Here's another story from my November writing challenge.
Merry Christmas to everyone celebrating, and a happy final week of the year to anyone who's not! Let's hope for a better 2021! :)
GRATEFUL
Christmas was Sharon's favorite time of year. Growing up, that was always a boisterous family event, which never failed to leave her with happy memories she still cherished dearly to this day. It was hardly a surprise then that once she had children of her own, she made it her mission to make every Christmas just as memorable for them. Circumstances had unfortunately made that task remarkably difficult at times, but never did Sharon let that crush her holiday spirit. Even when their tree was only sparsely decorated and the gifts beneath it modest, her children were guaranteed to feel loved, cherished, and even cheerful.
Those days of hardship were long behind her, and a number of wonderful Christmases had happened since, but this year's celebration somehow felt more special than ever before. It was her and Andy's first Christmas together since getting married, and their first one under the roof of the new house they moved into just a short couple of months ago. They had managed to round up their entire brood for a feast of a dinner, and to both her and Andy's absolute delight, the evening turned into a cacophony of the happiest of noises, easy conversation, roaring laughter and pure fun. Seeing their families blend together so seamlessly was a scene that burned itself into her memory for all eternity, and it made her so incredibly happy. All her ups and downs over the years had led her to this moment, and never before did Christmas feel quite as blessed as it did tonight.
The reason why walked out of the bathroom just then, pulling a T-shirt over his head, completely oblivious to the dreamy gaze with which he was being observed, and even less aware of the thoughts swirling around his wife's head.
When he tugged the material all the way down, pinching its edge between a couple of fingers to stretch and smooth it out, he finally noticed her. The expression on her face, a mix of mirth and pensieveness, was what stopped him in his tracks, and his eyebrows lifting in curiosity, he asked, "What?"
A corner of her lips quirked lazily upward into half a smile. "Tonight was nice," she answered casually.
His eyebrows instantly lowered, giving way to a lopsided smile. "I'm glad you had fun," he told her, moving to sit down on the bed, next to her outstretched legs.
Her own smile widened. "A lot of fun," she corrected.
Andy could tell there was more behind that smile, so he prodded with a questioning, "Yeah?"
"I blame you," she said simply, even shrugging a shoulder.
He chuckled. "You're welcome?" he offered sarcastically.
She smacked a hand across his arm. "I'm serious."
Andy frowned a little, growing serious as well. "You know I haven't done much." He waved a hand randomly through the air. "Ricky was gonna fly down here anyway, and Emily just—"
"And Emily," Sharon interrupted pointedly, "was supposed to get here tomorrow, not yesterday." She squeezed his arm. "I know you paid for the ticket."
"I only paid for the difference," he argued, shrugging. "Besides, you technically did, too."
"I know," Sharon conceded, fully aware of the amazing fact that her and his finances were now shared the same way everything else in their life was. On a near whine though, she added, "She never accepts when I offer."
Andy just drew his shoulders together in a 'no big deal' kind of way. Plane tickets this year had been even more ridiculously overpriced than usual. Flying in tomorrow instead of yesterday saved Emily almost half of her rent money, and that was the only reason why she was initially supposed to arrive later. When he overheard the two talking about it, in particular the part where Emily refused her mother's offer to cover the difference for the earlier flight, he had decided to pester his step-daughter about it himself. Two days it had taken him to finally convince the stubborn woman that he was not taking no for an answer, and even then Emily accepted his offer only on the condition that it be his Christmas present for her. Springing this on Sharon yesterday ended up being an added bonus, and under the Christmas tree, he had still cheekily managed to sneak in another little gift for Emily.
"Anyway," Sharon pushed herself slightly more up, the side of her foot brushing against Andy's lower back, "that's not exactly what I meant."
Andy turned sideways, catching her foot in a hand when she started tapping it rhythmically against him. He ignored her pursed lips as she suppressed a smile, and asked, "Then what did you mean?"
She wiggled her toes, freeing her foot from his hold, then drew both of her knees up until she could rest her chin on them. She missed the way Andy's eyes dropped to the hem of her nightgown, where it had bunched up, revealing the underside of her thighs, and sighed somewhat wistfully. "I was reminded of just how nice this," she flicked a few fingers at him, "felt."
Andy's eyes snapped up to hers. "This?" he questioned, moving his index finger between the two of them, in part confused, in part already smug about what he could guess 'this' meant.
Sharon grabbed his finger, and when she pulled on his hand, he scooted closer to her, allowing her to distractedly inspect each of his digits while she contemplated her answer. "It's been twenty, twenty-five years," she let his hand fall to her barely covered knees, "actually."
"Oh." Whatever smugness he felt dwindled. He tapped his fingers against her knees, succeeding in his attempt to draw her eyes up to his. "Since what?"
"Since my husband," she smiled softly when he instantly grinned dopily, despite her very obviously talking about her former husband in this instance, "and I celebrated a perfect Christmas."
"Well, I didn't have much choice," he wagged an eyebrow at her, not allowing the mood to dip, "not after you beat this thing called 'sense of occasion' into me."
"Oh," she let out on a light-hearted laugh, "I did, didn't I?" She dropped a quick kiss to the hand that rested on her knee, her eyes glittering happily.
He flashed her a bright smile, then hooked his hand behind her naked calves, applying light pressure until she acquiesced his silent request and stretched out her legs again. His hand crept up the side of her leg then, teasingly, but stopped once it reached her thigh. There he squeezed his fingers in between her and the bed, and a little more insistently urged her to fully lie down. On a chuckle, she did as asked, then matched his grin when he crawled over her and loomed above her at eye level.
"Put the fear of God in me if I ever forgot about it, to tell you the truth," he added only half-jokingly, then leaned down to capture her lips.
She laughed into the kiss, but immediately tangled her fingers in his damp hair and responded. A happy sigh escaped her, too, when her senses were invaded by the heady scent that was a mix of his shower gel and his own masculine musk, but she nearly moaned when he relaxed a little and part of his weight pressed against her body. Sometimes she thought she could stay like that forever.
"So," he broke the kiss only to start a slow path of kisses across her jawline, "what happened," his lips reached her earlobe, which he teased with a quick nip before lifting his head completely and finishing his question, "twenty years ago?"
He nearly laughed when she abruptly opened her eyes that had slipped closed over his attentions. "You really want to know that now?" She sounded positively annoyed.
He nodded vigorously, his response quick. "I do." He suddenly stopped nodding, adding a slightly wary, "Unless you don't wanna share?"
Her features instantly softened, and she lifted a hand to caress his cheek affectionately. It never ceased to amaze her how considerate of her and how very patient he was with her. Even now, when she had vowed to share with him everything and nothing, he very rarely demanded things of her, always only gently pried and prodded, forever mindful of boundaries she had long ago decided to forego when it came to him. Then again, when it came to the topic of their respective pasts, they both treaded lightly, not out of fear of being rejected, or one of them simply refusing to share, but more out of worry to open wounds which had taken years to heal.
"I always want to share." She lifted her head briefly to peck his lips. "I just think this story might be a mood killer."
As if the mood had effectively been killed already, Andy crawled off her and dropped on his side next to her. "Because it involves Jack?" he asked rhetorically, propping his head up on an elbow before wagging his eyebrows at her meaningfully. "I'll get you back in the mood afterwards, don't worry."
She giggled. "It's not my mood I'm worried about." Her exasperation would have carried better if her voice wasn't shaking with amusement.
Andy grunted. It wasn't hard for Sharon's ex-husband, whether in person or by mere mention, to rile him up, but he was far too curious to worry about his temper, and quickly implored, "Just tell me, would ya?"
On a laugh, she rolled onto her side, mirroring his position and facing him. "Yes, dear," she said sarcastically, then dove into what was a fond memory despite the years of bitterness that followed.
She awoke to a ruckus coming from the living room. Sleepily, she stretched, then reached for Jack with a smile when she recognized the noise as the scuffle of feet and excited voices of Emily and Ricky. As the noise approached, she squeezed his arm, and mumbled, "Time to get up."
He groaned, and just hid his face in his pillow.
She laughed, then pushed at him, trying to shake him awake. "They're gonna be here any se-"
The door bursting open spectacularly cut her off, and an instant later, Emily squealed, "Wake up, you guys, it's Christmas!"
Before Sharon could even turn toward the door, two little bodies jumped onto their bed, Ricky's connecting painfully with one of her kidneys, Emily's bulldozing into Jack.
"Wake up!" Ricky commanded.
Sharon wrapped her arms tightly around Ricky before he could do any more damage to her internal organs. Jack, however, although perfectly awake now, pretended he was still very much asleep, and merely rolled over, trapping Emily safely beneath him.
She giggled. "Daaaad, you're crushing me!"
He shook his head, seemingly just waking up, and looked at her with a perfectly confused frown. "What are you doing in my bed?" he grumbled.
Emily clasped his face, squeezing his cheeks excitedly. "It's Christmas, Dad!"
He flopped his head down on top of her, crushing her yet again. "Oh, is that today?"
She smacked her small hands across his head. "You're not funny," she admonished even though she laughed.
Jack burrowed his face into Emily's side, tickling her on a growl. When she giggled, he looked at her, and asked, dead serious, "Then why are you laughing?"
Emily tried to roll her eyes in exasperation, but instead dissolved into another fit of laughter. Even Sharon laughed, mostly because that was such a lawyer thing to point out, then reached for Emily, brushing her unruly hair out of her face to look at her. "What time is it?" she asked, when she got her daughter's attention.
Emily shrugged, and answered in a quick mumble indicative of a big fat lie, "I don't know."
Jack peeked over Sharon's shoulder at the clock on her nightstand, then on a groan promptly flopped down on his back.
Sharon snorted. "That early, huh?" she asked, chancing a glance at the clock herself. It was not even 5 am, and she very nearly groaned herself.
Ricky distracted her though by wiggling in her lap, and when she slackened her hold on him, he turned to face her fully. Once he had her attention, he threw her a toothy grin, gave her a wet kiss on her cheek and said, "Mewwy Chwistmas, Mommy!"
"Oh," she clasped his head, touched that no doubt Emily had been practicing that with him, and plopped a loud kiss to his forehead, "Merry Christmas, sweety!"
Emily rolled toward Jack, poking her pointy chin into his arm. "Merry Christmas," she told him.
He swooped her up and onto his chest, hugging her tightly to him. "Merry Christmas, Em," he told her, kissing the top of her head.
She went limp on him for a moment, soaking up his embrace, then turned her head towards Sharon. "Merry Christmas, Mom."
Sharon leaned down, causing Ricky to clutch at her neck and let out a surprised little sound, and kissed Emily on the cheek. "You, too, honey," she told her before sitting up again.
For a few minutes, they merely cuddled. In fact, Ricky was quickly on the verge of falling asleep again, and Sharon suspected her over-enthusiastic daughter woke him up and dragged him out of bed with her. She should scold her for it, but it was Christmas and just this once she was going to let it slide, sure that soon enough Ricky would be old enough to retaliate. There was a far more pressing matter anyway, an elephant in the room that over a shared look of amusement, Sharon and Jack were content to ignore for now. But it grew bigger and bigger, until Emily could not take it anymore.
She was avoiding direct eye contact with either of her parents. Instead she toyed with a loose thread on their blanket, and distractedly bobbed one of her legs up and down Jack's thigh. "So…" she broached carefully, "did we get any presents?"
Ricky perked up when he heard that, and Sharon smiled at the boy's immediate excitement, rubbing a hand soothingly down his back. "Well," she started playfully, "that depends."
Emily frowned at her, her impatient leg coming to a halt mid-air. "On what?"
Jack poked a finger into her side, causing her to look sharply at him. "On whether you were good this year," he told her.
She snuggled into him, buttering him up just in case, but said confidently, "We're always good."
Jack's amused chuckle had Emily shaking on top of him. "Are you sure about that?"
"Yup," Emily said, then added, "I already saw the presents." Immediately realizing what she said, she gave her father a deer-in-headlights look and gasped.
"Oh, is that so?" Sharon inquired ominously, and Emily slowly turned her head to look at her, a guilty expression on her face.
"Well," Emily scrambled for an explanation, pushing off her father's chest, who grunted when she dug an elbow in between his ribs, "I was, uhm, they were… They were just there!"
"Mhm," Jack hummed, tapping the tip of his daughter's nose, "and you just accidentally," he smirked, "on purpose, looked at them?" He tickled her side, and went on, "Counted them?" Another tickle attack. "Inspected them?" And another. "Hmm?"
Sharon briefly worried they might end up having to change the sheets if Jack kept this up and Emily continued to uncontrollably giggle, but catching onto her parents' ribbing at long last, she practically sat on top of her father's hands to stop him, then answered cheekily, "Exactly."
Both Sharon and Jack laughed, and after a quick non-verbal deliberation with his wife, and a decision made, he promptly rolled Emily off of him. Helping her off the bed as well, he tilted his head toward the living room. "Go on then, fish yours and Ricky's out," she could read well enough for that, "and we'll be right behind you."
"Yes!" She kissed him happily, then without further prompting, ran off.
"You wait for me and Dad before opening them!" Sharon yelled after her, then laughed when Ricky weaseled his way out of her lap to go after his sister.
Once both were out of the room, she turned to look at Jack, misery suddenly etched into her face. "5 o'clock?!"
He just laughed and scooted closer to her. "Gets worse each year, doesn't it?"
Sharon let him settle his head in her lap and chuckled before answering on a besotted smile. "I do love how excited they get though."
Jack raised an eyebrow at her, another smirk firmly in place. "Take after their mother."
She pressed her palm into his cheek. "You complaining?"
He grinned, pressing a kiss to her stomach. "Not at all."
She harrumphed, but in amusement, and he took that as permission to climb up her reclined body and kiss her properly. When he drew out a moan in response, he smiled at her. "Merry Christmas, Shar."
Her hand in his hair, she pulled him in for one more kiss. "Merry Christmas," she told him on a smile, then kissed him again, this time longer.
"Mooom!" If they hoped for the kiss to grow into anything better, Emily's high-pitched holler effectively put a stop to that. When an even louder "Daaad!" followed, Jack groaned and let his head fall down on Sharon's shoulder.
"Now I am complaining," he muttered, but only half-heartedly.
Sharon's shaking laughter had him roll off of her, and lean against the headboard next to her on an exaggerated sigh. "They're lucky I love them," he grumbled, then finally got out of bed.
That only made Sharon laugh more, and happily she watched him round the bed, then extend a hand to her. "Come on," he tugged on her when she took his hand. "You know she'll start without us if we don't get moving." When she was on her feet, he drew her close to him, pecking her lips. "We'll finish this later." He drew her in even closer, and kissed her yet again. "Right now I don't wanna miss their faces when they see what we got them."
She wrapped her arms around him, grinning. "Me neither."
But instead of walking to the living room to make sure they didn't miss a thing, they got distracted with another kiss.
Sharon had no idea how long they just stood in the middle of their bedroom lazily making out, but it must have been too long, for this time, a pointed cough in the doorway interrupted them. Letting go of Jack, Sharon took to her toes to look past his shoulder and almost snorted at the sight of their intruder.
Emily stood there, her arms folded across her chest, and a frown that was all Jack set firmly in her delicate little features.
When Jack, too, turned her way, satisfied that she finally had their complete attention, in a stalk that was all Sharon, she approached her parents, took hold of their hands, and started tugging.
"Come on already!"
With Emily now safely in between them, Sharon and Jack could only look at each other and burst out laughing. Obediently though, and definitely knowing what was good for them, they let their daughter finally drag them out of the room.
"We ended up having such a wonderful day," Sharon told Andy, then smiled sadly, "maybe our best ever. We were just so happy. We were so in love, crazy about each other and even crazier about our kids. Nothing else mattered."
When she trailed off on a sad, regretful sigh, Andy dropped his gaze to her hand and reached for it. In a low, sorry voice, he rather stated than asked, "And that was your last happy Christmas together?"
Sharon smiled wistfully, and willed back the tears pooling behind her eyes. "Pretty much. By next Christmas Jack had left. I don't even know where or with whom he spent it." She shrugged, adding sadly, "Nothing was ever the same again."
They did not talk often about their past marriages, and when they did, it was always harder to talk about what initially made them happy in them than about their downfall. It was never easy admitting to themselves, but especially to each other, that there used to be a time in their lives when they were happy with someone else at their side. Andy never begrudged her that past happiness, nor did she begrudge him his, but he always got angry. Not with her, not out of jealousy, but out of his fierce sense of protectiveness that hated her ever going through a period in life during which she felt even remotely rejected, or unloved.
That same anger flashed dangerously in his eyes just now, his nostrils flaring as he attempted to control his temper with a breathing exercise that infuriated him almost equally as much. Then he let go of some of that anger in a single seethingly muttered word.
"Jackass."
Unexpectedly, when Andy's favorite moniker for her ex-husband left his lips, a short, little laugh bubbled out of her. He stared at her in surprise, but she only smiled, and said gently, "What happened happened, Andy. What matters now is that I'm happy again. Happier than ever really." Squeezing the hand wrapped around hers, she added urgently, "You make me happy."
He took a deep calming breath, then shuffled close to her. "And just so you know," he slipped a hand into her hair and pressed their foreheads together. "I have no intention whatsoever to leave. Not a Christmas, an Easter…" he kissed her, "not a forever away from now."
His solemn promise drew even more unbidden tears to her eyes, but as she pressed her eyelids closed in an attempt to push them back, they spilled over anyway.
With a thumb, he immediately brushed them away. "Don't cry," he murmured regretfully.
"I'm trying," she complained tearfully, even managing a small laugh.
He chuckled, then rolled over onto his back, pulling her along with him. He let her settle comfortably on top of him, and secured his arms around her until her tears dried. Only then did he say, "You make me happy, too."
Touched, she almost started crying again. Instead, however, in admonishment, she drummed her fingers across his chest. "Oh, would you stop making me cry?"
He grinned, catching her hand in his. "Not if it's happy tears," he said, kissing her fingertips.
She laughed at the lame joke, then nestled into his chest. A comfortable silence fell over them, made all the more pleasant for Sharon as Andy started running his fingers through her hair.
Eventually, she disturbed the quiet with a random, "Thank you."
Andy's hand stilled, and he looked down at the top of her head. "For what?"
She folded her arms atop his chest, and rested her chin on them. A long beat of renewed silence passed between them, during which she simply stared at him, giving melancholy retrospection free reign. So much time had passed since that last happy Christmas. So much had changed. Not all of those changes were good, many of them were painful, and not voluntary either, but just then, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that all of it was worth it. Thinking of her children, she knew it always was worth it, but right now, maybe it was worth it just a little bit more. It led her to this beautiful moment in time, shared with this incredible man. He had swept her off her feet, and wormed his way into her heart so deeply she could never again imagine her life as alone as it had sometimes felt all those years ago. This right here was everything she wanted now, if not more, and it was nigh impossible to express exactly what she was so thankful for, but she had to make an attempt anyway.
"For making me happy, for caring, for being here." She climbed up his body to reach his face, and kissed him. "Just for being you, and bringing these perfect Christmases along with you."
Clasping her face, for a moment he, too, only looked at her, stroking her cheekbones more affectionately than she recalled him ever doing before. Then he finally smiled, and when he spoke, his voice was somber and tinged with the same emotions that were coursing through her. "I love you, and doing that for you, and you letting me..." He shook his head, no more able than her to properly express himself. "There's nothing else I wanna do for the rest of my life." He pressed his lips tenderly to hers, then, on a slightly pleading note added, "And for that, you don't ever have to thank me."
She managed a touched smile, but her throat closed up with more threatening tears. "Well," she could hardly talk past that lump of emotion, "I'm grateful anyway."
"Merry Christmas, Sharon," he told her then, and when he kissed her this time, there was so much love, and such a softness and devotion in it, that those cursed tears ran down her cheeks anyway.
It did not matter though. If anything they only added to the already intoxicating taste of him, and with equal ardor Sharon kissed him back, melting completely into him and pouring everything she had into the kiss. Soon, they got lost in one another, and in a slow dance of rising passions unwrapped their final Christmas present together, both ultimately most grateful for only one thing; this boundless love between them.
THE END