maeryn and I are baking a black forest cake, uncle Max comes home. And, he's not alone, along with him and the expected, three other families come in, cousins included.
Sinead approaches and hugs me once I've put the bowl of batter down by the cylindrical baking pans. She's shaken from her time in the courtroom still so to calm her I give her the hug she needs. I look to Lionel who has smudges and smears of makeup along with other wet stains covering every inch of his wide shoulders. I don't know the full story, and I don't have to, her tears say it all. I let her cry it out but it's not long before I'm distracted by some voices. Ones I haven't heard in months.
Sinead lifts her head and, after looking at them, goes off into Lionel's care and the two head off into another room. While Maeryn continues cooking behind me, the pans going into the oven, I give them my undivided attention.
"What's up?" I ask, not wanting to be rude.
Makoto takes me in, looking me over from the ground up a couple of times before meeting my eyes again. "Nothin' much. Took exams and stuff. What about you?"
"Rebuilding my life," I answer.
"You mean the one you messed up? You do realize this is all your fault, right?" Lin interjects, her golden cat eyes expressing how unhappy she is with being here.
"Really?" I say, letting out an ironic chortle afterward, "I don't exactly recall asking a deadbeat to come back into my life, wanting to be horrendously bullied or potentially murdered, have life-altering secrets hidden from me, or hoping for anyone to get hurt," I calmly state, not letting in on my emotions, "I didn't persuade a man to molest that girl your slit eyes chased off. Nor any other kids including one trying to nap a floor above us. So you tell me?" A seconds-long smirk stretches a corner of my lips. Then I scowl, making my rage evident, "How the hell is this all my fault?!"
Lin and Makoto jump at the bellow of my voice, but that's not what douses my fire. Uncle Ray approaches and proceeds to point to the living room. "You two promised you wouldn't do this, out,"
Once they're out of the room, my ears perk up at the lecture uncle Tyson is drilling them with. I guess the supposed blame is buried in the earth now. Nice to know I'm still loved. Maybe they see what I do, or are aware of Kai and his condition due to uncle? I don't know and don't care to know the reason.
"You doin' alright?" Ray asks, his anger gone.
"Yeah, I'm on the mend,"
Uncle Ray smiles, glad to see that I'm not the mess I used to be.
The rest of the afternoon carries on with the cheer I've wanted to experience the whole month, and even though the adults are partaking to a degree, I and Max are not drinking any alcohol. I thought he would say no when Maeryn asked but to my surprise, and probably his own, he didn't. Instead, he gave a list of rules that we all know and understand to follow.
Agatha comes down around three o'clock and sits in the recliner next to me, appearing rested and less green. I give her a toothy grin hello and she returns it, looking just as bubbly.
"You're here?" Lin asks from her spot on the sofa, Makoto a seat over and looking just as shocked to see her.
Agatha shrinks down and shyly nods, her arms rounding her stomach. She's in the process of showing, but a full time isn't too far away.
Between the four of us, there's a long pause, and then it hits Lin what's going on. They can finally separate truth from fiction it seems.
"Agatha, I'm so sorry,"
While Lin tries to stop her tears, Agatha sweetly says, "Gou's, the reason I'm free. He got the ball rolling by pretending he was out looking for him,"
I rub the back of my head sheepishly, catching sight of the pleased smile Makoto sends me.
"Your dad know?" Makoto asks, eyes on Agatha.
She nods with a timid hum, "He kicked me out because I chose to keep it. I, live in my car, behind the Mizuhara hobby shop,"
"How'd he find out in the first place?" Lin asks, finally able to speak.
"I was talking to Rachel one night, a friend of mine, about the situation, all Mr. Stephen made me do. How he made me single out Mr. Hiwatari because he was cracking down on him and the vice principal. To deter people away from him I was told to lie... Looking back I shouldn't have listened to the lies he told me, but it's a complicated mess. Anyway, dad overheard the call, hung the phone up, and drove us to Mr. Hiwatari's to apologize. At this point I believed Mr. Hiwatari would hurt me, but he didn't. He protected me instead, had me take a test, and now I'm here, pushing three months soon,"
"I know I've made my mistakes but I am a victim of this circumstance too. And yes, Kai is my biological father before either of you even ask. He's currently fightin' for his life in the hospital and only I'm allowed to see him for now. He took bullets to the chest and leg for us, and to sum it up, it ain't lookin' good,"
"Sounds like our Kai's finally come back," Uncle Tyson says, taking the spot between Lin and his boy.
I smirk, "Yeah, he's quite the hero,"
Around half-past five o'clock, supper is served, and all who can take turns carrying the vast and varied dishes into the dining and living room areas. Yes, we have that many people over, and it's a sight to behold. We're having a combination of American and English traditions, meaning, we won't go hungry for the next six months. It's a lot of food.
After eating half my piled platter I trot up the stairs to grab Agatha's glasses, taking notice that she didn't get them on the way down. Coming back, I pull her Autumnal red and brown tresses out of her face and over the back of the chair before placing them on. I then take my seat back beside her and send her a heated side-eye that conveys how tired I am of this redundant game.
"Do you just not see them? 'Cause if that's the case you need to get some thirty-day wear contact lenses or let me customize them to where they'll stick out to you. This is getting old. You're not a child,"
She doesn't say a word, choosing to take a bite of her pineapple and brown sugar glazed slice of ham instead. I face my plate and tuck back into my roast turkey with gravy, a few shepherd's pies, and a mound of sweet potato casserole next to it.
Presents are soon given out and we're all bouncing about for one reason or another despite our bulging bellies.
Once the stockings and bigger gifts are handed out, I turn my gaze to the owner of the home who is currently sitting in a chair brought in from the dining room and loudly laughing at something uncle Tyson said a moment ago.
"Uncle Max?" I say, my voice barely rising over the sea of vocals.
He looks at me, "Yeah?"
"Can I give it to her?" I add excitedly, gesturing to Agatha with my thumb.
He smiles, knowing what I'm getting at, "Yes, go on. I'm surprised you haven't already, Mr. Giddy,"
I smile, trying to hide my shy blush, happy that most are enthralled in their own discussions. Going to Agatha I pluck out a small keyring from my pants pocket and hold it up to her, letting the tiny connected item hang freely.
She goes from the gold brass to Max, mouth agape.
Max smiles and nods as he says, "Yes, it's yours. Take it,"
She opens her hand and I lay it in her palm, closing her elegant fingers around it. At my urging, she's been given a copy of the house key. It didn't take long, maybe a few minutes, for it to be talked over and her living arrangements agreed upon.
She goes over and gives the owner a tear-filled hug, which he returns. He states while doing so that he'd never leave her out in the cold and that cars are for driving, not living in.
At uncle Tyson's drunken 'duda-doodoodoodoodoodoo' rendition of, We Wish You A Merry Christmas the three of us break into booming laughter, the others stopping to figure out what's going on.
By eight o'clock, things are put into motion with Lionel, and I too, ushering everyone outside and into their cars. We all tale Lionel who has Sinead and Maeryn with him. Meanwhile, I have uncle Max and Agatha with me.
In a matter of twenty-ish minutes, we arrive at what looks to be a small, but well-known sweets shop near the park which also owns the connected café.
It's brightly decorated with white lights and fake snow, and the inside lights are on. It appears open, that is, if you overlook the massive Closed sign slapped on the front window.
As the radio predicted there's a frenzied flurry falling, and while stepping out, they decide to delicately dance onto us. One by one we pile in and are led inside by the elderly owner, who Sinead's Nan seems to knows. She walks in with him, all of us in-toe.
We're greeted by heat and 1990s style Country music the moment our feet touch the patterned, pastel tiled floor. Creams and pinks with a splash of black are the color scheme of this place, making it feel old, otherworldly, and far more intimate than one would think.
We take our seats, Agatha and I in one of the round tables stood towards the serving counter. Lin and Makoto are sat at the table beside us, possible ideas about what's afoot in their eyes. I'm not sure where the others are sitting but that's because my eyes are on the man of the hour.
I step up to the renovated jukebox he's looming over.
"Whatcha doin'?" I ask, standing at his right.
"Thinking, and looking for something, shoo,"
I smile and while going, give his shoulder a few firm pats of encouragement.
"What's going on here?" Agatha inquires as I sit down, smiling brightly.
I smirk knowingly, "The start of something good,"
Louder music comes over the intercom, the slow song being one I know well... You're Still the One by Shania Twain.
When I first saw you, I saw love
And the first time you touched me, I felt love
And after all this time
You're still the one I love,
Lionel takes a break and shifts to face the crowd of currently clued-in smiles. He lovingly looks down at Sinead, who is sitting at a table adjacent to the wall-stereo.
mmm, yeah-yeah
"Sinead, come here," he says, eyes fixated on his lover.
Looks like we made it
Look how far we've come, my baby
We mighta took the long way
We knew we'd get there someday
They said, "I bet they'll never make it"
But just look at us holding on
Sinead smiles shyly but her eyes swiftly slide from side to side and back again nervously, "Are you daft, love? No,"
That makes Lionel look to me for help.
We're still together, still going strong
(You're still the one)
You're still the one I run to
The one that I belong to
You're still the one I want for life
(You're still the one)
You're still the one that I love
The only one I dream of
You're still the one I kiss goodnight
"Sinead, you have until the next chorus to get up there, or I'm throwing you at him," I say, fighting the urge to smile wider.
Ain't nothin' better
We beat the odds together
I'm glad we didn't listen
Look at what we would be missin'
"Are you serious? No," Sinead says, completely baffled.
They said, "I bet they'll never make it"
But just look at us holding on
We're still together, still going strong
"Alright," I playfully shout as I get up, making good on my threat, and that makes Sinead move, going into Lionel's hold. I sit back down immediately after, pleased.
(You're still the one)
You're still the one I run to
The one that I belong to
You're still the one I want for life
(You're still the one)
You're still the one that I love
The only one I dream of
You're still the one I kiss goodnight
Sinead and Lionel lock eyes.
You're still the one...
"Sinead Ashley Stephen," he says as he lets her go, his immobility spell cast on her. He gets down on one knee and adds while pulling out a silver, jeweled ring from his pocket.
Yeah (you're still the one)
You're still the one I run to
"... Will you, marry me?"
The one that I belong to
You're still the one I want for life, oh yeah
(You're still the one)
Sinead tears up and nods adamantly while trying to stop her tears, her hands cupping her mouth at the instant joy, "Yes, of course, I will,"
You're still the one that I love
The only one I dream of
You're still the one I kiss goodnight
Lionel stands tall, crying happily too, and they passionately kiss, our cheers and applause quick to follow.
I'm so glad we made it
Look how far we've come, my baby
The song ends, the couple part ways, and Lionel slides the ring on her finger directly after. Agatha and I hug briefly before she and the other women rush over to get a closer look at the ring.
While they do their thing, Lionel and I exchange a quick hug.
"Congrats, man, and good luck. She's a fiesty one,"
"Thanks," Lionel says with a chuckle, the happiest he's ever been.
Come nine o'clock we're all back at uncle Max's place but the atmosphere is still full to the brim with happiness and exuberant energy.
After huggng everyone goodbye and giving well wishes, by half-past ten o'clock, I find myself carrying a long-asleep Agatha upstairs to my room and tucking her into bed. I move the covers up to her shoulders, a smile coming to my tired features.
Rounding the bend of the steps, I inform uncle that I'm going to take the couch. He says that's fine, but is quick to point out that I've taken quite a liking to her company and she to mine, considering I told her she could park her car here and that she's over for dinner or whatever more times than not. I blush while fluffing up the pillows, and say that I'm only doing it to help her through a tough time. Once she's had the baby, close friends or not, I'm certain she won't need me anymore. Uncle just smiles and shakes his head with a breath.
"If you say so," he says, not believing me.
"I do," I snap, not seeing the humor in it.
What's wrong with helping someone in need? Even if they are of the opposite sex? That shouldn't be enough to change the perception of things. Should it? Instead of trying to fight him on it, I zip my lips.
Smiling, uncle Max comes up to me, and with a big hug and tender kiss on the head, he says, "Merry Christmas, Gou. Good night,"
"Merry Christmas, uncle, and good night to you too," I say as he walks off toward the steps.
"I love you," I hear myself say.
"I love you too," he says, momentarily stood still with his hand on the railing.
He goes up and I turn off the overhead light via the switch by the door. I find the couch soon after and plop down, the day catching up with me. What a Christmas.
As I curl up under the blanket left for me, I can't help but feel like I'm forgetting something important, but before I can get up to check, a deep sleep overtakes me.