Page 116 of Emma
Itwasnice. The air was no longer brittle with caution. It wasn’t the stiff formality of that first meeting in Ellie’s office. It was people arriving at someone’s home on Christmas Day, hands full of food, faces flushed from the cold, ready to share something.
Emma drew back and brushed her hands down her jumper, her eyes teary as she looked from Freya to Carmen and Ben. “Right,” she said, her voice a little unsteady. “Let’s eat before I find a way to burn something at the last minute.”
Everyone laughed, but as they followed Emma into the kitchen, Vanessa hung back for a moment. She looked at the hallway. To the coats hung side by side and the boots jumbled together. Then came the sound of voices overlapping, and it didn’t just feel as though they were hosting a dinner. No, it felt like family.
Emma had barely finished settingdown the stuffing dish before Freya patted the chair beside her with such authority that Emma couldn’t have argued even if she’d wanted to.
“You’re sitting here,” Freya declared as she folded her arms across her chest and grinned. “Right next to me.”
Emma laughed, thrilled that her sister felt confident enough to say something like that. Just weeks ago, they were worrying that Freya would feel uncomfortable here, but now…now, she was a part of the furniture, and it showed. “Am I now?”
“Yes. But—” Freya shot a quick look towards Vanessa, who was sliding a dish of roasties onto the table. “I’m not picking sides. I’ll sit with you for dessert, Mrs Hughes.”
Vanessa’s brows shot up as a smile curled on her mouth. “Mrs Hughes? That’s a bit formal for Christmas Day, don’t you think?”
“Sorry, I keep forgetting.” Freya, now flustered, shook her head. “I’ll sit by you later, Vanessa. Promise.”
Vanessa leaned over and pressed a gentle hand to Freya’s shoulder. “Deal.”
Emma sat down with her plate, suddenly aware of the joy bubbling beneath the surface. For days, she’d rehearsed this moment in her head, imagining how awkward or heavy it could be. But here Freya was, looking as pleased as punch to have them all around one table, claiming seats like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Carmen had relaxed into her chair with a glass of wine in hand, her shoulders loose and her face relaxed. Emma knew how hard she worked, so today was absolutely all about her enjoying herself and keeping the impending doom of her next NHS shift from her mind. Ben nursed an alcohol-free beer, quietly surveying the spread like it was his job to mentally catalogue every dish before tucking in.
“Right,” Vanessa said, clapping her hands, her voice laced with excitement. “Eat before I start crying over how perfect the roast potatoes are.”
Freya laughed so hard that she nearly tipped her chair back. Emma quickly steadied her, her heart in her mouth at the mere thought of an injury today.
Plates were passed around, gravy was ladled, and roasties were fought over. The conversation flowed easily, with Ben praising Vanessa’s roasties and claiming they were the best he’d ever had, while Carmen had admitted she’d messed up the first three batches of red cabbage before finally perfecting it. And then Freya gleefully recounted how she’d beaten Emma at the basketball arcade game last week.
“You only beat me once,” Emma protested as she stabbed at a carrot.
“Once is all it takes.” Freya grinned. “Now that I know I can take you on, I’ll be better prepared next time.”
Carmen laughed at that, and then Emma caught Vanessa’s eye across the table. Her wife’s smile was the kind that said, ‘See? This is happening. This is real.’
Emma lost herself in her thoughts. This wasn’t just a polite gathering or keeping the peace…it was family. Complicated and still very new, but family all the same.
Freya nudged Emma’s elbow and beckoned her closer, lowering her voice just enough for Emma to hear. “I like this. It feels normal. Like we’ve always done it.”
Emma slid her hand under the table and gave Freya’s a quick squeeze. “Me, too. I’m glad you’re happy.”
As the laughter rolled on, Emma sat back in her seat, soaking up every detail. The candles continued to burn, the passing around of dishes didn’t slow, and as Freya rested her head against Emma’s shoulder, she realised Christmas had never felt like this before.
And right now, she never wanted it to feel any other way again.
By the time the last of the turkey had been cleared and Vanessa had finally relaxed now that dinner was over, everyone was leaning back in their chairs, groaning about how full they were.
But then Freya sat up suddenly. “Dessert time, so it’s time for me to move seats.”
Emma lifted a brow. “Dessert already? Y-you can’t possibly still be hungry.”
“I’m not hungry, not really. But I can always find a bit of room for dessert.” Freya rose from her chair. “And I’m keeping my promise.”
Vanessa frowned. “Your promise?”
“I promised I’d sit by you for pudding,” Freya said as she marched around the table and plonked herself into the chair at Vanessa’s side. “I’m not picking sides.”
Everyone laughed, but the sound that hit Emma the hardest was Vanessa’s. It was one of those laughs that crinkled the corners of her eyes. When she slid an arm around Freya’s shoulders, Emma swooned for her wife all over again.
