December 25, 1991 – 4 years old
Remington clapped his hands together with relish, his eyes on his oldest two children – four-year-olds Olivia and Sophia.
"So, Little Ladies Steele…" the girls giggled at the moniker "…are you ready to get this show on the road?"
The Steele family, along with Thomas and Catherine, were gathered in the family room during the early hours of Christmas morning. The tree was laden – over laden in Laura's opinion – with presents, and the girls had been investigating the packages while awaiting their grandparents to join the family.
"Can we open them, Da? Can we, can we?" Olivia asked dancing on her tiptoes, her eyes bright with exhilaration. Standing up, he feigned sudden thought, scratching his head for the dramatic effect.
"Well, I don't know. Perhaps we should make Christmas breakfast first." Laura quietly laughed as Livvie vigorously shook her head.
"I'm not hungry," Livvie insisted, then whirled to look at her sister. "Are you Sophie?"
"I'm not hungry," Sophie replied, wide eyed and shaking her head slowly.
"Maybe Granddad would like a bite to eat, hmmm?" he suggested. Livvie's head snapped in her grandfather's direction.
"Oh, I wouldn't be able to eat a bite, wondering what it is St. Nickolas may have brought the children," Thomas dissented, laughing. Livvie looked to her father again, dancing on her tiptoes, hands clasped beneath her chin in a plea.
"Please, Da, please," she begged. With a roll of her eyes at him, Laura intervened.
"Ignore your Da, girls. He's just teasing you," she assured, while Remington grinned at her. Getting up from the ottoman, she crossed to the tree and sat down before it. "But before we start opening, I'll need the two of you to help me pass out everyone's presents."
The girls eagerly agreed, giving Remington Holt's presents as well as his own, their grandparents their gifts, and stacking their own packages in a pile on a pair of chairs.
Livvie thought it fun at first, taking someone their present, seeing their smile, exchanging 'thank you' and 'your welcomes'. Enough fun that she skipped back-and-forth, back-and-forth, the first half dozen presents she delivered. But then she began casting longing glances towards her own presents piling up on the chair and she would swear the bows on the presents sparkled extra bright each time she took a peek in their direction. The sparkly red bow reminded her of the ring her Mommy never took off, the green one of some of the pretty stones in Mommy's jewelry box.
She really LIKED shiny objects…
And she was VERY curious what was in the packages beneath those bows.
It was so, so hard to keep passing out those presents and to keep a smile on her face when what she wanted more than ANYTHING in the world was to uncover her new treasures.
"All right, girls, that's all the presents for now," Laura announced. Livvie's eyes grew wide.
"Can we open now, Mommy?" she asked.
"May we open," Laura corrected automatically, smiling as she stood then joined Remington where he sat on the floor next to Holt, "And, yes, you may."
With a squeal of joy, Livvie ran to the chair where those presents awaited her, and picking up the first present, unceremoniously shredded the pretty wrapping paper, making her mother wince... and leaving her father laughing low in his throat.
"Such vigor, such exuberance ought to be appreciated, don't you think?" Remington needled Laura.
"Mmmm an enthusiasm that nearly matches your own," she answered, wryly.
"Give her time, Laura, give her time." With a roll of her eyes and a smile, she bent forward to remove a piece of wrapping paper from the baby's hand.
"Santa gived me Belle Presto Magix!" she cried out. "Sophie, look! We can dress up Belle!" Before Sophie could answer, Livvie moved on to the next package. Rippppppppp. "The Beast. It's the Beast, Sophie! Look, Da! Santa give me the Beast!"
"So I see," he nodded, reaching for the camera sitting on a nearby end table. He snapped pictures as Livvie tore into the next gift, timing his shots perfectly to catch Livvie as she leaped to her feet, utter joy reflected on her face.
"It's Belle! It's Belle! Santa gaved me Belle and the Beast!" Snatching up the clear faced box that contained the Beast, she scrambled across the living room and up onto the couch to sit between Thomas and Catherine. "Look what I got!"
"They're lovely, darling," Catherine fawned over the dolls for her granddaughter's sake. "They look like they just stepped out of the movie." Livvie struggled with the package trying to free Belle from her cardboard and plastic prison. She peered up at Thomas, her eyes beseeching his help.
"I can't get her out."
"Shall I try my hand?" Thomas offered, taking the box from her hands.
"What do you say, a stór?" Remington hinted. Livvie's eyes widened at the reminder and she pressed up on her knees to wrap her arms around her grandfather's neck.
"Yes, please, Granddad," she told him, giving him the biggest hug she could.
Releasing his neck, she slipped off the couch and ran back to the chair and her presents. Those glittery bows once again caught her attention and a smile lit her face. Digging through the discarded paper, she carefully removed each bow, setting them on the coffee table in a neat row, then reverently removed the bows from her remaining presents, carefully lining them up.
She puffed in frustration when Holt crawled to the table, pulled himself up and reached for a bow.
"No, no, Holt," she admonished taking the bow out of his hand as he shoved it towards his mouth. Laura reached over and plucked the baby away from the table.
"Livvie Bee, don't you want to open the rest of your presents?" Laura asked. Olivia looked at the gifts piled on the chair then shrugged her shoulders.
"No," she answered, simply, returning her attention to the task in front of her, frowning as she moved some of the bows around.
Laura looked over her shoulder at Remington who, much like their daughter, shrugged a careless shoulder while giving her a look that said 'What can you do?' He was, in fact, correct. Since her second Christmas, at a mere 13 months old, when something caught her fancy she was simply done opening presents. Thankfully, their family and friends accepted this quirkiness as 'adorable.' Still, Remington gave it a go, seeing if he could convince her to forge ahead.
"Seems to me there was one or two more things you hoped Santa Claus to bring. Aren't you curious to see if he came through with the goods? Hmmm? I know I am." Livvie hadn't taken her eyes at her table of bows while he'd spoken. Her hands stilled as she turned her head towards her father.
"No," she answered, shaking her head. "I just wanna play with my bows." His back straightened where he sat, a stunned look on his face.
"Your… bows?" he asked in disbelief. As Laura sat back down on the floor beside him, she sat Holt down then lay a soft hand on her husband's forearm.
"Leave it alone, Mr. Steele," she advised quietly.
"But bows, Laura," he complained under his breath. "I mean... bows."
"What can I say?" she replied. "Like father, like daughter." He puffed out a breath mocking the very idea.
"I can assure you, I'd never have passed over a present for a bow," he harrumphed. Bending forward he grabbed Holt as the baby made a race for the table. Plopping him down on his diapered bottom, Remington dropped one of the baby's gifts in front of him. Laura shifted slightly closer to him.
"Lemme set the scene for you. The ghost of Emmett Devore. A saloon in an abandoned mining town. An old journal belonging to a gold prospector. A single sleeping bag." A fond smile lifted his lips.
"Mmmmmm," he hummed, angling himself to face her, "With delightfully snug fit, as I recall," he reminisced, earning a soft laugh from her and a pair of memory warmed brown eyes sparkling up at him.
"Yes, it was," she agreed. "But more to the point, I asked how serious your hobby of gold prospecting was and you said…"
"You know how I am around shiny objects. Can't resist them."
His eyes slanted towards their first born, as memories whirled in his head. An infant reaching for Laura's sparkling necklace. The way she was drawn to the glimmer of the sun on the water. Her love for the tiaras in the girls dress-up clothes collection. How for years she'd reverently touch Laura's earrings, her necklace while declaring reverently, 'pretty.'
"Here you are, my darling girl," Thomas announced, holding the treasured doll and her accessories up, now free of their cardboard and plastic trappings.
Remington's eyes skirted over the glittery bows, to where he daughter was climbing up on the couch to claim her beloved doll.
"Look, Mommy!" Livvie called to Laura. "Belle's dress sparkles!"
"It's a very pretty dress," Laura complimented, as Livvie nodded her earnest agreement. Remington's eyes returned to his wife's face.
"Point taken," he conceded, "Although I do believe you may have forgotten the most memorable portion of that conversation." Her brows lifted in surprise, and her brown eyes questioned him.
"Oh? And what portion is that?" she wondered. He leaned in closer and palmed her cheek in his hand, his thumb gently stroking the top of her cheekbone beneath her eyes.
"The part about your shimmering eyes…" His hand slipped away, only for a pair of fingers to touch the bottom of her chin, tipping it up. "…And kissable lips." He leaned in to sample those very lips. She was smiling softly as he pulled away, tempting him to bend his head downwards again.
"Speaking of children like you…" The descent of his head stalled and his brows furrowed as he looked at her questioningly. "Your son's about to abscond with someone else's treasures…"
TBC in Vignettes of Steele: Holt