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A few hours later, with Mary in bed and everyone else gone home for the night, Thomas and I are alone and surrounded by tall stacks of wrapped presents.
‘I thought you told me you were done buying gifts after the Barbie Dream House?’ I eye the presents Thomas gathered from all our various hiding places around the house. ‘That looks like a significant amount more than when I last counted.’
‘Most of those are from Santa.’
‘Uh-huh.’ I roll my eyes. ‘Mary is so spoiled.’
He shrugs. ‘It’s good for her.’
‘Yeah.’ I sink back into the sofa next to him enjoying the multicolored glow from the Christmas tree. ‘I guess it is.’
He shifts beside me, reaching behind him. ‘It’s good for you too.’ Thomas hands me a long, cylindrical tube.
‘How long have you had this shoved under the couch cushion?’
‘Never mind that.’ He gestures to the carboard tube with a squashed red bow on it. ‘Open it.’
‘Hold on.’ Leaning forward, I slide my present for Thomas out from under the sofa. ‘Turns out we had the same hiding place.’ Hefting the large, heavy but slim wrapped box, I drop it in his lap. ‘You open this first.’
Knowing Thomas, the tube he gave me probably contains the Hope Diamond. There’s no way I’m following that.
I grimace at the box, nervous. ‘It’s just something small, really.’
He kisses my cheek. ‘Thank you.’
Thomas is one of those annoyingly slow gift openers. Sliding his finger under the tape, peeling it back as if the wrapping paper is made of gold.
By the time he finally gets to my present I’m too relieved to be anxious. Even more relieved when a slow smile spreads over his normally serious face.
It’s a framed black and white picture from our wedding this past summer.
It took Thomas four months after Mary and I moved back in with him to convince me to get married. For real this time. Though I was confident Thomas loved me, loved us, I was still skittish as paperwork between Kayla and the state was finalized and Mary started therapy to deal with the knowledge that her mother gave her up.
When I finally said yes, Thomas hadn’t wanted to wait. So we eloped – this time to Hawaii, not Vegas.
Actually, it turned into more of a destination wedding than elopement when Thomas’s family tagged along. Which was fine by me. Because they’re my family now too.
Bell being Bell still hums Elvis’s ‘Blue Hawaii’ every time Thomas and I kiss.
She hums it a lot.
‘Who took this?’ Thomas stares at the picture, still smiling.
It captures the moment after our vows when Thomas and I took Mary by the hand, swinging her in her grass skirt between us as we walked down the beach.
‘I had someone from the resort take it.’ I look over the frame, nervous about giving a photograph to a photographer.
Everyone in the family, plus George, Susan and even Raymond, hold sparklers around us. Everyone save Chase who has Mike Hunt in one arm, King Richard in the other – both cats in bow ties, hissing. I’d like to think they were unhappy over their close proximity to the sparklers, but I rather think they were hissing at each other.
‘I love it.’
I let out a sigh of relief. ‘Yeah?’
‘Yes.’ He leans over, kissing me.
When he straightens, far too soon, his smile is more thoughtful. ‘This will be the first picture of me in my house.’
‘I know.’ Standing, I take the frame from him and walk over to where all eight stockings are hung. ‘That’s why I think this is the best place for it.’ I lean it on top of the painting, which probably cost more than a car, that hangs above the mantel.
