Page 30 of Merrily Yours
“I love you,” I reply.
Contentment washes over me, as it often does when I pause to take stock of our life together.
It stays with me through our shower together. It stays as we dress in our matching family pajamas and crawl into bed together. It stays as we kiss some more, wishing each other a Merry Christmas between kisses. It stays and stays and stays.
Contentment stays, and I know it always will. And for that, I will always be grateful for Bex, and Gabe, and this family that so quickly accepted me as one of their own.
Eventually, we both fall asleep, sated and exhausted and so incredibly happy.
“I’m only a morning person on December 25th.” — Unknown
“Merry Christmas,mon chou,” Hugo whispers. I feel the bed dip, and my eyes crack open to see the very early dawn light streaming through the curtains.
I’ve never been one for early mornings, but, thankfully, I married a man who is the epitome of “morning person.” He’s sitting on the duvet next to me with a steaming mug of coffee, little Christmas trees hand painted around the perimeter. A soft smile graces his lips causing the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes to deepen.
“Merry Christmas, my favorite cabbage,” I croak, my voice gravelly from sleep. “Is that for me?” I ask hopefully, eyeing the mug.
“Of course, but—” He pulls the mug away when I reach for it. “It’s still too hot. You’ll burn your tongue.”
A small smile tugs at my lips, and I reach up, patting his cheek. “Always looking out for me,” I sigh.
“Over thirty years we’ve been together, and yet you still drink the coffee too soon and burn your tongue. Every damn time,” he mutters, leaning in to place a kiss on my forehead. He sets the mug just out of my reach, ignoring my protestations.
“Why did you even bring it up here if you weren’t going to let me have it?” I raise an eyebrow at him in question.
“To get you out of bed,” he declares. “Everyone is downstairs already, waiting for the sleeping beauty—our fearless Bardot matriarch.”
That information perks me up. While I do love to sleep in, I don’t want to keep everyone from the day’s festivities. With everyone under one roof last night, I did sleep more peacefully than I have in quite a long time. I feel as though my heart is whole when we are all together.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed as Hugo stands, offering me his hand. He gives me another peck on the nose once I’m standing before him and then one on the lips because the man can’t help himself. “You have five minutes,” he whispers against my lips. “Don’t touch the coffee yet. I’m heading downstairs—know that your eldest will riot if he can’t start passing out presents soon.”
“It’s never taken much to make Gabriel riot,” I challenge. Hugo’s laugh rumbles in his chest, the sweet smile still gracing his lips.
He walks toward the door, turning before he leaves. “Yes, well, I’ve always said he’s a lot like his mother in that sense.” He leaves before the pillow I lob hits him. Itthwacksagainst the closed door instead and lands in a heap on the floor.
Four minutes and thirty seconds later, I’m walking down the stairs as Gabriel is coming up.
“There you are!” He throws his hands into the air, looking much more like the little boy that used to fuss at his siblings than the thirty-two year old man he’s supposed to be.
“Merry Christmas to you too, my cabbage.” I get to the stair step right above him and smooth his hair back off his forehead. “Patience has never been your strong suit.”
I bop him on his wrinkled nose and then take a sip of my coffee, now the perfect temperature.
He waves his hand in front of his face. “Don’t bop me! It’s been so long since I’ve been Santa! Let me have this!”
“Okay, darling,” I soothe. “Let’s get started, shall we?”
We continue down the stairs together until I see that everyone is lounging in the living room, not nearly as anxious to start our morning as I’d initially been led to believe. Everyone except Elodie, that is, who seems to be vibrating with excitement as her father tries to distract her from the giant pile of presents under the tree.
She spies me and her hands fly up above her head. “LaLa!” she screams, waddling toward me. “Peh-sants!”
“Yes, love. Lots of presents!” I reply as she barrels into my legs, wrapping her chubby arms around them. Her brown curls poke this way and that, hazel eyes shining up at me. “Do you want to open one?” I ask her. She runs and jumps back into Anders’ lap, clapping wildly.
Gabe looks around the room. “Can I start now?” His excitement matches Elodie’s, while everyone else seems just as tired as I am.
Ben smashes a couch cushion over his head, grumbling, “Why is everyone so loud?”
Jules is sitting next to him and replies, “It’s not our fault you finished the whiskey by yourself last night.”
