Author's Note: I am so, so sorry for the delay in updating! Life got in my way a bit these last two weeks. It's getting a little harder to sit down and write more than a few sentences at a time, but I'm hoping you all enjoy this chapter despite my lateness! As always, thank you so much for reading, following, and reviewing. -SAM
"Kathy this wine is delicious," Mom says with her glass halfway back to her lips.
Dinner was eventful, as always, culminating in the younger cousins tossing bits of food at each other when they thought the adults weren't looking. No worse than the uncles who caught them and instead of reprimanding the kids, joined in. Mom dismissed everyone from the table quickly after that.
Dean's mom insisted on helping rinse dishes and load the dishwasher. When Mom protested, she softened her up with a Christmas present, a few bottles of this super sweet Canadian dessert wine that apparently comes from frozen grapes. After Mom spent ten minutes telling her how she didn't need to do that, she opened up the first bottle and didn't even complain when Kathy continued rinsing glasses while I placed them in the dishwasher. She and Aunt Mer finished wiping down the table and then propped themselves up at the kitchen island, oohing and aahing over the wine.
"I'm telling you, if you two love wine as much as I do you've got to come with me on this vineyard tour in New Jersey. Some of the best wines on the east coast, I swear." Kathy hands me the last dish and I close the door, pushing a few buttons to get the cycle started.
That kickstarts the planning, and I take this opportunity to quietly excuse myself. I doubt any of them really noticed. The three of them hit it off better than I could've ever imagined. In fact, Dean's family fit into the Maddox melee as if they'd been born into it. Dad was a little territorial at first, but when Kathy openly discussed her family with him as if it were no big thing, he softened up. I think he was more concerned that they wouldn't be forthcoming or they'd be snobbish, but like I found out yesterday, Dean's family are very hard not to like.
Kathy and Pop got into a conversation about some old family acquaintances in the area, while Nick and Dad bonded over their mutual love of engines. Danny spent more time conversing with Uncle Taylor and Uncle Tyler than anyone else. I think they were trying to convince him to go pro so they could get good seats to some games. Absolutely shameless.
Dean and I didn't get to talk much at all. When he wasn't being playfully harassed by my dad and uncles, he was being fawned over by the women in my family. Especially when Mom demanded to see his portfolio, which he brought as promised. She gave me a wistful look when she saw some of the shots he took of me and of us together, but for the most part she was just immensely impressed. Aunt Liis actually asked him if she could purchase one of his photos as a canvas. It was a wide angle shot of the beach in Carmel at sunrise; one of my favorites.
Now that everything has settled down and everyone is scattered in various parts of the house, playing with gifts, texting boyfriends and girlfriends, relaxing by the fire or in front of the TV, I can seek out Dean and maybe find a quiet spot where we won't be bothered for a while. I haven't had the chance to give him his Christmas gift yet and I want to get it over with. The anxiety over whether he'll love it or hate it has been building all day.
I find him in the basement with a few of my cousins playing one of their new video games. They're all yelling at each other and the screen as if making the wrong move is life or death.
"Dude, you just killed me! Not cool, man!" Dean shouts as the kids laugh at him.
"I didn't realize you were busy," I say, leaning my shoulder against on of the supports in the middle of the room. "Guess you don't want your Christmas present."
He tosses the controller to one of the kids who doesn't have one and climbs to his feet. "Sorry guys, you're on your own."
They groan but get over it quickly once the new game starts. He walks over to me and the blazing look in his eyes makes my stomach flutter.
He takes my hands in his then leans forward, his lips barely brushing my ear. "I've been wanting to touch you all day. That's as good a present as any." His warm breath trails down my neck as he brushes kisses against my skin.
Reluctantly, I clear my throat and take a step back. "Probably not a good idea with four kids ten feet away. Besides, your real present is better."
"Not possible." He takes my hand and I lead him up the stairs, my cheeks warm from his compliment.
I decide to take him to the one place I know no one will interrupt us, since my dad would probably murder him on sight if he caught us in my bedroom. Regardless of what he claims he knows, I'm still his baby and he wouldn't take something like that lightly. We climb the stairs and I pull him down the hall to what looks like a closet door. He looks at me with his eyebrow raised, confused, and I peek down the hall to make sure no one sees us. When I'm sure the coast is clear, I open the door to reveal a narrow set of stairs. "Attic. It's not as dingy and creepy as it sounds. I used to come up here all the time as a kid so Mom fixed it up for me."
"Lead the way." He gestures with his hand for me to go first.
"Pull the door shut behind you, I don't want any of the cousins getting any bright ideas." I climb five steps before all light disappears with the closing of the door.
"You sure about that 'creepy' part?" Dean's fingers skate up my sides and a chill runs over my skin when I notice how close he is.
I huff out a breath in frustration, "Do you want your present or not? Hands off, you're too distracting."
He laughs behind me but removes his hands and we climb the rest of the stairs in silence. When we get to the top, I move to the light switch off to the side and with a flip, the room is illuminated with tiny fairy lights that Mom strung up across the ceiling. It's not much in the way of light, but it casts the room in a warm glow that always made me feel safe, and happy.
Dean ducks his head a little since the roof pitches low in some spots. He moves around the room, taking in this private piece of my childhood. There are stacks of books everywhere. Sitting in front of the only window is a huge puffy beanbag couch where I would spend countless hours reading, thinking, wishing I were a different kind of girl. One who didn't have to spend Friday nights alone in her attic while everyone else was out having fun. Along the walls are various pictures and posters that I found interesting or inspiring. He pauses at one in particular and his expression softens. I step up next to him so I can see his profile as he reads it over again. It's just a plain black poster with white writing in two alternating fonts.
" 'Always remember, you're braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.' " He reads it aloud and I remember all the nights I spent staring at this poster, letting the words sink in and penetrate the shell of self-pity and weakness I let envelop me in the days and weeks right after that night with Will.
"I put it up after…" I trail off, because I know he knows what 'after' means.
Still not taking his eyes from the poster, he nods his head slightly. "I figured. It's true though. I think you've proven that to yourself often enough by now. Where does the quote come from?"
I smile to myself and bite the side of my lip. "Christopher Robin said it to Winnie the Pooh."
The grin that takes over his face could light the room on its own. "Only you."
He turns from the wall and notices that I'm holding a large, square package wrapped in red paper with gold stripes and a fat gold bow. I kept his gift here that way no one could bug me about what I got him or poke around to see what it was.
"Ah, so that's why you lured me up here. And here I was thinking you wanted to take advantage of me." Taking a step forward, he closes his eyes and holds out both hands. "Lay it on me, baby."
I laugh and place the gift in his outstretched hands. With his eyes still closed, he slips off the bow and tears into the wrapping paper. When he opens his eyes and looks down at what he's holding, the playfulness in his eyes disappears and they soften as he studies his gift. Tugging my hand, he pulls us down onto the overstuffed beanbag couch so that I'm resting in his lap. From this position we're both able to inspect it. He slides his hand over the smooth leather cover of the scrapbook, his fingers lingering on the photo mounted to the front. It's not one he's seen before. I know because he was sleeping when I took it. I remember he had this gorgeous smile on his face, even as he had just drifted off to sleep, and I couldn't resist. My head is leaning on his shoulder and my eyes are on his face. It's nowhere near as artistic as the photos he's taken. It's not even from a real camera, just my phone. But from the touched look on his face now, I think it's safe to assume he appreciates the thought.
Opening to the first page we both laugh at the punch card for free coffee from our favorite coffee shop. The same place where we spent the first week of our not-quite-relationship getting to know each other. Next to it is a silly selfie we took one of those first few days, half hiding behind our coffee cups. I snuck onto his computer and stole some pictures to supplement my own.
"Really?" he questions sarcastically with a little smirk over the next page. It's a printed napkin from the bar we went to the night that I finally 'discovered' the truth about Dean. Next to it is a picture of me on Dean's lap with a pool stick in my hand. Kelsey took it with her small point and shoot camera. I'm leaning to the side and sticking my tongue out at him over my shoulder. "You were so drunk that night."
"Hey, you weren't complaining when you were getting me into bed later," I counter.
"Not exactly the way I wanted to, but hey, I'm a desperate man."
I slap his chest and turn the next page for him. It's the wristband for the boardwalk pier from our first date, the receipt from lunch that day, and a little baggy filled with sand from the beach which I collected just before we left California. We both smile over that memory. First date. First kiss. The rest of the pages are filled with mementos from our time together so far. Ticket stubs, sea shells, receipts, pictures taken on my phone, a couple of his shots of us, a photo booth strip from Venice Beach. A scrapbook filled with memories that I know neither of us will ever forget.
"I had no idea you kept all of this stuff…" He ponders out loud when we finish going through each page, placing it gently on the floor next to us. He tilts my chin toward him and whispers, "Thank you." He kisses me lightly on the lips and moves away far too soon. "This is the best gift anyone has ever given me."
"I'm glad. You're a really hard person to shop for, and since I was saving this stuff anyway I decided to put it to good use." I trail my finger down his chest and tuck my head into his shoulder, not meeting his eyes because I have to admit I'm a little embarrassed to be giving him such a sentimental gift.
"Hey," he brings my face back to his again and presses his lips to mine, parting them slightly for just a brief second. Too brief. "No hiding. If you hide, how am I supposed to give you your gift?"
I perk up and mimic his earlier stance, holding out my hands in front of me and closing my eyes. I feel him shift and struggle for a moment, then his lips are at my ear. "It can't compare with the scrapbook, but I'm hoping you like it anyway."
A small, lightweight box is placed in my right hand and I peek an eye open to look at it. My breath catches a little. The box is small, square and light blue with a silver bow tied around it.
"Dean, I hope you didn't—,"
"Don't. It's Christmas. I can spend my money on you if I want to, and when I saw this, I just had to get it for you. So stop protesting, and open it already. You're killing me over here." He wraps his arms around my waist and rests his chin on my shoulder, waiting.
Deep breath. I pull the ribbon off and slowly ease the top of the box up. Resting on a white velvet cushion are two white gold boxing gloves on a chain. Behind them is a round disc with something engraved on it. I gently move the gloves to the side to reveal the writing, brushing my thumb over the delicately carved numbers. It's a date. Scrunching my brows together, I look up at Dean.
"The night you agreed to be my girlfriend."
My heart melts into an unrecognizable puddle. I start to take the necklace out of the box so that I can put it on, but he lays his hand on mine to stop me. "There's more, on the back."
Curious, I flip over the disc and there, in an elegant script, is one sentence: A love worth fighting for.
I can't stop the tears that fill my eyes, but I do manage to keep them from spilling over onto my cheeks. I have to press my lips tightly together and take a breath through my nose before I'm able to trust my voice, though it is still barely a whisper. "I love it."
"Good. Because I love you. And I'm never going to stop fighting for us. I hope you won't either. If you ever have any doubt, this will help to remind you." He pulls me to my feet and holds the necklace out in front of me, unhooking the clasp and laying the thin, twisting rope against my neck. I pull my hair to the side and he hooks the ends together easily. The charms lay over the center of my chest, close to my heart. It's perfect.
Turning in his arms, I reach up and take his face in my hands. "I'll always fight for us. Always." When our lips meet, the warmth flows through me from head to toe. Dean's hands find my hips and we begin to sway gently. When he takes one of my hands in his I lean back and blink up at him, confused. He spins me away from him then pulls me back into his embrace, still swaying from side to side. I giggle lightly at his playfulness. "What are we doing?"
"Dancing," he says, bringing his other hand to my lower back and dipping me so that my hair brushes the floor.
"But there's no music," I say when I'm back on both feet.
He wraps his arm tightly around my back, curling his other hand around mine so that they're both resting together on his chest. His warm cheek, a little rough with stubble, slides against mine and he whispers softly, "Sometimes you have to make your own music."
Goosebumps cover my neck and I lean further into him. He hums gently under his breath and I smile to myself as we move in a lazy circle. My eye catches a dull white piece of paper taped to the wall. It's something silly that I doodled and hung up when I was in high school. Just some song lyrics that always made me long for someone who made me feel the way the person felt when they wrote those words.
"There's just no one who gets me like you do. You are my only, my only one."
Reading them now, I realize I'm no longer searching for that feeling. I finally have it.
"So we'll see you next week at the party, right?" Kathy asks my mom and dad as she shrugs into her long camel colored wool coat.
"Wouldn't miss it. Call me and let me know if you change your mind and want us to bring anything."
"Trust me Abby, she's got it covered. New Years Eve is the biggest event of the year for us. Just bring your appetite and your dancing shoes." Nick adds over Kathy's shoulder as they make their way to the front door.
It's after ten and the only people left are Dean's family and Aunt Mer and Uncle Shep. When Dean and I finally left our bubble in the attic, we came down to a bunch of screaming, fussy kids being herded to the door, grumpy teenagers wanting to get back home to their iPads and Instagram accounts, and a full blown fight between Uncle Taylor and Uncle Trent over bike parts. Pretty standard for a Maddox Christmas.
Dean places his hand on my back and leans down to speak quietly in my ear. "You know the party is a huge black tie event, right? There will be at least a hundred people there. Are you sure you're up for this?"
"Well considering your mom, my mom and my aunt have become overnight besties, I don't think I have much choice in the matter. Just promise me you won't leave me alone."
"Not for a second. And I'll be right next to you waiting for my kiss at midnight." He sneaks a quick kiss just under my ear and my pulse picks up.
"You play dirty, Wilkins." I shove his coat into his hands and push him down the hall towards his family as they're saying their goodbyes to the rest of my family.
"Jessie, sweetie, it was so great seeing you again, but I feel like we barely got to talk. I'd like us to get together this week for lunch. Give me a call and we'll work out the details." Kathy wraps her arms around me and I stumble into her embrace, looking past her to Danny who is laughing and shaking his head. I narrow my eyes at him and stick my tongue out before she releases me.
"Absolutely. I'd like that."
I follow them out and stand on the porch until they're in the car and out of sight. My deep breath expels as a cloud of steam in the cold air. Rubbing my hands up and down my arms, I turn to go back in the house. I lock the door behind me and lean back against it, thinking about the New Years party that my family was invited to by Dean's mom and stepdad. One family get together down, and now one more to go. With all of those people though, what could possibly go wrong?