Page 112 of When in December

“Nonsense,” said Sarah, still holding tight on to my hand. “Stay.”

“I couldn’t.” I shook my head. “My job is complete, though I’m glad that I was able to see how you all liked it. I hope you have a wonderful holiday here in this home together.”

“We’d love to have you here for the day, Poppy. The more, the merrier. Unless, of course, you have other plans for Christmas Eve?”

Pausing, I didn’t want to lie. I shook my head. I’d promised my parents that I would be home to spend all of tomorrow with them, knowing that today would be full of to-dos, unable to think about anything else, even after I left.

“Plus, the kids are excited to see you again,” reasoned Sarah.

“Stay.” Aaron’s soft command broke through the kids’ cries of delight over the few small presents I’d helped Aaron wrap for them, already tucked beneath the tree.

They continued shouting, begging to see if they could open one early.

I hesitated, staring at Aaron and the softness in his expression, even as he stood across the room from me. Not bridging the gap.

“Okay.”

Sarah at last released my hand. “Amazing.”

“I’m Nathan. It’s good to meet you, Poppy,” Nathan introduced himself properly with a polite smile. “Seems you’ve met the rest of the family already.”

“It’s good to meet you too.” With everyone standing around, I started to feel the nerves creep back in. Casually, I addressed everyone. “There are cinnamon rolls for a late breakfast.”

The kids raced me into the kitchen. Oz quickly followed behind.

The morning, full of sugar and icing, melted into the afternoon, and then everyone gathered around the fire, sharing stories and laughter. A symphony of happiness echoed through the walls of the cabin as the kids played the games that I’d stacked in the reading corner. I refilled snacks and empty glasses of wine for Sarah and Nathan, who were impressed I’d managed to get their favorite red for dinner.

As they gathered around the table, perfectly catered in a way that looked like it had been homemade, following the family preferences, they appreciated my honesty that, though the cabin kitchen could handle a full holiday meal, this one was not my doing.

Especially not when the kids laughed, outing my gingerbread mistake.

At the sight of my face turning as red as the Christmas decorations, Sarah admitted she wasn’t much of a cook either.

The kids were also happy to share the story of her burning mac and cheese on the stovetop.

Aaron reached out next to me where we sat at the table, running his thumb back and forth over the back of my hand to soothe my embarrassment as much as my laughter that I was unable to hold back.

Soon, the kids had changed into pajamas, printed with candy canes, and nestled on the couch to watch classic holiday movies with the throw blankets wrapped around their shoulders. Nathan fell asleep between them within the first twenty minutes. The glow of the Christmas tree bathed the room in a soft light, casting a warm and inviting atmosphere over the cabin.

I was unsure if I’d ever felt more content than when I watched the family bond and enjoy each other’s company, every soft smile and comfortable adjustment as they made themselves at home pulling on my heartstrings.

I took a second to capture it all in my mind. All day, it felt as if I was meant to be here, in this home I’d helped create for these precious seconds.

Aaron followed me back into the kitchen, where I started to rinse plates before organizing them into the dishwasher.

A few weeks ago, none of it had even been here.

Arms wrapped around my waist from behind. “You look happy,” Aaron murmured into my ear.

“Everything is just how I wanted it to be,” I stated, standing up straight to lean back into him. He smelled like fresh pine and some kind of spice. “Do you know if Sarah is happy with it?”

“I don’t think I’ve seen my sister look so pleased in a long time,” he confirmed.

“Good.”

“You’re staying the night?”

“I don’t think that would be appropriate.”

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