Page 115 of Make Me Want it Too

I pour her coffee how she likes it, and she takes it with a sleepy smile, a “Thank you, my love,” and a kiss on the lips.

I go back to flip the bacon, swaying and singing “All I Want for Christmas is You” by Mariah Carey. Hey, it’s a banger and everyone knows it.

Macy sets her mug down as I reach for her. She takes my hand, and we dance around the kitchen. I serenade her between kisses, spinning her and dipping her and nibbling her neck until she’s giggling.

I almost burn the bacon.

Noah and Livvy wander out just as the timer for the cinnamon rolls dings.

After we eat, Noah and I clean up in the kitchen while Macy and Livvy sit in the living room, cross-legged on the floor, FaceTiming with Bex. She’s showing them the reason she couldn’t drive down for Christmas—two feet of snow dumped overnight. Though, she doesn’t seem upset one bit about being snowed in indefinitely in a tiny cabin in the woods with her new guy and their huge dog.

“So,” Noah whispers, “are you going to give her the ring today?”

“No. I want to wait until she’s not expecting it. I have it planned out.”

Noah chuckles. “Of course you do. Should Livvy and I start looking for a place of our own?”

“Of course not. I love having you guys here. Unless you two don’t stop fucking on the kitchen counter. We eat here, bro.”

Trees lit with white lights line the drive up to my parents’ house in the hills, Seattle twinkling below. Their house is trimmed with even more lights than usual. Garland around the gate, wreaths on the door, a twelve-foot tree in the front window.

My mom throws the front door open before the four of us have even made it up the steps. She insists on giving us each too-tight, verging on too-long hugs as we come inside, tears already in her eyes telling us how happy she is to finally have a full house again for Christmas.

“Come in, come in. Oh, you look lovely. Dinner is almost ready. Can I take your coat? Jack! Come get the kids’ coats!”

My dad comes around the corner, whiskey glass in hand. “Of course, my darling.” He smirks at my mom from under his thick mustache.

My mom’s already got the ham in the oven. The kitchen smells like brown sugar apricot glaze and cloves. Yeast rolls are covered, rising on the stove and I can picture her up, as early as I was, to get everything started. It reminds me of being in the kitchen with her growing up, her teaching me how to cook while we listened to her favorite pop songs from the eighties and nineties.

I squeeze Macy around the waist, and she reaches up on her tiptoes to kiss me on the cheek.

My mom is beaming at us from behind clasped hands, but I don’t acknowledge her. I don’t need her asking about grandbabies at the dinner table. Yet.

Macy sinks against me, and I lean down to whisper, “I need to give you your Christmas present.”

She looks up at me and shakes her head. “Oh, no. I can wait until after dinner when we all open presents.”

“Nope, it can’t wait.” I can hardly stand still from the nerves and excitement.

“How about I go bring it out?” my dad suggests.

“Perfect.”

So, we go and sit on the sofa next to the fireplace and the giant tree, overflowing with presents all meticulously wrapped in matching paper and shiny bows.

I take Macy’s hand and she looks up at me with big eyes. A silent question. I squeeze her hand twice. A reassurance.

Noah and Livvy are across from us. She’s basically bouncing in Noah’s lap. We’ve been planning this since before Thanksgiving. It took a lot of coordination to not let Macy find out. Secret phone calls and emails. My parents even made the trip to pick her up from the airport.

The sound of impatient padding comes from down the hall first. Nails clicking on the hardwood.

And then the big golden ball of fluff comes trotting into the living room. She heads directly for me and Macy, wagging her tail so hard her whole bottom half is wriggling.

“Oh my gosh!” Macy squeals. The golden retriever nudges Macy in the shoulder before flopping to the floor while Macy scratches her behind the ears.

“She’s almost a year old,” I say.

“You got me a puppy!”

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