Page 73 of All in December
“I’m hungry,” Emma adds, sitting on the chair at the table.
Benji and Sam join her, and they look eager to eat, but I know it’s just because they want their presents. It’s a miracle we’re even holding them off this long. Nash helps me finish everything, and we bring the food over to the kids so we can all eat together. I’ve never had a Christmas like this—with this much laughter and noise. It feels good instead of overwhelming.
When the food is gone and our coffees are refilled, I stand and nod toward the tree.
“Alright,” I say. “Presents?”
Sam cheers and Emma squeals while Benji runs over to the tree to start organizing presents by name.
We take our time with it. Each kid opens one gift at a time, torn open with gasps or giggles or a muttered “Whoa, cool,” and sometimes a full-blown debate over who gets to play first.
Eventually, they move on to playing with their new gifts, and Nash and I cuddle up on the couch together, watching the scene unfold in front of us like something out of a movie. Theroom is filled with so much joy, it makes my heart feel like it’s going to explode. There’s torn wrapping paper everywhere and boxes of toys, and it feels like the five of us are going to start making new traditions.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a Christmas morning this loud or chaotic,” I murmur. “Or perfect. Thank you, Nash. For spending it with us.”
“I want to spend every day with you,” he says, nudging my shoulder with his. “Let’s let them play for a minute. Come to your room with me?”
I nod, standing up from the couch to follow him. When we get to my room, he closes the door behind us. It’s still messy from this morning with the bed half made, but neither one of us seems to care.
“Okay,” he says, grabbing a present off the dresser that I certainly didn’t wrap. “I snuck this in here earlier and was gonna wait till later, but I want you to have it now.”
He hands over a small box as I sit on the edge of the bed and open it slowly. Inside is a photo. One I didn’t know he had or one that was ever taken.
It’s the picture of us on the day we made cinnamon rolls. I’m mid-laugh, and Nash is looking at me with so much love in his eyes.
“Flip it over.”
I do, and see something written on the back of it:You didn’t just change my life, Caleb. You’ve helped me see my forever.
My throat tightens. I blink a few times before looking up.
“Nash…”
“I wanted you to have something to keep with you. Even when we’re apart,” he says before leaning in to kiss me.
“This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten, thank you.” Iswallow the lump in my throat and reach for his gift. It’s wrapped in the only paper I had left—blue with candy canes—and sealed with an uneven line of tape. “Your turn.”
He smiles, then starts peeling back the paper. When he gets the top off the box, he pauses, mouth twitching into a smile.
Inside is a set of matching pajamas—red and black plaid flannel pants and soft thermal shirts, one in his size, one in mine.
“Caleb! These are perfect,” he exclaims, a little surprised.
“You said you wanted matching pajamas, so I got them for us. The kids too, if you don’t think that’s overboard. They’re just in a separate box I hadn’t given them yet.”
“Absolutely. We’re all wearing them, baby. Thank you for doing this!”
He huffs a laugh, still staring at the gift, like it was truly a big thing.
“There’s a note at the bottom,” I say.
He lifts the pajamas and pulls out the folded scrap of paper I tucked under them.
I never thought I’d get to have this with someone. I’m glad it’s you.
When he looks up again, his eyes are suspiciously shiny. “Caleb.”
“Yeah?”
