Page 52 of Christmas Ever After
I try not to let myself feel a sting of disappointment. It’s been a long while since I wanted anything as badly as I wanted that kiss, but I can’t kiss Raff, for goodness’ sake. Three weeks ago, this man was my enemy. I shouldn’t be gettingthisclose to him, let alone stroking his hair and cuddling him, and certainly not wanting to kiss him that much. What am I thinking? What are either of us thinking?
He vaults to his feet and brushes himself down like he’s trying to brush off the lingering madness that made kissing me even cross his mind, and paces for a few moments, and everything feels weird and awkward between us, and I decide to do something to break the tension.
I get to my feet and do an impression of Sofia’s young voice. ‘Best Friday night ever!’
It was just to show that whatever moment of lunacy that was, it’s all forgotten and we can carry on as we were, and he laughs and then watches me seriously for a minute, his head tilted to one side. ‘Same, because of you. Thank you for coming.’
‘Thanks for having me. I’ve never done Christmassy things like this. I’ve never known what it’s like to have a big family at Christmas. I love how close you are to them. The perfect family.’
‘I don’t think any family is perfect, but they’reyours, aren’t they? Every family is individual and there’s no right or wrong, they justare.’
‘A nice sentiment.’ Really, it makes me want to say ‘awwww’ again because he’s right, isn’t he? No matter what your family are like, you only have the one – whether by birth or the one that finds you along the way.
Raff goes around the room to turn all the Christmas lights off, and I stand in front of the huge Christmas tree and look up at it. It’s been years since I even bothered to get a Christmas tree and now I wonder why I’ve stopped making the effort. Is there anything cosier than curling up on a December night with the main light off and just the fairy lights on? Why have I forgotten everything that once made Christmas my favourite time of year?
‘Maybe it really is going to grow at midnight on Christmas Eve…’ Raff comes to stand at my back, loops both his arms around me from behind, and tugs me against his chest, squeezing me to him.
The rest of the room is dark now, the Christmas tree is the only thing still shining and it makes this hug feel extra magical, and everything I thought just now about not getting close to him goes out of the metaphorical window because nothing is more important than the way his arms feel when they’re around me.
‘It’s a distinct possibility.’ I appreciate the way he referencesThe Nutcrackerat every opportunity. ‘And then your home will be invaded by hundreds of vengeful mice which you will have to slay leading your army of toy soldiers and be rescued by a young ballet dancer with a slipper.’
‘I might’ve helped save you from a mouse, butthisyoung ballet dancer has helped me more than she knows.’
It’s been a while since I was youngora ballet dancer, but his words make me melt and my hand slides over his forearm and gives it a squeeze.
‘I’d love you to spend Christmas with us.’ His chin rubs against my head as he speaks. ‘We’ve spent so much time together this month and the thought ofnotseeing you on Christmas Day isn’t a good one. I don’t want you to be alone, and I can’t imagine spending Christmas without you. Sorry if that sounds weird or forward or pushy or anything else, but… stay with me on Christmas Eve. Erin, Quentin and Sofe all stay here and we do the whole “reindeer hoofprints in the garden and snowy footprints from the hearth to the Christmas tree” thing for Sofia. I don’t know how much longer she’ll believe in Santa, but Uncle Raff is not going to let that belief die without a fight.’
‘I don’t remember ever believing in Santa.’ I glance up at him. ‘I remember hearing my parents have a fight about who got to put the presents under the tree when I was really young.’
‘Well, it’s never too old to start.’
‘Believing in Santa?’ I laugh. ‘I appreciate the sentiment, but at thirty-eight, I might be atadtoo old for that.’
‘No one is ever too old to believe in magic.’
That ‘awww’ comes again and I feel his smile against my hair. ‘The Christmas tree used to be so wonderful. Endless possibilities of what could be in all those colourfully wrapped boxes waiting to be torn into on Christmas morning. It’s not funwhen you’re an adult. Now it’s just the same old toiletry sets that you don’t use and chocolate that you don’t like.’
‘There’s chocolate that youdon’tlike? I didn’t think anyone actively dislikedanychocolate.’
‘If I never see another bar of Toblerone, it will be too soon.’
He laughs again, and when he stops, I answer his earlier question. ‘Okay.’
It’s the thought of going back to my empty house and thinking of the warmth and kindness of the Dardennes… I already know I’m going to spend Christmas wishing I was here with them, and what I thought I’d never agree to a few days ago, now I can’t imagine saying anythingbutyes to.
‘Yay!’ He presses a kiss to my cheek from behind and then groans. ‘Can you pretend that you didn’t just hear a fully grown adult man utter the word “yay”?’
I laugh and tilt my head back until my lips find his jaw and brush against it. ‘Trust me, I willneverforget, but you have my assurance that I will never tell anyone about this oversight in your manhood.’
He laughs but it quickly fades into comfortable silence. He seems lost in thought, and I get the feeling he simply needs a hug, and I let my head rest against his chest and feel his weight leaning on me.
I rub his arms with my left hand and my eyes fall on a snow globe ornament hanging on the tree with a photo of Biddy and Claude inside it and sculpted wording that reads ‘Fiftieth Christmas’. I know Raff’s handiwork well enough to know who made it.
I let my fingers curl around his and lift his hand until I can touch my lips to the back of it. ‘He would be so proud of you.’
We’re so close that I feel his sharp intake of breath, but I carry on, knowing he knows who I mean without having to say it. ‘You make the most beautiful snow globes. No one could ask fora better way to be remembered than to have passed that talent on to the future generation, andyouwill pass that on to Sofia, or Erin’s new arrival, or your own kids one day. Your grandfather will never be forgotten. Not by your family, and not by any of the thousands of people who own a Dardenne snow globe. His work is in people’s houses, wrapped away in boxes to be got out every year, shaken up by parents and children who look into the glass and believe in magic. That’s such a special thing.’
He lets out a breath against my hair and I feel his weight get heavier where he’s leaning on me, and he’s quiet for such a long while that I’m not sure he’s going to answer at all.
