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Chapter Thirty-Five
In previous years I had missed the early Christmas morning excitement, vaguely stirring when Tammy and Caitlin’s children had belted down the wooden hallways with their excited chatter. High-pitched screams of delight echoed through the house as they took to the stairs down to the great room like a heard of baby elephants.
Christmas with Colby was different, except from the part when he dragged us all out of bed at the ass crack of dawn. Once he’d achieved this he hovered around the tree, fists tight with excitement as his hungry eyes frantically scanned the packages.
Following his gaze I also checked out the carefully tied up Christmas gifts and pretty neat boxes tied with bows and, fuck me, if he didn’t launch into an intense negotiation with Billie about how many gifts he could open before lunch.
We had spoken at length and decided what Colby had been given from us should be opened before Logan arrived. This was so as not to press the point of what we’d given him.
Both of us had been of a mind where experiences were far greater gifts than material ones. We’d noted his interest in the water-based activity schools close to the beach house, and to this end we had organized some personal lessons for the new paddle board we’d bought him, a wet suit, life jacket, and some private sailing lessons with instructional handbooks to go with them.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw James taking pictures and my heart clenched when I saw how happy he appeared be at being included of our Christmas celebrations.
When I looked at the images later they had brought a lump to my throat. Colby’s eyes danced with excitement, his normally shy looking smile totally lost in the moment of joy and his open honest smile told me it was a present he’d always remember.
James and Tricia’s gifts to Colby were more conventional ones and all related to his gaming, which he had quickly bargained his way into being allowed to go to his room and test them out, before his father arrived.
After Colby had been excused, James gifted Billie an elegant and expensive tennis bracelet and turning to Tricia he looked a little nervous, shrugged his shoulders, and gave her a small jewelry box as well. “I hope you don’t mind, but Billie mentioned you were coming, and I didn’t want to leave you out,” he mumbled as the rest of us looked on.
Tricia looked stunned, unsure whether to open the gift in front of us or not. “Can I save it until later?” she asked, in a far less forthright tone than we’d been used to.
“If you want, but I’m not saving mine,” James said, like an eager adolescent and tore at the brightly wrapped package she’d given in return.
Holding it up he chuckled. “Perfect,” he muttered as he spread a bright green gaudy Christmas sweater in front of him with a flashing Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer on the front.”
“I try,” she shot back sarcastically, and we all chuckled.
“Billie insisted we didn’t spend much money on each other. She challenged me to come up with something just for her,” I told the others, while pulling out a few small boxes and one a lot larger.
“Here,” I said, handing her a red velvet box with a white satin ribbon around it. Smiling warmly she opened the box and began chuckling. Peering in she glanced up at me again and her eyes brimmed with tears.
“Jeez, don’t start blubbering, you crazy woman,” I chipped in, as she lifted a single golden Rolo out of the box.
“Your last Rolo?” she questioned, delighted and held it close to her heart like some lovesick teenager.
“Of course…and you’re welcome,” I said, grinning as I leaned in and stole a chaste kiss.
“Your turn,” she prompted, and I lifted a large flat object I thought was a painting. Reaching out quickly, I took the heavy frame from her. I eyed a similar package I had for her and glanced back toward the one she gave me with more than a little curiosity.
When I peeled back the paper I grinned. It was a personalized Good Disc with a message at the center. “This disc is awarded for the category of Emerging Baby Daddy to my amazing rock star Sawyer Michael Wild.” My heart clenched in my chest and I leaned in to hug her.
“This is perfect,” I told her, pulling back to look at her. She wrinkled her nose. “Not really, I suck at this stuff, but at least it’s not socks and underwear,” she joked.
“Okay, you’d better have this one then since we’re doing wall art,” I said, handing her the unmistakable wall hanging, wrapped in tissue and tape.
Smiling sweetly, she tore off the paper then glanced at it vertically, puzzled at what it could be. Taking it from her I turned it horizontally so she could read it. I knew she’d know what it was, but not really understand it.
It was an image of a soundwave, a series of yellow and white vertical lines on a dark gray background. At the center in front it had a glass case in the frame with a small, personalized USB key inside. The rest of the memory stick looked like a solid silver key, which was inscribed with a date from two weeks before.
“Can you pass me my laptop, James?” I asked, nodding at the small notebook sitting on the table beside him. Billie’s puzzled gaze shifted from me to the laptop and back to me. “Take the key out, darlin’,” I urged and watched her delicately lift it out of the box. Her fingers wrapped around it and I noted she held it tight in her hand.
“Okay, stick it in there,” I said pointing to the USB jack in the side of the laptop I had opened by then. The laptop sounded the presence of the new device. I opened the window and searched for the file. I’d already ensured the sound had been set but I’d plugged in my earphones and handed them to her.
“Is this a secret message?” she asked, wondering why I didn’t want anyone else to hear. I watched as her eyes danced with anticipation, her breaths a little shallow and sharper the more excited she became. When I hit the play button for a second she froze until her eyes welled with tears and they flowed down her face. Taking the painting again she stared at it in wonder as she swallowed back wave after wave of emotion. When the track ended she covered her eyes with the heels of her hands and she sobbed.
Tricia shot to her feet obviously upset to see Billie cry. “Fuck, Sawyer, what have you done?” she bit out as she made a dive for Billie, who held up her hand to stop her.
“You …” she started and stopped and I grinned like some sick, sadistic man who gained pleasure from seeing his woman in tears, but I knew what they didn’t: they were happy tears. I knew because I had reacted in the same way when I had experienced the final result.
