"So, Martin tells us you're still enjoying your job at the magazine," a woman whose name Lucy had forgotten prompted, setting her empty glass on a tray as a waiter passed by.
"Yes, very much," Lucy answered politely, ignoring the slight itch under her skin as the words left her mouth.
Not that it was a lie, exactly. But was it really the truth anymore?
The living room was now completely full of friends and work colleagues of her parents, as well as her aunt Jeanine and uncle Arthur, who Lucy hadn't seen since last Christmas. A towering, opulent tree stood in the far corner of the room, with expertly flocked branches decorated in coordinated white and silver ornaments. It was the most lush artificial tree Lucy had ever seen, standing at almost two stories tall. White lights glittered along the mantel, and simple white taper candles were placed all throughout the room. Christmas music played softly through speakers that were strategically hidden behind faux plants and bookshelves.
The ornament exchange had just finished, and everyone was mingling about and showing off their spoils. Lucy fidgeted with the headband in her hair as she continued socializing until her mother announced that dinner was served, and that everyone should be seated at their tables. She made her way to the dining room and sat at her usual seat, to the left of the head of the table- where her father would be seated- and across from her mother. Jeanine and Arthur sat next to her, and Lucy smiled warmly at them. Jeanine was her mother's sister who had moved to Connecticut when she married Arthur, shortly after Lucy was born, so she only ever saw them on holidays. They'd never been particularly close, but it was preferable to being seated next to a complete stranger, which had happened on multiple occasions.
All of the food was delicious, per usual- the first course was a caesar salad and an assortment of fresh breads accompanied by butter and large flakes of sea salt. As their wine glasses were being filled and the main courses presented - rosemary chicken, slow braised beef, or seared scallops - Jeanine turned to Lucy.
"I'm surprised to see you here on your own," she said conversationally, "I thought you'd have brought that handsome gentleman friend of yours to introduce to everyone."
"Oh," Lucy said, caught slightly off guard, "well, he's celebrating with his family. He doesn't get to see them much, you know."
"Mmm, I suppose that makes sense," Jeanine said with a sympathetic nod as she sliced into her roast, "but I was so looking forward to meeting him."
"So are we," her mother chimed in. Though her tone was chipper, her smile had grown tight around the edges.
It was a face Lucy had seen a thousand times, and whatever guard she might have let down to enjoy the evening festivities now slammed right back into place.
"We've both been incredibly busy, what with traveling and everything," Lucy explained diplomatically, ignoring her parents' pointed gazes, "but hopefully we'll both get to make introductions soon."
"Caroline, can you imagine if he," Jeanine pointed to her father, "had tried to take you to another country without asking mom and dad for permission first? Before you were even married?"
"That would have been quite the scandal," Caroline answered, raising her eyebrows for emphasis before taking a sip of her wine.
"Not that I would have ever dreamed of that," Martin answered, shaking his head, "but I suppose I'm a little old fashioned that way."
Lucy shifted in her seat and speared a scallop on her fork, praying for a change in subject matter.
"It is terribly romantic, though," Jeanine said, making Lucy smile despite feeling like she was in the hot seat.
"And now what does this fellow do again?" Arthur asked, leaning forward to make eye contact with Lucy, "is he a boxer?"
"He's a professional wrestler," Lucy corrected kindly, "he works for WWE- sports entertainment."
"The fighting is all make believe," her father chimed in, his tone noticeably more annoyed.
Lucy barely suppressed an eye roll as she went from anxious to irritated.
"The matches are choreographed," she explained, fighting to keep her voice from sounding too defensive, "but they are all incredible athletes."
Jeanine and Arthur simply nodded as they resumed eating.
"Speaking of athletics," Caroline said, ever in hostess mode, "how is Jacob doing in lacrosse?"
She had to hand it to her mother, the woman knew how to smoothly change a subject. Arthur and Jeanine talked happily about their nephew's triumph in middle school sports, and Lucy ate her dinner with purpose, hoping to fade into the background and escape the rest of the evening unscathed.
"I think they're finally out," Naomi whispered quietly as she tiptoed back into the guest room, easing the door shut behind her.
"Thank god," Jimmy said, "now we can get this thing moving."
"Hey, who's the one that gave them an entire tin of sugar cookies?" Roman asked, shooting him a look.
"If you had a better way to stop a room full of tantrums, you'd have done it," Jimmy said with a shrug, not looking remorseful in the least.
Jey chuckled as he pulled a comically large bag of wrapped gifts out of the large walk in closet.
The plan was simple but potentially tricky, all planned out by Annie. The tent was made of a series of panels, all of which open by rolling them up to the top, so they thought it would be fun to line the perimeter with gifts so that the kids were completely surrounded when they woke up in the morning.
The four of them crept out of their room and headed down the hall as quietly as possible. Naomi broke off to knock on Cici and Bobby's door, letting them know that they could come out and fill the stockings. They passed by the kitchen, where Annie and her husband Darryl were rolling in bikes for their twin girls. As Roman and twins reached the living room, they found that the kids were indeed sound asleep, the only noises from the tent being the occasional soft snore.
Everyone worked quickly and silently, doing their very best to preserve the holiday magic for another year. Annie's twins were the oldest at 8 and still believed in Santa Claus, and everyone was determined to make that last as long as possible. As the presents were carefully circled around the tent, Toni and Cici drank the glasses of milk left on a small end table that had been pushed against the wall to make room for the indoor camping. They also each ate most of a decorated sugar cookie, deliberately leaving behind a few crumbs as evidence. Once their mission was complete, Jey snagged the rest of Santa's cookies to bring into their room. Thumbs up were exchanged to signal that each task was done, and everyone snuck back to their rooms.
With the door shut behind them, Roman wrestled the cookies from Jey, snickering when Naomi used the distraction to grab the whole plate and toss it to Jimmy.
The four of them agreed to share, passing the plate around the floor until they were gone, and then finally crawling into bed.
As he settled into sleep, Roman let his mind wander, imagining what it would be like to have Lucy here with him next year. Maybe he was full of too many cookies and riding the high of pulling off the surprise for the kids, but he could see her fitting right in. Waking up wrapped in his arms in the morning, wearing her own set of matching pajamas, playing with the kids, joking around with Naomi and the twins. It was a perfect picture, one that brought the tiniest of smiles to his face as he finally drifted off.
Early the next morning, Lucy woke up earlier than normal, Skipper curled into her side next to her in the fluffy bed of her parent's guest room. Sunlight was filling the whole room, filtered by sheer, egg shell white colored curtains over the windows, tied back by soft blue ribbons. The whole room was tied together in shades of cream and soft blues, down to the rugs and tufted throw pillows. The furnishings and decorations throughout the house were immaculate, and this room was no exception. Welcoming, but leaving no room for a mess - a place for everything, and everything in its place.
Sitting up, she ruffled the sleeping pup's fur, getting a sleepy grumble in response. She checked the clock and decided she had a little bit of time to kill before someone would come looking for her. The magic of waking up on Christmas morning had never lost its magic for her, and her parents were up with the sun daily, so they always got an early start.
After washing her face and brushing her teeth, Lucy retrieved her journal from her overnight bag. She recounted the evening before, going in depth about the duality of excitement and nerves about the prospect of bringing Roman to the Christmas Eve party next year. Her mind began to puzzle around the logistics of navigating two families who lived several hours apart, both of whom had long standing traditions. As her thoughts went into overdrive, she set her pen down, closing the journal firmly.
Let's leave next year's theoretical complications for next year, she thought with a sigh.
She stood up to stretch and tuck her journal away. Glancing in the mirror, she ran her fingers through the curls to neaten them as much as she could before heading downstairs. She wore a short sleeve, button up, dark green pajama top with an embroidered mistletoe pattern, and matching pants. The set was a soft flannel material that was perfect for the cool morning. Her family also had the tradition of wearing holiday pajamas on Christmas morning, though they each enjoyed choosing their own set.
She walked downstairs and was greeted by the smell of coffee and cinnamon rolls, all laid out on the dining table. The room always felt smaller in the mornings somehow, absent of the hustle and bustle of the night before.
"Good morning, dear," her mom said brightly, joining her in the living room with a small cup and saucer of coffee. Her short hair was pinned back just so, and she wore silk pajamas in the same shade of red her sweater had been the night before, with a delicate green embroidered wreath on the breast pocket. They took their usual seats, the same as they had the evening before, and Lucy took hold of the shining silver tongs, placing a warm cinnamon roll on the doily lined plate in front of her.
"Morning, everyone," her father said, sliding into his chair. Usually with breakfast he'd be reading his paper, but as there were no deliveries this morning he'd opted for a crossword puzzle.
The three of them took their time eating, discussing the party the evening before and sipping coffee. After the dishes were cleared away, Martin set down his puzzle book and grinned.
"Stockings?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.
"Stockings," Lucy and Caroline said in cheerful unison.
Stockings always came before the presents, and they hung full from their holders above the fireplace. Lucy's was a soft pink velvet hanging from a golden stocking hanger shaped like a bell. The stockings had changed over the years as they'd gotten worn, but the holders had been the same since she could remember - the bell for her, the present for her mom, and the candy cane for her dad.
She settled into an overstuffed chair by the window as her mother sat on the loveseat next to it. Martin handed each of the women their stocking before joining Caroline on the loveseat with his own, and the opening began.
Lucy smiled fondly as she found her favorite dark chocolate and orange candy bar from a local chocolatier right on top. Next was a large candy cane wrapped in a cloth bow, another annual traditional. A pair of thick, beautiful blue fuzzy socks from a day spa her mother frequented were next, and she couldn't wait to slip them on. Her fingers closed around something hard, and she pulled out a small package wrapped in shiny silver paper. She unwrapped it to find a pocket sized book of poetry. She ran her fingers over the gold foil letters on the front.
"This is beautiful," she commented, holding it up in thanks.
"I wrote a letter to Santa about it," Martin said with a wink.
Caroline shook her head playfully with a small grin as Lucy chuckled. They'd never stopped the pretense that Santa filled up their stockings every year, even as her childhood grew further and further in the rearview.
She could feel the usual clementine in the toe of the stocking, but there was also a small envelope. As she opened it, she found a miniature card with a simple "Seasons Greetings" in cursive script on the front, and a small bit of paper sticking out. The card unfolded to reveal a check with a surprisingly large number written on it. Lucy looked up at her parents, baffled. Her pulse was racing, though she wasn't exactly sure why just yet.
"Wow…um, thank you," she stammered out quickly, not wanting to seem ungrateful, "this is very generous," she held up the check, her hand shaking a little.
Her father looked up from the bow tie in his lap, giving a brief nod before looking to see what else was to be discovered. The look on her mother's face, however, was sharper. Still a smile, certainly, but with an edge only someone who'd lived in her house for nearly two decades could decipher.
Lucy bit the edge of her lip, knowing she had two options.
The easiest course of action would be to accept the money with a polite smile, leaning into her parents' aversion to discussing gauche things like finances. It wouldn't be the end of the subject- a gift this large would surely come with strings of some kind, be they literal or psychological, but it would avoid spoiling the holiday with an argument.
Her other choice was, of course, to ask any of the burning questions rolling around in her mind.
Why so much? Is it for something in particular? Is this specific amount meaningful? What is the catch?
"Oh, I just love these," her mom said, holding up a box of caramels wrapped in a bright green bow, the tone of her voice bordering on that of a Stepford wife.
Lucy gave her a placid smile and nodded, but the paper she still held in her hand felt like a ticking time bomb. She pinched in between her thumb and index finger, knowing in her gut that she should just slip it somewhere safe, say thank you, and move on.
That is definitely what she should do.
Roman was roused by the sounds of delighted squeals echoing down the hall just after dawn. Jey groaned next to him as he let out a tired chuckle.
"Merry Christmas," Naomi said, her voice scratchy, rubbing her eyes as she sat up.
"Too early," Jimmy grumbled, burying his face in his pillow.
"Come on, now," Naomi said, bending down to give him a kiss on the cheek, "we worked so hard to give the kids a surprise- we don't want to miss the excitement."
"Plus you know mom already has breakfast going," Roman added through a yawn.
Jimmy and Jey mumbled their agreement, and they each took a quick turn in the bathroom before heading towards the excited chatter in the living room. The twins raced ahead, excited as the kids themselves now that they were fully awake.
"Uncle Jey! Uncle Jimmy! Santa brought me a bike!" Tali, the older of Annie's twins (by a few minutes) came running to greet them, wearing a sparkling purple helmet on her head.
"Wow! Can I go for a ride?" Jimmy said with a big smile, making her giggle as he chased after her toward the bike.
Roman's dad was seated on the couch, smiling at the chaos surrounding him as the kids excitedly opened stockings and presents. In just the few short minutes it had taken for the four of them to make it to the living room, the kids had already scattered piles of wrapping and tissue paper in every direction.
The adults would exchange their gifts after breakfast while the kids played with their toys or crashed from the early morning excitement.
Before taking a seat amongst the sea of gifts, Roman split off to the kitchen to see if his mom and Cici needed any help.
"Morning," he said, grabbing a mug with a gingerbread house on it from the collection his mom had set out on the counter for everyone to choose from.
"Good morning, my boy," Carla said with a wide grin, wiping her hands on her poinsettia patterned apron, "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, mama," Roman said, smiling warmly as she wrapped her arms around his middle, "Merry Christmas, sis," he added, nodding to Cici, who was whisking together coconut milk and sugar on the stove for the pani popo.
"Same to you, Rome," Cici said with a smile.
"Need any help with the panikeke?" Roman asked his mother as he filled up his mug from the coffee pot.
Sika's mother had taught Carla all of her favorite recipes over the years so that the traditions could be passed down to her grandchildren. Roman knew she would be happy that her legacy was still being honored, even years after she had passed.
"You can help by keeping the kids out of our way until everything is ready," Cici said with a wry laugh.
"And bring some coffee to your father," Carla added, sifting flour into a large mixing bowl, "when we're done with all of this, you can help with the bacon eggs."
"Yes ma'am," he said with a nod.
He selected a mug with an old fashioned portrait of Santa on it and filled it to the brim with coffee. Being mindful of the flurry of excited kids, he carefully carried both mugs into the room, handing one to his father and sitting next to him on the couch. Sika nodded his thanks, his attention more focused on Tifa, Tali's twin sister, sitting on the arm of the couch next to him, showing him the brand new book about dolphins she'd gotten from Santa.
"Look Uncle Rome!" she said excitedly, holding up a brightly colored page for him to see.
"Very cool," he said with a smile.
After half an hour or so, all of the gifts had been unwrapped and the kids were growing restless for food. As promised, Roman wrangled a few of them and steered them away from the kitchen, playing How the Grinch Stole Christmas on the big tv right in front of the tent as a distraction.
With the kids settled, at least temporarily, Roman spotted his mom and Cici setting up the tables for the food. He took that as his cue to start the bacon and eggs, and his father must have had the same idea, joining Roman in the kitchen. They decided that Roman would handle the eggs and Sika the bacon, and Roman grabbed a couple of cartons from the fridge before washing his hands and grabbing them each an apron from the pantry.
Sika and him chatted a bit, catching up as they worked.
"So Lucy is spending the day with her family, I take it?" Sika asked, flipping over a few pieces of bacon in a large, sizzling pan.
"Yeah, she goes there every year," he said with a nod, keeping his tone casual even as he bristled at the subject. His father and he hadn't spoken much since their last blowout, "I guess Christmas Eve is the big celebration for them- her parents host a party for everyone they know."
His father nodded thoughtfully as Roman grinded pepper into the bowl of whisked eggs.
"Your mother keeps asking after her," Sika said after a quiet moment, "wanting to meet her soon."
"To me too," he said with a nervous laugh, "I'm hoping once things are a little less crazy I can finally introduce her to you two."
"She's pretty," Sika said, his tone even.
And there it was, subtle but clear as day - he had definitely seen the pictures. Roman wondered just how long he'd been waiting to bring them up.
"She is," Roman agreed calmly, tipping the eggs into the pan next to the one his father was tending the bacon in.
A heavy silence hung between them, the only sounds were the popping of the bacon grease and Jim Carrey's singing voice carrying in from the other room.
"Listen, son," Sika finally said, breaking through the tense quiet, "your mother threatened me under pain of death not to make a scene on Christmas."
Roman laughed in spite of the conversation he knew they were about to have.
Yeah, sounds like mom, he thought with a grin.
"But," he continued, "I'll just ask this one favor. If you're going to bring her home, I want you to be sure that you're serious - both of you."
"We are serious," Roman said firmly, growing irritated, "do you think we would still be together after being forced into going public if we weren't? Seriously, Dad-"
"Well, good," Sika said, cutting off Roman's defensive rant, "then I want you to bring her to New Year's. Your mother and I have already discussed it."
Roman was stunned into silence as he piled the perfectly scrambled eggs into a large service dish, covering it with a metal lid to keep them warm.
His siblings alternated hosting a New Year's Eve party every year, and this one would actually be the first in a while Roman that would be home for. His dad encouraging Roman to bring Lucy was a step in the right direction, probably. Hopefully. He tried to shove down the feeling that it was a well laid trap, focusing more on the idea that his mother had undoubtedly had a stern discussion with him.
"I'll check with Lucy to make sure she doesn't have plans already," he said, meeting his fathers eyes and keeping his tone neutral, "and if not, I'll invite her to Toni's. I can't promise she'll agree, but I know she wants to meet the family."
"Well, I'm sure you can convince her," Sika said, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips, "after all, you get your charm from me."
Roman grinned and breathed out a small laugh. As they finished preparing the eggs and bacon, they settled into a quiet rhythm, getting everything plated and set for the table.
While he still had his qualms about the invitation, Roman was excited by the prospect of bringing Lucy to a family holiday. He glanced up as his mom grabbed a carafe of juice for the table, and imagined Lucy in here with her, learning of all the old family recipes. Maybe he was being reluctant over nothing and she'd be welcomed in with open arms.
Before he could get too lost in thought, he heard Cici declare that breakfast was ready, and he rushed out of the kitchen to help with the chaos that ensued.
"O-ho, my favorites," Martin said, gleefully pulling back the wrapping paper to reveal the box of cigars from Lucy.
They were each on their last present, each taking a turn to open one at a time and then going around until every person had opened every gift. Her parents always saved the gifts from Lucy for last, making sure they received the proper fanfare. It was her mother's turn next, and she delicately removed the ribbon before unwrapping the bottle of perfume.
"Thank you, dear," Caroline said, holding out for Martin to see, "you can never go wrong with a classic."
"Too true," he agreed.
Both of their gazes now turned to Lucy as she pulled the tissue paper out of a large gift bag to reveal a beautiful, heavy blanket. It was a soft rose color, and was covered in a pattern that looked straight out of an old fairy tale book. There were trees, foxes, rabbits, flowers, mushrooms, all beautifully detailed. Lucy ran her fingers over a frog, the stitching of it so intricate she knew this had to have been done by hand.
"Oh my," she said, taken aback by its beauty, "it's so lovely- where did you find this?"
"Well, when you were flitting around in Europe for Thanksgiving," her mother said, unable to keep the ice completely out of her tone, "your father and I decided to go on a little trip, since it was just the two of us."
Lucy flinched internally at the pointed phrasing.
"We went to stay at a darling little inn near Martha's Vineyard, and there were a few artisanal shops just down the road," she went on, "A woman there ran her own shop, and she handmakes everything in it. That blanket is one of a kind, and I thought it looked like you."
"And I agreed," her father said jovially, "though, of course, your mother is always right about these things."
Caroline gave him an appreciative smile before standing up to collect all of the discarded ribbons, paper, and other miscellaneous wrapping. Every year Lucy offered to help tidy up and she was always rebuffed, so for a change she decided just to settle into her chair, admiring the swirls of golden thread filling the spaces between each design on the blanket.
After everything was cleaned and disposed of, her father excused himself for a nap, Skipper trotting off to join him. Her mother poured them each another cup of coffee, and the two of them sipped.
Lucy's gaze remained fixed on the sparkling tree, occasionally moving over to the flickering of the fireplace. She ran her fingers over the lush softness of her new blanket, doing everything in her power to focus on the thoughtful gift. But in the corner of her eye she could see the card from her stocking, the corner of the check poking out.
She had to know.
"Mom?" she started, mentally calculating the least incendiary way to go about her questions.
"Yes?" her mother answered, setting her coffee cup down carefully on its saucer and turning her attention to her.
"The check, from my stocking," she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth quickly, "it's very nice of you, and dad…" she trailed off, stalling.
"But…?" her mother said impatiently.
"I can't help but wonder," she said, steeling her nerves before she continued, "if there are any…I don't know, expectations behind it?"
"And what exactly are you implying, Lucy?" she asked, eyes narrowing as she folded her hands neatly in her lap.
"I'm not implying anything," Lucy answered with a deep sigh, "it just seems like an awful lot of money, even at Christmas."
Her mother fixed her with a hard look before raising her coffee cup to her lips, taking a long, slow sip, and placing it back down on the table.
"Your father and I just want to make sure that you're secure," she finally said, "I mean, you're traipsing around the world last minute, taking time off from work for a man you hardly know-"
"Oh my god, you can't be serious," Lucy interrupted, but her mother was having none of it.
"I can't be serious?" she asked in disbelief, her tone cutting, "do you honestly think I don't know when you're up to your old habits? I thought you had finally grown up, but it's clear that I was mistaken."
The words stung like a slap, and Lucy's heart pounded as furious tears welled in her eyes. She brushed them aside as she was hit with a swell of anger and crushing disappointment.
She had a stable career, a home she was proud of, and was taking a leap of faith for the first time in years. But deep down, all her parents saw was their reckless, indecisive, idealistic daughter.
She opened her mouth to defend herself, but the words wouldn't come.
"I think I'm going to take a nap, too," she said after a moment, her voice barely above a whisper.
She didn't wait for a response, instead turning on her heel and retreating up the winding stairs.
She curled up the soft bed and pulled the fluffy down comforter over herself. Even as she closed her eyes when her head hit the pillow, she knew that sleep wouldn't come.
"There you go, you've got it," Roman said, tossing a brand new football to Trey, Toni's oldest son.
Trey caught the ball and ran over to the massive oak tree near the fence, which they were using as their makeshift goal post.
He and Jey had taken some of the kids outside to run around and get their energy out while his brothers in law cleaned up. Another rule of his parents house was that whoever does the cooking does not do the cleaning.
Roman looked through the sliding glass door to see Naomi leaning against Jimmy's shoulder, both of them indulging in a late morning nap. He smiled softly at the sight, nearly missing the football as Trey threw it back.
The rest of the day passed by in a flurry. Presents were exchanged, an early dinner was served, and everyone argued over which movie to watch over hot cocoa, finally settling on The Year Without a Santa Claus.
As the Snow Miser was singing his tune, Roman took a picture of the kids on the floor all gathered in front of the tv. He texted it to Lucy.
'Wish you were here,' he typed out, 'I could use a kiss under the mistletoe.'
He felt a nudge from Naomi against his ribs as she peaked over his shoulder, reading the message.
"Shut up," he said with a bashful grin, hitting send.
After about an hour of fitful tossing and turning, Lucy had given up on sleep and decided to take a long hot shower. She took her time blow drying her hair before redressing in a soft, dark green knit sweater and a burgundy skirt.
She'd be expected downstairs shortly. They ate around three in the afternoon every year, and her parents always debated on whether the meal was considered lunch or dinner. Whatever it was, it was soon, so Lucy took advantage of the time she had left to pack up her bag and make the bed. Her only goal at this point was to salvage the rest of the day by being as civil as possible, then make a quick exit home.
Thankfully, her wish was granted, for the most part. She let a few passive aggressive remarks slide as they ate their Christmas ham, and was granted a bit of respite after the meal. A few days before Christmas, she'd called her mother to suggest that she bake them all a dessert this year. Her mother agreed, and they'd discussed a few ideas, looping in her father for input. They decided on a gingerbread cake with molasses whipped cream, a recipe that Lucy had had bookmarked for years and been eager to try.
Her parents sipped post meal coffee in the sitting room as Lucy worked, letting herself get lost in the process. She creamed the butter and sugar together in a stand mixer, combining the rest of the wet ingredients before adding the dry, just as she had a million times before. It felt meditative, going through the familiar motions, feeling the grit of brown sugar between her fingers. Once the batter was the perfect, smooth consistency she poured it into a baking dish, sliding it into the warm oven.
She cleaned the dishes as it baked, pouring herself her own cup of coffee, enjoying the serenity of her own company as the smell of warm spices filled the room.
"That smells wonderful," her father remarked, setting his coffee cup in the sink as she was gathering the ingredients to whip together the topping, the cake cooling on a wire rack on the marble counter.
"Let's hope it tastes just as good," she said with a little smile.
He hovered for a moment as Lucy pulled a hand mixer out from a low cabinet.
"You know," he said, his tone kind but serious, "your mother and I just want what's best for you."
Lucy suppressed a disheartened sigh, mourning the peaceful energy she'd created for herself only minutes earlier. Exhausted at just the thought of another confrontation, she simply nodded her head, pouring cold heavy whipping cream into the clear glass bowl.
"I know, dad," she said quietly, refusing to meet his eyes.
He exited the kitchen without another word.
A short while later they'd each finished large helpings of the cake, which had turned out even better than she'd hoped. The spices in the cake were balanced out perfectly by the richness of the frosting.
Her mother wrapped the cake up in large tupperware for her to take home, and Lucy gave them each a short embrace before wrangling Skipper and saying her goodbyes.
…
Halfway through her drive home, Lucy pulled over and parked in the lot of a shopping plaza. All of the shop windows were darkened, of course, and there was only one other car sitting at the far end of the parking lot. The vast emptiness was lit only by streetlights, the perfect kenopsian setting where, if this were a movie, her little yellow bug would break down just as it began to snow.
She turned off the engine and rested her forehead on the steering wheel, letting the tension of being with her family for 48 hours slowly uncoil. As she thought back over the conversations with her parents she couldn't decide what was more disappointing - their reactions, or the fact that she saw them coming a mile away. She had known from the second she saw that check that an argument would follow, but the mild satisfaction of being correct hadn't done anything to ease the blow. She took a deep breath, shuddering a bit as she released it. She felt her brows crease as she swallowed thickly, but she was too worn out to cry. Versions of this day had happened over and over again, and she refused to waste tears on this one. More than anything she just felt an all encompassing exhaustion- body, mind, and soul.
She checked the time and decided that it was late enough in the day to give Roman a call- she'd gotten a text and a picture from him a few hours ago, and it looked like the family was winding down. The phone rang twice before she heard his warm bass on the other end of the line.
"Hey, sweetie," he said cheerfully, "Merry Christmas."
She could hear the soft sounds of his family talking over one another in the background.
"Merry Christmas, Ro," she said, melting at the sound of his voice.
"How was your day?" he asked, "are you still with your mom and dad?"
She released a quiet sigh before answering.
"It was good," she lied, trying hard to keep her tone neutral, "they got me some really nice presents. I'm on my way home now - probably about an hour away. How about you? Did Santa stop by?"
He laughed softly, and Lucy felt instantly lighter at the sound, her own mouth curling up at the edges.
"Yep, Santa had a big drop off at the Reigns family this year," he said with a chuckle, detailing the elaborate set up all of the adults had put together for the kids.
"Wait, they put up the tent inside?" she asked with a laugh.
"Yep," he confirmed, sounding giddy, "and their excited screams woke everyone up."
"At six o'clock in the morning," Lucy heard someone grumble in the background, making both of them chuckle.
"That was Cici, she's not a morning person," Roman said, "better get used to that, sis. That baby'll be here before you know it."
Lucy smiled as she listened to them joke back and forth for a moment before the background got softer. She guessed that he had stepped into another room.
"I'm glad you called," he said, "I'm having fun with everybody, but I miss you. Even though you haven't even met my family yet- I don't know," he stumbled over his words a bit, "it feels like you're a missing piece of our crazy puzzle. Naomi said so, too, and the twins agreed."
Lucy felt her throat constrict at that, and the tears she was convinced weren't coming minutes ago now threatened to spill over. A pang of sadness and a whirl of acceptance wrestled inside of her, creating a maelstrom of emotion she was too spent to contend with.
"I missed you too, baby," she said quietly, keeping her tone airy, afraid that anything said louder might come out in a sob. She took a deep breath then, pausing until she knew she could speak in a lighter tone.
"I wish I could have been there," she said, her voice brighter, "sounds like you had a great time," she bit her lip before continuing, but something about feeling like a frayed raw nerve was making her more fearless than usual, "but you know, there's always next year."
She heard him inhale briefly before responding.
"Yeah?" he asked with a clear smile in his voice, "Think you can handle all of the craziness? I know we'd love to have you," he cleared his throat before he spoke again, "I would love to have you."
"As long as you're there, I know I can handle it," she said, surprising even herself with the certainty she felt in those words.
The truth snuck up on her as she reflected on what she'd just said. So much of her life felt like it was hanging in the air, but in her gut, she knew that Roman would be a steadying presence.
"Damn right you can," he agreed, and Lucy was full on smiling now.
"You said you're on your way home?" he asked.
"Yeah, I stopped and pulled over to say hi, but I'm heading there now," she confirmed.
"Ok, well, drive safely," he said, "let me know when you get there?"
"I will," she promised, "now get back in there and have fun. Give everyone my love, and I'll see you tomorrow."
"Will do, babe," he assured her, "see you tomorrow."
Lucy hung up the call and released a long breath, feeling the muscles in her neck and shoulders relax as her mood lightened. She shifted the car into gear, and turned on the radio as she resumed her drive. After listening to the tail end of one of those personal injury attorney ads, the music resumed, and a newer song she'd heard a few times over the past few months began to play. She smiled as she followed the moody harmonies, humming along.
…let love lead us, love is Christmas
Why so scared that you'll mess it up, when perfection keeps you haunted?
All we need is your best, my love, that's all anyone ever wanted…
The rest of the trip home passed quickly as she sang along to the radio, in much better spirits after talking to Roman. Once she reached her apartment she emptied out her car and piled everything in front of the door before taking Skipper for a quick walk. After the dog scampered up the stairs, Lucy unlocked the door and let her inside before gathering up the gifts from her parents and her overnight bag. She got everything through the door and kicked it shut behind her.
It took her a second to notice that her Christmas lights were lighting up the tree. She could have sworn she'd turned them off before leaving the other night.
"Need a hand?" a deep voice asked.
Lucy let out a short scream and almost dropped the bags before she saw a familiar face smiling up at her from the couch.
"Oh my god, you scared the hell out of me," she said with a huge exhale, her pulse racing from the surprise, "baby, what are you doing here?" she asked excitedly, dropping the bags in the middle of the floor.
She raced over to the couch where Roman was now standing, his arms open and waiting to embrace her.
"Well, we were finishing up at my parents' place when you called, and I wanted to see you," he answered, wrapping his strong arms around her as she flung herself against his chest. She inhaled the smell of him - coconut shampoo, fresh laundry, Roman - and felt warmth envelope her as they held each other.
"Plus," he continued, the rumble of his voice sending vibrations through his chest, "And correct me if I'm wrong, but it sounded like you could use a little extra holiday cheer."
Lucy smiled against him and nodded wordlessly. His hands drew her closer as he hummed his understanding, and he pressed a kiss to her temple. They stayed like that for a minute or two, simply enjoying each other's presence, and Lucy felt the last shreds of stress falling away.
"I think we should talk about whatever happened with your family," he said knowingly, rubbing a reassuring hand down her spine.
She felt a twinge of guilt for even attempting to hide something from him.
"Yeah, we probably should," she agreed softly, straightening to meet his gaze.
Roman was looking down at her with the softest expression, though a hint of concern shone in his eyes, and she felt a squeeze in her heart.
"But," he said, "I think we should talk about it tomorrow. How does that sound?"
Lucy slid a hand up to cup his cheek, smiling when he leaned into her touch.
"Do you ever get tired of being so wonderful, Ro?" she asked with a dreamy sigh.
In lieu of answer, he bent down and pressed his lips to hers, and as she returned the kiss, a silent tear escaped her eye and trickled down her cheek.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with everything she was feeling in that moment- trust, and hope, and, safety, and…
And.
They eventually made their way to the floor, removing one another's clothes slowly. Roman's hands slid appreciatively over every one of her curves as Lucy pressed kisses into every part of him she could reach. They made love right there, on the rug between the couch and the Christmas tree, and she basked in the sight of the multi-colored lights making Roman positively glow as he pressed into her. Before long she reached her peak, crying out his name, her legs trembling as his release chased hers with deep moan from his chest, and they collapsed into a euphoric, satisfied heap.
After a long while of soft kisses and whispered affection, they determined that they were both starving. Roman heated up leftovers from the many containers his mom had sent him home with - some of which he had been specifically instructed to be shared with Lucy- and they finished the meal by eating their fill of the gingerbread cake directly out of the pan, curled together under a soft knit blanket on the couch.
The fire Roman had lit in the hearth was dying down as Lucy felt her eyes growing heavy. She tucked herself into his chest, and he pulled the blanket up around both of their shoulders. As the last ember burnt out, just before she fell asleep, she thought that this might have been the best Christmas she'd ever had.