1913
Grace stood at the stove, stirring the stew. She glanced at the clock and saw that Spot would be home any minute. She glanced out the kitchen window, which overlooked the East River and the Brooklyn Bridge.
They had finished moving into their new apartment a couple months ago.
Grace thought back to the last Christmas Eve – the worst Christmas Eve she'd ever had with Spot.
They'd gotten into a huge fight about the apartment, money, and having kids. Grace had wanted to move to another place, and Spot couldn't see what was wrong with their current place. Grace wanted to use the money she'd made from her endeavors out west, and Spot wanted it to sit in the bank, allowing himself alone to provide for them. Both of them had wanted kids, but despite their efforts, they couldn't. They suspected Grace's abortion had had something to do with it.
Spot had slept on the couch that Christmas Eve, as Grace cried herself to sleep.
After several months, they had finally worked through their problems. Both of them slowly learned to accept that they might not have kids. Spot conceded to using Grace's money to buy a bigger place, so long as the rest of the money was put away for emergency use only.
Working through their problems hadn't been easy, especially with their respective stubbornness. But Grace had high hopes that if last Christmas Eve had been their worst together, her surprise for him tonight would make this their best one together.
The lock turning snapped Grace out of her thoughts.
"Merry Christmas," Spot grinned, walking into the apartment.
"Merry Christmas," Grace grinned, walking over to him. She put her arms around his neck and pressed her lips against his.
Spot held her tight; putting everything he was into the kiss. He moved back barely an inch and rested his forehead against hers.
"I can't tell you how many Christmas Eves I've been wanting to do that," he grinned.
"Oh, I've got a pretty good idea." Grace grinned and gave him one more peck. "Dinner's almost ready."
"Smells great."
"Did you pick up the gifts for William, Joey, and little Grace?" she asked, walking back over to the stove.
Spot nodded and held up a few brown-wrapped packages.
"Perfect," she grinned.
"What time are we heading to Race and Elsie's tomorrow?" he asked.
"Elsie said anytime, so I told her we'd be there around one o'clock."
Spot nodded as he took off his coat and hung it up.
Grace put the lid on the pot and turned down the heat, letting the stew sit.
Spot sat on the couch and Grace walked over and curled up next to him, her head resting on his shoulder.
Out their window, they watched the snowfall into the East River.
"Hell of a view," Spot said. Grace grinned.
"Only one flaw," said Grace. From their window, they could also see the neighborhood where Grace's old brothel was.
"I don't care," said Spot. "You're here with me now. That old house can sit over there and rot for all I care."
Grace chuckled. She was silent for a few beats before she spoke up again. "Sometimes I wonder what our lives would be like if I'd never started working."
Spot was silent for a few beats before he looked down at her. "You remember the Christmas I gave you that necklace?"
Grace's hand instinctively went to her throat, where the small pearl pendant still hung from a thin chain.
"Yeah," she grinned.
"When I gave that to you, I was planning on asking you to be my girl," he said.
Grace looked up at him. "What stopped you?"
Spot shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "I guess I got scared that you'd laugh at me. That you'd say we were just friends, nothing more."
Grace sat up a bit and turned toward him. "I would never have laughed at you," he said. "I was in love with you."
Spot sighed. "I always blamed myself for the trouble you got in."
"You can't blame yourself for that," said Grace. "I made my own choices."
"I know," said Spot. "I guess I always thought I could protect you from anything."
"Don't blame yourself," said Grace. "Besides, I'm here now."
Spot looked at her and grinned. "Yeah you are."
"And I'm never going away," she smiled, snuggling into his side once more. He briefly tightened his arm around her.
They sat in companionable silence, watching the snow for a few more moments before Grace spoke up again.
"Do you believe in miracles?"
"Yes," said Spot without hesitation. Grace looked up at him. "You survived the sinking of the Titanic on your way back to New York. The very night you got back, I managed to find you. I'd call that a miracle."
Grace grinned and nestled her head on his shoulder. Spot rested his cheek against the top of her head.
"What about you?" Spot asked.
"Mm-hmm," Grace nodded.
"What's your miracle?"
Grace was silent for a moment. "Our baby."
It took Spot a moment to process what she had said. His head jerked up and he looked down at her. "What?"
Grace sat up and looked at him, tears in her eyes. "I'm pregnant."
"You're sure?"
Grace nodded.
"What…I mean…how? I thought you couldn't."
Grace shrugged, grinning and crying at once. "I thought I couldn't either."
Spot pulled her into his arms, holding her tight. He buried his face in the base of her neck. Grace held onto him just as tight.
"I love you, Gracie," he said, his voice muffled by her hair.
"I love you too, Patrick."
"Promise me one thing," said Spot.
"Hmm?"
Spot moved his head so his lips were right next to her ear. "We'll tell our kid about Santa Claus before he's five."
Grace giggled. "Agreed."