Page 30 of Unwrapped

“It’s so beautiful,” she says for the millionth time. “It doesn’t even look like the same place.” She stands in the middle of the living room and spins around, looking in awe at the change in the room.

“I’m pretty sure it is. And you said the same thing on Wednesday when you were here.”

I admit, the place was transformed with just the furniture, but a few hours later, Miranda showed up. Like a whirlwind, she came in through the garage and grabbed the bags from our shopping spree. She had so many in her hands, I had to rush over and take them from her before she fell over.

After a kiss that got my blood pumping, I started to lead her to the bedroom only for her to sidestep me. Instead of cooking me dinner like she promised, I offered to cook while she turned my house into her version of a Christmas card.

The tree is lit with white lights and matching ornaments above a beautiful red skirt. The house is fully furnished now and filled with poinsettias. I hadn’t told her, but I hired someone to put Christmas lights outside the house and wreaths on all the front windows. When she arrived, we spent ten minutes outside looking at the lights while I held her in my arms, shielding her as best as I could from the harsh December winds.

My regular dishes were put away and replaced with the Christmas themed ones we bought last Friday, along with the most ostentatious tea set I’ve ever seen. According to Miranda, Queen Elizabeth herself would approve of it.

“Are you going to set the table, sweetness, or are you going to just walk around the house?”

She smiles at me, but she sets the new table. She even goes so far as to pour our water bottles into two large Christmas themed goblets she just had to have.

“I don’t know how I’m ever going to leave this place now that it looks like this.” She wraps her arms around me as I plate our food.

“Who says you have to leave?” I bend down and kiss her nose. She takes the plates from me and puts them on the table. When we’re both seated, I grab her hand underneath the table.

“I’m pretty sure you’ll be sick of me soon.”

“I’m pretty sure that won’t happen.” We eat in silence for a while until I speak again. “How do the Moores celebrate Christmas?”

“My mom is freaking out more than normal. My brother is coming home for Christmas for the first time in I don’t know how many years. He’s a civil engineer in the Army and stationed in South Korea. Mom is making sure everything is perfect, and she’s driving me and Daddy nuts in the process.”

“Are you and your brother close? You’ve never mentioned him before.”

She eats for a bit, probably mulling over her words before she speaks again. She puts down her knife and fork and looks at me.

“Andrew’s six years older than I am. He was out of the house when I was twelve, so no. We’re not particularly close. He had his own friends and interests and didn’t have much time for me. I felt like an only child growing up.” She continues to tell me more about her brother.

I reach over and grab one of her curls and gently pull it.

“I bet you were really cute as a kid.”

She rolls her eyes and laughs. “I was chubby, had acne, wore glasses, and had braces. Plus, I was really, really awkward. My nickname in school was grandma because the kids said my voice sounded like an old lady’s. So, no. I was not cute at all.”

“I’m going to need lots of pictures, not just the family picture in your mom’s office. Better yet, video,” I tell her.

“No way!”

“Tell me more about Christmas with your family.”

“So, on Christmas Eve,” she says, “we order a ton of Chinese food and the four of us eat, dance to Christmas music, and play games. Some of the neighbors stop by. We open one present each, and then we eat the Christmas guacamole, made by yours truly. My mother insists we go to midnight mass each Christmas Eve. She pretends to be religious, but that’s the only time she insists we go. My dad cooks a feast for Christmas Day, and family stops by until late in the evening.”

“Tell me more about this Christmas guacamole,” I say. “And how come you’ve never made it for me?” I reach over and kiss her temple.

^^^^

“About dinner with my mother on Friday.” She looks up at me as she loads the dishwasher and I finish clearing the table. “My brother and his wife are coming. Their daughter might come too.”

She visibly swallows, and when she shuts the dishwasher door and turns it on, she looks up at me, clearly nervous. “Okay,” she finally says with a shoulder shrug. “I’m not worried about your mom. Moms love me.”

“Met a lot of moms, have you?” I ask.

“I’ve had two boyfriends, and their moms were crazy about me.”

I ignore the comment about the moms and focus on the boyfriends. “Two boyfriends. I will find them both, and I will kill them.” She’s taken aback by my words, but her eyes light up and she laughs.

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