Here is the second part. :)
4 years earlier –Christmas Eve
It's official. I'm as big as a house. Not a normal house by any means, I'm talking about "Rich and famous Beverly Hills Mansion" here. My shoes don't fit, I can't sleep anymore and I'm horny as hell! Of course Damon loves that part but the sleepless nights because I can't find a comfortable position trouble him too. He's nervous and even though he won't admit it, I can feel it. This baby wants out like yesterday. My due date was December 15th. Nine days of living on your toes and with a suitcase by the door do crazy things to one's temper. I yelled at Mrs. Flowers yesterday, she is the nicest lady in this town and I yelled at her because she wouldn't walk fast enough through the Walmart aisles. On the bright side Jenna's brownies are already baked and ready to go for tomorrow.
I'm wrapping the last of the presents when I hear Damon's car pull up on the drive way. I'm like a Labradoodle when it comes to him getting home. I jump up and down and race to the door and if I didn't look like the fruit basket Damon knows I am, I would wiggle my tail too. I'm in the middle of said Labradoodle process when I feel a sudden whoosh of water leave my body. Damon opens the door and finds me petrified in the hall standing over a puddle of clear fluid. He must have seen the surprise beaming through my eyes because he took one look at me and after a quite colorful demonstration of his vocabulary. Grabbed the suitcase by the door and raced back to the car.
I stay standing there staring after him like an idiot thinking he might have forgotten about me when he comes back running through the door, picks me up like I weigh nothing (Actually this part is a complete lie. He grunted, an actual grunt when he picked me up) and carried me to the car.
The four longest hours of my life later we are cuddled in my hospital bed. Me, Damon and our beautiful baby girl, Arielle. My eyelids are heavy but I tried to stay awake because I know real bliss like this is rare. Damon is singing to Arielle. More like humming. I can hear the tune clearly "Have yourself, a merry little Christmas…" I love Judy Garland's version of the song but not even on her best day could she have sung this with the absolute devotion Damon sings it to our daughter with. I fall asleep like that, Arielle gentle breaths, Damon's humming and the warmth of happiness surrounding me.
I stand before the Salvatore family grave and open the picnic basket again. I pull out Arielle's ratty old pink blanket, the same one she practically sweeps the house with and cover the grave with it. I start taking out pictures of our year. Little knick knacks, Arielle's "Daddy's Princess" bib. I arrange everything so that there's enough space to sit. I read the words on the grave stone and they register in my mind like the first time.
Two Years Earlier- Christmas Day
We are so late for Stefan and Caroline's Christmas Luncheon there's no point in rushing anymore. First we had to take advantage of the fact that Arielle is a heavy sleeper to squeeze in a little morning Christmas loving. Then there were Santa presents, Damon presents, and my Christmas breakfast extravaganza, which consisted on pop tarts and egg nog for the adults, milk and banana bread for the toddler. Getting ready, this part could extend indefinitely when a toddler is involved. So here we are at the first convenience store we could find because Caro will kill me if I show up empty handed which means we are getting doughnuts. I'm carrying Arielle while Damon is paying when I feel the air draft of the door being opened and closed. I hear a sharp intake of breath and suddenly there's a gun pointed right at me and Arielle. The man is wearing a ski mask and I can see his hand shaking but I'm too stunned to move. It all happens in seconds. The cashier moves his hands under the counter, to ring the alarm maybe. The index finger pulling the trigger moves and I'm suddenly pushed out of the way so hard I fall down cradling Arielle in my arms. There's a gunshot sound but it's not until I see the blood staining Damon's chest that I understand what just happened. I can't move, he's yelling at me begging me to cover Arielle's eyes but I just can't. I don't understand. Everything was fine. We are getting doughnuts; we're going to Stefan's. It's Christmas. It's our day, and just like that Damon looks at me one last time and closes his eyes. One. Last. Time.
I don't remember the last words I said to him. I can't remember much from those days. I won't torture myself with what I could've told him. Whatever I come up with is never enough, it will never be enough. The scales are forever tilted in Damon's favor. Every day Arielle smiles or learns a new thing or looks at me with her bright blue eyes the scales tilt even more. One day I'm sure they'll just crash. I finish arranging his favorite bottle or bourbon, draping his leather jacket over the tombstone when I hear the echo of my daughter's giggle in the air. I turn and she's walking hand in hand with Ric and Jenna. Alaric has his bourbon tumbler in his other hand. That's his thing, a toast for a fallen friend. They come close and hug me tight. Ric finishes his drink and kisses Arielle's head before turning to leave. They know this is our special family time. Most people think it's morbid to serve my daughter lunch over her father's grave but Damon would tell me to send them all to hell. So I do. I cuddle Arielle on my lap as we sing her daddy's song:
"Have yourself a merry little Christmas,
Let your heart be light
From now on,
our troubles will be out of sight…"
The song referenced here is "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" lyrics by Ralph Blane. I think it is now safe to say I've never cried so much when writing something as I did when I wrote this. I hope you guys enjoyed it!