A/N: This is it. Happy Holidays to those who celebrate.
I woke up on Christmas morning to a kiss on my forehead. I cuddled against Chuck, so comfortable I never wanted to move, let alone get out of bed.
The comfort of sleeping next to someone was something I had never known, never understood until now. I had always thought about space, angles, the potential for discomfort from snoring, tossing, turning…so many things.
But of course, that was my brain and not my heart. My heart told me it was warmth, comfort, and trust. Trust. Who would think it? But it was true. I trusted him; I had to—you are at your most vulnerable when sleeping, for lots of reasons.
"What time is Ellie expecting us?" I asked.
"Ten's a good time," he answered. "We do late breakfast, then presents, then dinner, then dessert. With The Twilight Zone on in the background."
I pulled back to look at his face questioningly.
"It's a tradition from when we were little, you know, after my mom left. My dad…loved that show. And then we were just…used to it. It made things feel not so bad…once we were alone."
I squeezed him, offering my support as he shared more of himself with me. I paused, letting that sink in. "That sounds…nice," I said gently.
He kissed my cheek. "Well, the good news is…we aren't alone anymore. Ellie has Devon, Morgan has Alex."
"And you have me," I said as I kissed him. The look in his eyes after what I'd said melted me.
He ran his thumb along the line of my jaw. "And you have me." He said it seriously, I'm sure because he knew my isolation had been profound, worse than anything else he had mentioned.
I kissed him, more passionately, wrapping my arms around him. "So we have some time?" I said suggestively.
"Plenty," he said as he smiled, right before he kissed me just as passionately in return.
~O~
We showered together after making love, which led to an extra long shower and making love a second time. I couldn't get enough of him, and thankfully the feeling was mutual. He called me "baby" while we were drying off together.
I had never thought of myself as a pet name kind of girl. I think Bryce had said it once or twice, but I took it less personally, almost like an insult—like I was just some dumb blonde in his bed.
When Chuck said it, it made sense to me—why someone would use that term to apply to a love interest. Honey, sweetie…those were self explanatory. Baby…baby was different.
I'm sure people said that to each other all the time and never cared what it meant or implied. With Chuck, it was about tenderness, vulnerability. Something I had shown to him and only him, when I'd trusted him with my heart. It was as sweet as anything I could imagine.
I could tell by his face that it had just slipped out; it wasn't planned. To put him at ease, I kissed him, soundly, telling him that I loved that he called me that.
He dressed quickly and once I emerged in my bathrobe, he handed me a small, wrapped box. "I wanted to give this to you when it was just you and me."
He had already given me so much, I felt almost guilty taking anything else from him. "Chuck, I…I didn't get you anything."
"Relax, Sarah. You didn't even know me a week ago. And then you were sick for two days." He kissed me. "And…just so we're clear. You gave me your heart. Which is the rarest, most precious—priceless—gift I could ever have asked for."
My eyes filled with tears, but I opened the box.
Inside was a silver necklace with a G-clef pendant attached. When I looked closely I noticed it was actually platinum, not silver. Nestled in the final curve of the shape was a round diamond. It was by leaps and bounds the most expensive piece of jewelry I had ever held in my hand. For myself, I had only ever bought cheap but tasteful costume jewelry.
"It's beautiful," I gushed.
"I thought of you when I saw it. Before you ever told me how you felt about me, I remembered what you looked like when you were playing the violin. How your face shined…how happy you were."
I couldn't say anything, my throat aching with emotion.
He whispered, emotional himself. "I can't tell you what it felt like to see that same expression…when you were with me. What that means to me."
He was like a piece of music, a masterpiece with layer upon layer of meaning and expression. I don't think I could have told him that eloquently enough. I trusted that he knew how I felt.
My Chuck. My Chuck.
While I was getting dressed, I thumbed through the manila folder from last night. I flipped to the back page, the post-it note with my mother's name, address, and phone number.
"I want to call her now," I told him.
He was at my side. "Ok. Let's do it. I can…explain. She might…be in shock."
I knew what he didn't say–that she might think it was a trick, that I wasn't who I would be saying I was. That she might not believe me.
My hands shook when I dialed. Chuck turned on the speaker on my cell phone.
She answered after three rings, a confused hello, addressed to unknown someone on the end of an unknown number.
The sound of her voice made me cry, unable to speak. Fortunately, Chuck was there like he said he would be.
"Ms. Burton?" he started.
"Yes. Who is this?" she asked warily.
"Ma'am, my name is Charles Bartowski. You don't know me from Adam, I know, but…well, I work with computers and…U was investigating. I found you. For your daughter."
Her voice was rushed and harsh as she replied. "I don't know what you're trying to do but–"
"Mom, it's me," I interrupted, finally able to find my voice, worried that she would be too angry or suspicious and hang up.
The last time she had heard me speak, I was only three. My voice was obviously different, foreign to her. But the pause, the gasp–was significant.
"Samantha?" she asked incredulously.
Samantha.
My real name. The moment she said it, I remembered. I almost fainted. I must have seemed unsteady, because I felt Chuck's hand on my elbow. I glanced at him quickly, emotional at the sight of him, tears streaming from his eyes.
"Sam I am. Green eggs and ham," I said slowly, as a hazy memory came into focus. "You…used to read that to me…before bed."
How could I have forgotten that?
That did it, broke through her disbelief. She was incoherent, a higher pitch to her voice as she cried and babbled. I wasn't much better.
Chuck was crying too, but he could at least be articulate. "Her name is Sarah Walker now. She didn't remember her real name. Which is probably why you couldn't find her. Why she couldn't find you."
"Who are you?" my mother asked him.
"I'm her boyfriend. You can call me Chuck." He took a deep breath. "We're in Los Angeles. Pretty close to you."
More incoherent squealing. I collected myself. "I'm spending today with Chuck's family, but later tonight—"
"Yes! Yes! Oh, that would be wonderful!" she gushed. "This is the best Christmas ever."
Yes, it was.
We said goodbye and hung up.
"You are the best thing that ever happened to me," I told him as he took me in his arms.
"Ditto," he said as he kissed the top of my head.
~O~
We were greeted excitedly at the door of Ellie's apartment. She grabbed us both in a giant hug and squeezed, squealing with joy and wishing us a Merry Christmas.
Once we were through the door, Devon came to say hello. He hugged me, then very obviously gave Chuck a high five like they were college kids. Chuck blushed a little, which was adorable.
"Sarah, this is my best friend Morgan, and his wife Alex," Chuck said as a shorter bearded man with a kind smile approached with a petite, brown-haired woman clinging to his arm.
Morgan grabbed my hand and shook. "It's so nice to finally meet you, Sarah," he said. Alex just made a cooing noise and stretched out her arms to hug me.
"It's so weird you know my dad," Alex beamed as she pulled away.
"Small world, I guess," I replied with a smile. "Your dad sort of looked out for me. It was very sweet," I added.
Morgan chuckled. "Don't let Casey here you say that," he mumbled. "Sweet is like an insult to him. Old Marine that he is."
"Ellie invited him, did you know that, Sarah?" Alex told me.
"The more the merrier," Ellie called from the kitchen. It was a very Ellie thing to do.
As I walked into the living room, I caught Morgan's not-too-subtle double thumbs up at Chuck, meaning he approved of me. Again, it could have been offensive to some, but if Morgan was Chuck's best friend, it wasn't possible he had a bad bone in his body. He had pure intentions.
I sat with Alex. She was comfortably sociable and put me at ease.
"Sarah," she started, pointedly. "I know you've technically only known Chuck for a short while. But he's…an incredible guy. And I've never seen him look as happy as he did when he walked in here with you. It's such…a relief."
"He is incredible. Lucky for me I found him when I did."
That would be the theme of the day, it seemed. Everyone either commented on how happy Chuck looked, or how they noticed how he was looking at me.
I felt like I belonged there, with everyone. Like I was part of a family. All my worries went away. I enjoyed every minute of that time.
Casey came right before dinner, offering mini quiches that he'd made. I teased him about it.
"I don't kid about quiche," he snarked.
As I was walking away, he called me over and spoke conspiratorially to me. "You know, Walker, when that kid saw you on the floor like that, he lost it. I don't know what happened between you two—and I don't want to, believe me. But you should never doubt for a minute that that kid loves you."
"I know, Casey," I told him softly, touching his arm. "Thanks for letting him inside my apartment."
His voice was soft, almost sweet. "You've been taking care of yourself for too long." He winked at me, then walked into the living room to sit with his daughter.
I was sitting in Ellie's living room with everyone, conversing in a way I was not used to, but everyone was so nice, so thoughtful and caring, being reserved or stoic would have seemed rude. It made perfect sense–these people were Chuck's family, the family he had built around himself when his and Ellie's fell apart.
Later, Chuck was in the kitchen with Morgan when Ellie came to sit with me.
"Thank you so much for inviting me, Ellie. This is the best Christmas I've ever had," I said warmly.
She smiled knowingly, bumping into my shoulder, understanding more than just my politeness, all the reasons why this Christmas was so special. "You certainly look better than the last time I saw you, Sarah. A world of difference better."
I smiled, blushing. She looked away, and I followed her gaze. Chuck was standing near the table, a wistful, peaceful expression on his face. Like he was relieved, touched, that I was comfortable with everyone, that I belonged with his family.
"I have never seen Chuck look the way he looks now, Sarah," Ellie said pointedly. She touched my arm and made eye contact. "I mean ever."
"He's such an amazing guy," I told her.
"He is," she sighed. "But I'm partial. He is my brother. I do love him."
"So do I," I whispered to her.
She smiled, dabbing at her eyes. "I just wish he'd come back to California sooner. But, everything worked out in the end."
Chuck was still staring. I noticed he was standing under the mistletoe. I walked up to him and pointed over his head. He snaked his arm around my waist, pulled me against his chest, and kissed me, just a little bit longer than a normal mistletoe kiss would normally last. I could hear the soft murmuring behind us, but it was all sweet, all well wishes for Chuck and me.
They loved him too…and they were happy to see him happy at last. I was honored to know I was the reason.
We ate fresh baked cinnamon rolls with coffee and then we opened presents. Ellie made the announcement that I had been sick–everyone understood. Ellie gave me a pair of gold earrings, dainty, perfect to wear with my formal performance attire.
Chuck handed me yet another box to open.
"Chuck, you did way too much for me," I said.
"Not possible," he whispered in my ear.
I opened the box. Inside was a purple velvet pouch. He reached in, picked it up, and shook the contents into his palm. It was a silver charm bracelet. I heard Ellie gasp, loudly, on the other side of me.
"Oh, Chuck, I love it," I told him. There were four charms on it–a heart, a key, an angel…and a tiny violin.
"This belonged to my mother," he said seriously. "My dad gave it to her when Ellie was born." He undid the clasp and fastened it on my wrist.
"Oh my God, Chuck," I breathed, surprised by what he had said.
"I…uh…added the violin charm…for you. I wanted you to have this."
I stretched out my wrist to see it better, my vision blurring from the tears in my eyes. I thought about his life…and how, at 34, after a divorce, he was giving me something he had in his possession since he was nine.
As if sensing my question, he added, "It never felt…right…to give it away…until now."
Everyone around us murmured in appreciation and admiration.
I grabbed my phone and took a selfie of us, my cheek pressed against his. He kept his eyes facing forward, but kissed my cheek, and I took a second shot.
"This will be my gift to you. I'll put them in frames. You can add it to your table," I told him.
"You know, Sarah, your apartment is much more nicely decorated than mine. Plants, paintings, your violin nook. But you had no pictures anywhere," he said. "Put one of those there."
He was right, of course. The only thing I could think of was when it would be just one apartment, our apartment. Balance, I told myself. I was still adjusting. But it was a nice dream, a nice hope for the future. As long as I could sleep beside him, wherever we were, I was content.
Chuck told Ellie, after dessert, that we were driving to San Bernardino to see my mother. Ellie remembered what I told her, because she looked shocked at first. Then she started crying and waved us out, muttering "mascara" to her husband.
We were all smiles as we left hand in hand, to probably the most important meeting of my life. I was glad he was with me.
And that he always would be.
He was my George and I was his Mary.