“So how have you been, dear? You’re always so busy; I hardly get to talk to you,” she says to Candace.
“I know. I’m sorry. Everything is good though. We’ve been really busy with the Nutcracker and also rehearsing auditions for our next run.”
“What’s that going to be?”
“‘The Tempest.’ It’ll run in February.”
“I’ll have to get tickets for that.”
“Mom, you don’t have to come to all of her performances,” I tell her as they continue to fill the stockings.
She sets one down to take a sip of her wine before saying, “I know I don’t have to, but I want to.” When she looks to Candace, she adds, “It’s fun for me to go and to know it’s you up there dancing.”
Candace’s face lights up as my mom says this. “Thanks, Donna. But you don’t need to buy tickets. I can get you the same passes I get Ryan. It’s not a big deal.”
Once everything is filled, they hang the stockings back up above the fireplace when Candace says, “Did Ryan tell you about his newest shoot?”
“No.”
“He was commissioned to shoot one of the lead principals in the company to be displayed at the Metro Gallery downtown for a special invitational showing,” she brags with a huge smile.
When my mom turns to me, she nearly scolds, “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I just got the gig a few days ago.”
“Apparently the director, Peter, is friends with one of my old college dance teachers whose girlfriend works at the Henry Gallery, who Ryan works closely with now. Anyway, a few of his pieces are being displayed and caught Peter’s eye, and when he found out the photographer was my boyfriend, he commissioned him for this photo shoot.”
“That’s wonderful,” Mom says. “It amazes me the things you two have going on in your lives.”
I laugh at my mom’s excitement as Candace continues to chat with her while we start putting the gifts under the tree. When everything is done, we say goodnight and Candace and I head up to my room to crash.
I wake up to the smell of Candace’s shower and the commotion from downstairs. I lie there for a moment, trying to fully wake up, when she walks out of the bathroom, dressed and looking amazing for so early in the morning.
Reaching out, I grab on to her arm and pull her on top of me. “Morning.”
She giggles and then wraps her arms around my neck, kissing me softly. Pulling back, she stares down at me, whispering, “Merry Christmas,” with a hint of a smile.
“I love you,” I tell her as I tangle my hands in her hair and bring her back down to my lips.
Remembering this day last year, I was at her house after her parents tossed her out the night before. She was upset and quiet, only wanting to come home with me to hide from everything going on in her life. And now . . . now she’s mine, and that day seems like years ago. She’s happy and content in my arms, with a whole new family that she fits into flawlessly. I’m happy to have another Christmas with her, and one that isn’t buried under so much darkness. Not that the darkness isn’t there, but the rim of light is promising.
“I’ll wait while you get ready,” she says as she shifts off of me.
After a quick shower, I toss on some clothes and we head downstairs into the madness.
“Uncle Ryan’s up!” Connor yells out with excitement, making Candace and me laugh, as if Christmas couldn’t start until I dragged myself down here.
“Morning, Mom.”
“Good morning. You better hurry and grab your coffee because these kids aren’t going to last much longer,” she says, walking out of the kitchen, stopping to kiss Candace on the cheek before going into the living room.
Candace and I grab our coffees and then head into the other room. I make myself comfortable on the floor as Candace sits on the couch behind me. I lean my head back and she plants a kiss on my forehead followed by a wide smile before Bailey plops down on my lap.
“Wyan,” she calls out, finally starting to get the hang of my name as she clings her tiny arms around my neck.
She squeals when I start blowing raspberry kisses on her neck.
“You ready to open presents?” I ask, and when her eyes widen as she nods, I call over to Trevor, “Find me a few for this princess.”
After opening several gifts with me, she trades me in for Candace’s lap. I sit next to them on the couch as she helps Bailey unwrap the tea set we bought her. They open gift after gift, and when a box wrapped in black paper lands on my lap with Candace’s name on it, I interrupt her and Bailey, teasing, “So you can buy me a gift, but I can’t get you anything?”
She shoots me a grin and then turns her attention back to Bailey as I peel back the paper to find that she bought me a big tintype kit for my camera.
“I saw you eying that tintype at the Metro Gallery,” she says to me.
“This is perfect.” I’ve been wanting to work with something a little bit different and for Candace to know that, picking up on the fact that I spent a little more time observing that piece than the others on display makes it clear how gelled we’ve become with each other.
“Candace,” Mom says as she walks up to us from behind the couch. “Ryan made me tuck this away.” She hands Candace the gift I ordered for her and was having my mom hang on to so that Candace wouldn’t find out.
She takes the small, wrapped box from my mom and then shakes her head as she mutters, “Ryan, I don’t . . .”