DISCLAIMER: I do not own Sky High, Christmas, shopping malls, etcetera etcetera blah blah…
Comments, even negative ones, are all very welcome.
"I just want to let you know that it's okay not to get me anything." Layla smiled, speaking honestly. Truthfully, she knew that she'd love anything Warren gave her as a Christmas present, but the last thing she wanted was for someone she loved as much as Warren to be so pressured by the idea of 'the perfect gift' that Christmastime became less magical.
Okay, 'magical' was a cheesy word, but she couldn't think of any other way to describe it. For the first time in years Layla felt alive. Will had made her feel that way in the beginning of their relationship, but it faded. She hoped and prayed that what she felt for Warren wouldn't fade.
"I did." Warren dog-eared the page of his book, setting it aside so he could pay attention to Layla.
"You did what?" Layla scrunched her nose in confusion.
"I did get you something." He shifted his weight so he could look her in the eyes. She smiled brightly when he told her that and that caused Warren to return the smile, albeit in a slightly more subtle way.
"I got you something, too. I just hope you don't think it's stupid or lame or--"
"Nah," Warren shrugged. "I mean, I wouldn't tell you if I thought it was stupid…" He trailed off with a smirk and Layla laughed lightly at his honesty while she kept her own insecurities to herself. Would he think that it was incredibly lame?
"I guess we'll have to wait until tomorrow to see how lame our presents are." Layla sighed a little.
"About that…" Warren's smile faded and he hesitated, only bringing it up because he had to get it in the open. Layla looked at him expectantly with a curious look on her face.
"I always spend Christmas Eve with my mother. I'm sort of all she's got and she's… Well, my mother and you are all I really have right now. I can't abandon her like that." Layla's eyes lit up a bit. She'd realized that Warren was a loner and that he hardly ever spoke to anyone other than her, but she never realized that he thought of her as being all that significant. Now, he was saying that were it not for her and his mother he would be alone. She couldn't ask him to change a tradition like that. It wouldn't be right.
"Well…" She paused for a second. "You could both come visit me and my mother. The more the merrier, right?" Layla's smile was one of hope. Christmas would be so perfect if she could have both her mother and Warren by her side. Meeting the elusive Mrs. Peace would be wonderful, too.
"I'll run it by her and see what she says." Warren looked at Layla with a smile.
"I don't know, Layla." Her mother stood at the sink, half paying attention to her daughter's pleas and half paying attention to the sweet potatoes she was cutting up for Christmas Eve dinner.
"Please…?" Layla put on a pout - Something that she, as a fairly non-manipulative girl, hardly ever used to get things to go her way.
"You two have only been together for a few months and--"
"A few months is a long time!" Layla protested loudly. Her mother shook her head, continuing to chop the sweet potatoes into tiny chunks.
"Have you asked his mother about it?" Ms. Jones put the potatoes into a casserole dish and paid full attention to her daughter who seemed to be one step away from getting on her knees and begging. Layla was usually a fairly level-headed girl. It was unlike her to press her mother so hard for anything.
"Well, I wanted to ask you first…" She trailed off, pleading with her big brown eyes.
"It's fine with me." She sighed, finally giving in to her daughter who was now smiling and squealing with delight.
"I guess that means I'm cooking for four, now." Ms. Jones firmly planted her hands on her hips, looking all over the kitchen. Lucky for them that they would be prepared to serve food for more than just Layla and her mother. It was always a tradition for their two-person family to cook lots and lots of food. They baked at least five dozen cookies, made Ms. Jones famous cinnamon apple sweet potato caserole, and they were always stocked with fresh veggies, either store bought or grown by Layla in her vegetable garden just outside, so they had plenty of things to munch on.
"I'm going to go ask them in person!" Layla chirped happily, practically bouncing out the front door and down a few blocks toward the Paper Lantern. This Christmas was shaping up to be the best one ever.
Layla knocked on the apartment door and, impatiently, kept knocking like an annoying little kid. She had to talk to Warren that very minute. Waiting was just plain torture. She only stopped after hearing a few curse words muttered by someone inside who was obviously annoyed with the persistent knocking. Her big grin faded a bit, turning into just a hint of a smile, but her grin reappeared in full force when the door was opened.
"Hey!" She flung her arms around Warren the moment she saw him. He awkwardly patted her on the back, not knowing where all of her cheeriness was coming from.
"Hey…" He smirked a little. She could be so odd sometimes, but what was truly strange was the fact that he liked those idiosyncrasies and tolerated her sometimes wacky behavior. Warren took a step into his apartment so Layla could enter.
She smiled, looking all around the cozy home of the Peace family. There was a noticeable lack of personal effects like mementos or photographs of Warren and/or his parents hanging about, but the walls were covered in a diverse array of art. Some were photographs of natural beauty, some were sketches, and some were real, oil-painted paintings. It seemed like a nice place even if it was a little small.
"Is your mother home?" Layla looked up at Warren, dying to spill the good news.
"Yeah, she's--" He pointed down the short hallway that led to the two bedrooms of the apartment, but was cut off by his mom.
"Warren," She raised her voice a bit so he could hear her clearly a room away. "Who's at the door, Warren?"
A statuesque goddess of a woman breezed out of her boudoir and walked into the living room. Layla's eyes widened a little bit. Warren's mother was beautiful, stunning, aesthetically gifted… Whatever you chose to call her, it all meant the same. She had exotic features - dark hair, dark brown eyes that could easily be confused as being black pools, tanned skin, and lovely lips. She was the sort of woman grown men chase after.
"Mrs. Peace…?" Layla tilted her head, suddenly overcome with shyness. "Hi, I'm--" Ms. Peace raised a hand with a smile, interrupting Layla.
"You're Layla, yes?" Layla responded with a timid smile and a nod. "Well, you're just like I imagined you would be. Come, let's sit down." Warren's mother gestured for the two of them to sit on the various mismatched pieces of furniture which decorated their small living room. The wooden chair Layla chose as her seat groaned under the pressure of her weight, causing an immediate uneasiness for the poor redhead.
"Oh, it's old, but it won't break, dear." Ms. Peace smiled kindly, reassuring Layla that she wouldn't damage any of the furniture. Their things were old, but they had a sort of durability that most old things don't have. Obviously, the Peace family chose function over form. It was the practical thing to do.
"I, um…" Layla began hesitantly, wanting to give a good impression. "I wanted to know if you would both like to join my mother and I for Christmas Eve dinner. She makes the best pumpkin pie and, well…" She sighed lightly. "I was just hoping that you would both come over."
Ms. Peace looked over at her son, taking in his response to Layla's invitation before voicing her own answer. He only looked at her, unsure of what to say. She then looked to Layla with a friendly smile.
"If you're certain that we wouldn't be intruding or bothering your family with our presence, then yes, I would love to join you." She nodded and looked over to Warren to see if her decision had gone over well with him. He only smiled pleasantly, knowing that Christmas would be even better when shared with more loved ones.
"Alright," Layla rushed from room to room, straightening out anything she perceived as being messy or disorganized. Everything had to be perfect. This wasn't just about spending Christmas Eve with her boyfriend. It was all about first impressions. She had to seem like a composed lady who Ms. Peace wouldn't mind seeing her son with. In reality, Ms. Peace already thought that Layla was charming, but Layla wasn't satisfied with that.
"I think everything is ready." She sighed, smiling at her mother who was arranging the various serving dishes full of fine vegetarian cuisine around the dining room. Her mother looked her over, laughing a little bit which caused Layla's smile to vanish.
"What is it? I've got-- Oh…" She looked down with a giggle. Layla was still wearing her fuzzy slippers.
"I'll keep my eye out for our guests, Layla. You get some real shoes on." Her mother pecked her on the forehead and went back to setting the table.
Layla smiled, shaking her head at her obsession over something that, in the long run, might have been considered trivial. She ran up the stairs and into her room slipping her feet out of the comfortable slippers and into a pair of slightly formal flat-soled shoes.
She looked around the bedroom, trying to figure out where she'd hidden Warren's present, when it hit her - She hadn't gotten Ms. Peace anything for Christmas. Her jaw dropped for a moment, leaving her open-mouthed and wondering how she could fix the situation. Warren and she would be at the house at any minute. She looked around, trying to see if she owned anything nice enough to serve as a re-gift, but she saw nothing that would be right for the exotic woman she'd met only the day before.
Then it hit her. Layla reached for her gardenia bonsai, her favorite decoration in all of the house, and plucked a flower from it. She ran downstairs as fast as she could, grabbing a rather large coffee mug from the kitchen cabinets. She took a little bit of potting soil from her mother's plants on the windowsill and sprinkled it into the mug. Layla then planted the gardenia flower, making it take root and grow in the strange makeshift pot. She looked at the tiny plant with all of its fragrant white flowers and smiled. That would be an excellent gift.