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4
It’s Beginning to Look a lot like Christmas
Amber
There wasn’t any snow in Florida, no hint to the impending happiness that December brought. There was only a sharp breeze that blew through your soul every time you stepped outside in the early morning air that gently reminded you that Christmas was just around the corner.
Winter in Florida was completely different from the white Christmases I had grown up with in Tennessee. Building snowmen and having snowball fights along with sled races were an essential part of winter break, but here, people bundled up as the first cold front blew through the humid town, even though it was still in the seventies.
Holiday music played over the radio in my car as I drove to the shopping plaza to do some last-minute errands. It was cold this morning by Floridan standards, but since I had been here for so long, I had bundled up, too for the cold morning, wearing a white, form-fitting sweater Ryan had bought me last year from my favorite boutique.
Despite the time of year, my mind raced with thoughts of anything but a holly-jolly holiday, and I definitely couldn’t fight the fear of disappointing my kids with the gifts that would be under the tree this year. I tried so hard to remember that I came from nothing and that presents under the tree had never fazed me as a child. All I had cared about was Christmas dinner with my family and getting to spend an entire day with both my parents who worked up until Christmas Eve to provide for us.
It was hard to remember my roots now that I was living in such opulence. It was even harder to show my kids a different life than what I had been giving them, and now, I regretted it. Christmas wasn’t about how many gifts were hiding under the tree. It wasn’t about how outrageously expensive or big they were.
Christmas was about family.
And I loved my family more than my next breath.
Ryan and I had made subtle changes since Thanksgiving. We tried to be discreet about them so the kids wouldn’t notice, but sometimes, I honestly believed they were all smarter than we gave them credit for. Surely, they would notice that we had stopped going out for Friday night dinner at our favorite local steakhouse and that Mom and Dad hadn’t gone out for a date in weeks? I knew the youngest twins wouldn’t notice, but that didn’t mean our middle schoolers weren’t more observant.
Ryan insisted that they wouldn’t mind, that going out for dinner wasn’t a game-changer in their lives, but I knew they would notice that the number of gifts under the tree would be drastically less than last year. We still hadn’t told them about the canceled trip to Colorado, even though that was the first major change we had made. We had lost some money due to hotel fees and flying fees, but it was nothing compared to the thousands the trip would have cost us.
This year, we would have a staycation, fix up the house, and go to the park for barbecues. There would be no snow skiing, no puppies from Santa Clause – no extravagance.
Holiday traffic was in full swing. People were bumper to bumper on the main roads, and everyone was anything but kind as they fought over parking spots in the busy shopping plaza. I managed to snag a spot at the end of the lot by a miracle. I eased out of my black Escalade and locked it before trekking up to the stores, my little booties clicking against the tarmac, the early morning air blowing my red locks all over the place and sending a chill down my spine all at the same time.
The kids had still been sleeping when I left. Ryan would be getting up soon to get ready for work, and I had promised to be back before he needed to leave, although he never minded taking time off work to look after our kids. But with our impending loss of the company slowly ticking down, we needed every extra penny that we could get.
Christmas was in five days, and I was still looking for stocking stuffers and something small for my darling husband. We had originally decided not to swap gifts this year, but I couldn’t give him nothing, not when he worked so hard to provide for our family, to give me such a luxurious life. Since Thanksgiving, he had been working day and night to try and fix his father’s mistakes, but every time he found a solution, a door closed in his face, and he had to start again from scratch.
He came home late at night, eyes red-rimmed and strained, body sluggish as he fell into his recliner. Last night, I insisted he sleep in a little so I could finish shopping. It took a bit of convincing, but he eventually caved and succumbed to sleep in his worn-out recliner before I could even give him dinner.
He was a good man, always had been.
And I hated seeing him so stressed over this situation.
I hurried into the shop, grabbed a cart, and dashed through the aisles, grabbing whatever I could that fit the small budget. I wanted my kids and my husband to have something to open on Christmas morning. I wanted to see their smiles, regardless of the bleak situation.
I insisted we would make it through this.
And we would. We had too.
* * *
Ryan was sitting at the breakfast table when I entered the kitchen, a coffee cup in his hand, his eyes focused on his phone. He sighed heavily before putting his phone down and looking me over.
“You are so beautiful,” he murmured before taking another sip of the steaming liquid, “in those damn boots and that white sweater. I want to take you right upstairs and show you just how much I love you, Ames.” I flushed at the compliment and glanced down at the form-fitting snow-white sweater he had bought me last year for Christmas. I had paired it with a pair of white boots and jeans for the chilly morning. I knew the white contrasted nicely against my skin and bright hair.
I also knew that white was one of his favorite colors on me, too.
“Thanks, hun. I think I finished all my shopping.” I dropped the bags onto the counter and walked over to him. He opened his arms, and I sank into his lap, sitting on his big legs as I dropped my head to his strong shoulder. Kissing his rough cheek, I nuzzled my cold nose into his warm neck, soaking in the moment of intimacy, memorizing it just in case he had to leave us. “Did you get some sleep?” I whispered, my lips brushing against his neck. He shivered and nodded, his grip tightening on me.
“Would have been better if I was waking up to you instead of a cold bed,” he hotly whispered.
“Then I couldn’t have gotten you something for Christmas, baby.” I curled into him. His taut muscles bunched under my touch. It had been almost ten years since he was last in the army, and his body was still toned and sculpted, his muscles ready to jump back into the line of fire.
I tensed at the thought of him leaving us, of this beautiful man going across seas again to fight for our country, to fight for us to have a better life. I didn’t want him to go, no matter how selfish the thought was. I didn’t care. I wanted him here with me. I wanted him next to me in bed every night. I didn’t want to spend another Christmas without him.
