Page 59 of The Christmas Reunion

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The doorbell rang, and Gus started barking and spinning in circles as Mindy tried to make her way to the door. She knew who would be on the other side of it, especially since he had just texted her a bit ago to let her know he was on his way. But that didn’t stop her heart from fluttering or a smile from spreading across her face when she pulled the door open to reveal Noah standing on her stoop holding a small mountain of presents.

“Look at you,” she said with a chuckle, stepping back to let him in the house. “You really pulled out all the stops.”

“Don’t get too excited,” he advised. “Most of these are for Gus.”

“Exactly as it should be.” Mindy laughed as she followed him into her living room, trying to keep the dog in question from tripping Noah as he made his way to the tree.

Once he’d set the presents down around the Christmas tree, he turned and pulled her into a warm, tight embrace. Mindy pressed her face against his chest, not caring that he was still wearing his coat. A puffer coat, this time, not the wool coat that he so frequently donned.

In the days since the wedding and Christmas party, she’d noticed a much more casual side of Noah. Gone was the time of the freshly pressed suits and tailored jackets, and they’d now been replaced by jeans and button ups or sweaters. She had to admit that she thought he looked incredibly handsome in both types of outfits, but she felt like he was finally allowing a part of himself that had been locked up tightly to breathe, and she loved that.

Noah kissed her on the top of her head, giving her one more squeeze before murmuring, “Merry Christmas,” and letting his arms fall to his sides.

“Merry Christmas to you too,” she said, plopping down on the floor next to the tree while Noah walked back to the entryway to take off his coat and boots.

By the time he came back into the living room, she and Gus had the gifts all separated and were waiting eagerly for him to join them. She watched happily as Noah made himself cozy on the floor next to her, and they began opening their presents.

Gus had a pile containing at least ten presents, while Noah and Mindy only had one apiece, which was what they’d agreed to. And to no one’s surprise, almost every single box for Gus contained a new sweater.

She and Noah held each one up, allowing Gus to inspect them all. He barked happily at each one of them, but one sweater in particular—a brown one that was decorated to make Gus look like a little gingerbread man—had him spinning in circles, yapping like mad.

Mindy laughed. “I think he wants to wear this one.”

Noah quickly agreed and began working to get Gus dressed in the cutest little sweater she’d ever seen. She watched as Gus lapped at Noah’s face while he tried to pull Gus’s front legs through the holes of the shirt, her heart swelling at how much they already seemed to love each other.

She had to admit that they’d come a very long way since when they’d first met.

Once Gus was dressed in his new sweater and the rest of his presents had been opened, she and Noah started on theirs. Noah persuaded Mindy to go first, despite the various protests that she threw out, and she reached forward to grab her box.

The wrapping paper was cute, with little Christmas trees wearing sassy leather boots, and she wondered if they could turn that print into fabric for an apron. There was a box underneath all the wrapping paper, and she opened that too, letting out a gasp when she realized what was inside.

“Noah,” she breathed, her hands grazing over the fabric as she slowly, reverently, lifted the apron out of the box. “How do you still have this?”

“Could never bring myself to throw it out,” he answered with a shrug, grinning at her with satisfaction as he drank in her reaction.

Mindy couldn’t believe her eyes as she stared at the very first apron she’d ever bought. It was a plain, pale pink, since Mindy hadn’t been confident enough to wear the crazy prints that she loved so much back then. And there was a stain over the bottom left pocket where she’d spilled a bit of cooking wine and forgot to clean it off in time.

As she held the thing in her hands, a flood of memories came rushing back to her. She had perfected her technique for croissants in this apron, had worn it for hours and hours as she practiced her cake decorating. She had cried in this apron when recipes hadn’t gone according to plan. And she had learned and grown as a baker in this apron.

Tears pricked at her eyes as she glanced up at Noah.

“Thank you,” she whispered, cradling the apron to her chest. “I can’t really tell you how much this means to me.”

“You don’t need to,” he said happily. “I already know.”

They shared a look, and Mindy was struck by how different things felt between them this time around. Things felt softer, surer, and she found a comfort in his presence that put her mind at ease. And the apron that she held in her hands felt like the perfect symbol of that feeling.

She nodded toward Noah’s box. “Your turn.”

He grinned, reaching down to pluck it off the floor and began unwrapping it. She watched his face closely as he did so, marking the moment when the paper fell away and he took in what the picture frame he was now holding contained.

“This is…”

His words trailed off as his face lit with awe.

He reached up with a reverent hand, touching the glass softly as he ran his fingertips over it. She knew exactly what was inside of it, had worked overtime to track it down and get it framed in the few days between the holiday party and Christmas Day. It was a picture of Theresa’s house the day it had been built, with his aunt standing in front of it, beaming proudly at the camera.

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