Page 39 of Under the Christmas Tree

Her mom wanted holidays with her whole family. It was what she’d always had, and, sure, Katie sometimes felt smothered and unseen in that, but they weren’t going to get through this without trying to see each other’s sides. And she could see her mom’s side. Her mom’s family had always stayed near home. Everyone always gathered together for the holidays. When she’d had kids and become the host for Christmas, it had become a huge part of her year, her identity. While Katie couldn’t give up her life to do exactly what her mom wanted every year, she could at least show it wasn’t because she hated her mom and didn’t want to spend time with her.

So, after many long conversations with Maggie about it, they’d decided to host a New Year’s Eve dinner with all of her family who were still in town.

Maggie had gone all out helping her prepare. They’d made all of the foods Katie had grown up eating for New Year, they’d set up a wonderful tablescape for the evening, and Katie was making a large vat of hot cocoa. Sometimes, it was an olive branch, but other times, it was hot cocoa and the understanding that both parties were working together to move forward.

But that didn’t stop her from worrying.

She still hadn’t actually seen her mom since their argument. Over a phone call, you couldn’t see someone’s reactions, you couldn’t see the emotions they didn’t want you to. In person, everything was laid bare. Katie wasn’t sure how she felt about that for either side.

Maggie laughed as her conversation with Mariana wrapped up, promises to see her tomorrow ending the call as she turned back to Katie.

When she caught Katie watching her, she tilted her head, smiling in that way that crinkled her eyes and made Katie’s heart ache with how much she loved her.

She walked into the kitchen, wrapping her arms around Katie’s middle and leaning her head against Katie’s back. “You’re worried.”

Katie breathed a laugh, still stirring the mixture in the pan. “And I thought I was doing such a good job of hiding it.”

Maggie nuzzled her softly. “You were. I just know you well.”

Katie hummed, pressing back into Maggie a little more. It wasn’t new, Maggie had always known her, but there was something so special about being so truly known, about the person she loved more than anything else in the world understanding her so completely. She’d been so busy ignoring her feelings for Maggie that she’d always thought it impossible to achieve such a thing with a partner. She’d heard about it in songs, books, movies, and from people she knew, but she’d always known nobody would ever know her like Maggie did.

It just so happened that she hadn’t realized nobody would everloveher like Maggie did either.

She’d been so busy holding everyone else at a distance because they couldn’t measure up to her yardstick that she’d missed the fact that her yardstick was Maggie, and she was right there.

“It’s just complicated, you know?” she murmured, embarrassed that she didn’t quite know how to put her feelings into words.

“I understand. Missing my family Christmas turned out to be easy. That’s nice in some ways, but it also means nobody is working on those relationships. We’re probably better off without each other, we’re all fine with that, and we’re just going to keep going through the motions when we have to. That’s fine. But, this? This is being vulnerable and open with each other, with no real idea how the other person is going to take it, and all you have to cling onto is the knowledge that you want a relationship. That you want to have your mom and your family in your life while also respecting the life you need for yourself, and the obligations you have in it.”

“Yeah, everything was easier before.”

Maggie breathed a laugh, her breath hot through Katie’s shirt in a way that made her shudder. “Was it?”

“Yes,” Katie said, knowing she sounded a little petulant.

Maggie laughed louder. “So, we’re just ignoring all those calls where Irene pretended not to know how doctors’ schedules work? Or all the messages demanding you drop everything and move home? Or the way she just moved herself into your bed with no plan on leaving for two weeks?”

“Yes.”

“Well, at least you’re consistent.”

Katie sighed, putting the spoon down before she spun in Maggie’s arms to hold her close. “Okay, fine. That wasn’t better and was probably always leading to a fight, but… what if it never gets better? What if I ruined everything?”

“People make mistakes, love. They say things they don’t mean, or things they do but in the wrong way, most especially when they’ve been keeping them bottled up for too long. The only thing you ruined was a version of you that never existed. Now, you and your mom get to know and love each other for who you really are. That’s infinitely better than before.”

The buzzer sounded and Katie clutched Maggie closer for just a second. “I sure hope you’re right.”

Maggie smiled, pressed a quick kiss to Katie’s lips, and said, “You stir. I’ll get the door.”

Katie could do that. Stirring was useful. It gave her something to do other than standing in painful discomfort.

Maggie buzzed them in, and Katie was impossibly glad that her siblings and niblings came in being their loud, regular selves—maybe a little bit extra loud, just to smooth things over. She turned, smiling and waving, to greet them, her heart clenching painfully as her eyes found her mom automatically in the crowd.

Irene took a deep breath as she handed Maggie a bottle of wine and took her coat off.

Adam made a big show of talking about how it felt like snow outside, and how he was certain a blizzard was going to hit before midnight.

Maggie laughed from across the room. “Big talk with only a few hours to go.”

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