It's cold. Colder than usual for California. We got home yesterday and I'm pretty sure we brought the New York chill with us. We got home late last night, leaving the whirlwind of New York behind. It was late, so I stayed one last night against Tommy's firm chest in the distinct comfort of his home.
As much as that moment and every moment alone with him has been a freaking dream, I couldn't wait to get Mia this morning. Being away from her this long was tough. Video chats and endless pictures are not the same as actually getting to hold her in my arms or hear her laugh throughout the day. I think Tommy was a little excited too because he insisted we pick up breakfast after getting her, not wasting any extra time this morning in getting out the door.
After picking up Mia and grabbing said breakfast, he drove us back to our place. Tommy and I decided that it would be best to talk to Mia sooner than later. To tell her everything. But we haven't quite made it that far. The plan was to make some hot chocolate, because everything goes better with hot chocolate, and for me to start the conversation with her alone. Then Tommy would come in to answer any questions she might have. But as soon as we walked in, Tommy caught sight of the yard. The very yard that still carries the broken presence of what Mia witnessed.
I could see the tense in his shoulders as he scanned the vision that was left standing. As soon as Mia chased Stella to her room, he took off outside without a word. He didn't need to say anything for me to know what was coursing through that head of his.
The thick misty air has created a wet, sleek blanket across the yard. The sky is dark, that heavy layer of clouds turning everything gray. It makes it all feel so muted, empty, lackluster. It's almost as if the universe can feel the unsettled nerves flashing across the yard at this moment. Like it knows lingering pain is being held hostage in the broken remnants of the playhouse. My brother created a pile of the mess, compiling the scraps into one area. But the damage is still apparent.
Coming back home, leaving our bubble of New York should have been terrifying. The thought of returning back to reality, of figuring out exactly what we are outside of a mystical vacation land can be worrisome. But I didn't have any of those fears. I was actually excited to return home. To bring what we had there into our everyday lives. Until I remembered the mess we would be coming back to. The reminder of what I left behind.
The moment we left New York, this very scene began playing in my mind. It's not just a shattered playhouse. It carries a lot more meaning than that. And the fact that Tommy hasn't left that yard since he walked in tells me just that.
I've been standing in this very doorway for the last several minutes. I want to move, I really do. I want to sprint across the yard and hold Tommy's hands in mine, calm the look of alarm and dismay flashing across his eyes. I want to remind him that I'm standing right here, unharmed.
But I also know he needs this.
He needs to be the one to pick up the pieces, to put it all back together.
"I knew he would fix it!" Mia's bright voice causes me to jump slightly.
I slowly turn to look down at her smiling eyes as I place a hand on her shoulder. "He's going to try."
"He fixes everything," she says, leaning her head against me.
He sure does.
"Hey, Mia. Why don't you go play in your room? I'll be there in just a minute. I actually have something I wanted to talk to you about."
She skips off to her room chanting something about her softball glove as I turn my gaze back to the busy man out in the yard. The cold drizzle outside has coated the shirt now clinging to Tommy's body. He didn't even stop to put a jacket on once he got a good look outside. I told him about it. Told him everything that happened while Vince was here. But I think there's something about actually seeing it that prompted his body into action.
I pull my sweater closed before stepping outside. The wall of icy wetness hits my face, causing a shudder down my torso. I keep moving forward, trying to reach him.
He appears to have multiple piles of wood and scraps scattered in front of him. He reaches for a larger plank before pausing, his eyes scouring the different piles at his feet.
"Tommy," I say from behind him, slowly taking another step forward.
He turns to see me, his body quickly gliding to mine as his eyes take in my shivering form. "You're already freezing," he says, wrapping me up in his arms.
"I think you should come inside," my voice bounces off his chest as I nuzzle my face against him.
"I'm almost done. I just need to-"
"Tommy," I interrupt him, pulling myself back to look at his eyes. My fingers wrap around the sides of his shirt, keeping his body in contact with mine. "This will all be here tomorrow. It doesn't need to be put back together this very second."
"It really won't take long. I just need to figure out which pieces are still usable and which ones-"
I press my lips to his, choosing a more effective way to stop his frantic rambling. The tension in his body slowly drops as his hands find my face, gently holding me while my lips part just enough to feel the warmth of his tongue on mine.
"We're okay," I whisper against his lips. "He didn't hurt us. The playhouse is only an object. One that I know you'll fix. But not right now."
His forehead falls against mine, a deep breath leaving his body. "He could have done a lot worse, Amber. He could have hurt you, hurt Mia. He could have-"
"I know," I acknowledge without him having to finish that thought. "But he didn't. We're both right here. Safe."
His head slowly nods up and down, but I can still sense the reserve he has. It's easy to get wrapped up in what if's. I've done it a lot when it comes to Vince and the storm he rains down. But it doesn't do any good to stew in the possibility of a worst-case scenario.
"Hey," I bring his eyes back to mine. "I'm going to go talk to Mia. Just like we planned. Maybe you can make a cup of hot chocolate for everyone and bring it in?"
There's a smile on those perfect lips of his now. One that warms the cold air around me. And then it slowly begins to disappear. "You sure about this? You think she's going to be okay with it?"
My thoughts fall back to the smile she had watching him begin to fix her playhouse. The sense of knowing that he would, the joy in seeing him follow through with the expectation she had already built for him. That look she had seeing him was the exact opposite one that filled her face with fear and heartbreak just a week ago as she watched it get torn to shreds.
"I'm sure. And I think she's going to be okay. But...are you sure? This is a pretty big step."
That smile of his stretches across his face again. It's wider this time, reaching his eyes as he pulls me back against him. "I'm sure."
When I make my way into Mia's room, she is sprawled out on her bed, Stella against her side. The two of them basking in the cozy blankets and warmth of the house. It's actually a sight to be seen, the two of them. It's like they were always meant to find one another. That thought brings another smile to my face.
I slowly make my way across her room, sitting down beside the two of them. Stella's head pops up for a brief moment, almost as if she's checking to make sure I'm a welcomed guest. I appreciate the protection detail. When she sees that it's me, her head drops back down on the bed.
I'm not quite sure how to approach this conversation. Tommy and I talked about it on the plane. I know this is what we both want. We want to be open with Mia. Tell her everything. Let her know exactly where my heart has fallen. But I'm worried. I don't know exactly why. I just know this is a scary topic to approach. And I don't even really know what I'm supposed to say to explain it to her.
I take a moment to collect my thoughts, gather my breaths and steady my heart. "Do you remember what I told you when we left New York? Why we were moving to California?"
She nods, her eyes still trained on Stella as she continues to pet her. "You said that sometimes mommies and daddies need a break. That sometimes they do better apart than together. And that we were going to move closer to grandma and grandpa and uncle Trey."
I smile again, her memory of that conversation a bit of a shock to me. "I did. And I said that we were going to try something new. Figure out the next steps together."
Her eyes shoot up to mine. "Did we figure it out?"
A laugh falls from me at her question. "I think so. But what do you think?"
"I think I like it here," she answers with a small smile.
"Yeah? What do you like most?"
"I like being with grandma and grandpa. I like playing with uncle Trey and painting with auntie Lacy. I like going to the beach and my friends at school. And I like Tommy." Her hand reaches for Stella, scratching the side of her ear.
"You do?"
"Yeah. He always plays with me when he's here and you smile a lot when he comes over. I like it when you smile."
Speaking of smiling, I can't seem to wipe the sappy one off my face right now. "You make me smile too, you know that right?"
"I know, mommy."
I watch as she continues to pet Stella, leaning her head against her fluffy shoulder. It's a picture I could really get used to. "I actually wanted to talk to you about Tommy and me."
Her eyes lift from the comfort of Stella's soft curls. I don't know why I am so nervous. Okay, I know why, but I thought this would be easier.
"Mia, sometimes when mommies and daddies don't work together, they find other people that they work better with." Okay, I'm making absolutely no sense and the very confused look on her face tells me just that.
"Is Tommy my new daddy?"
What? This just got so much more complicated. Leave it to the five year old to take my cluster of words and turn it into that. I mean, my lack of clarity in word choice didn't help the matter.
"No, sweetheart. Your daddy still loves you very much. And he will always be your daddy no matter where he lives or who I'm..." God, how do I explain this? If you've ever been curious about the definition of epic failure, this is it. Right here. Amber Hill, crashing and burning.
I take a breath to compose myself, trying to figure out the best way to reexplain this.
"Okay. You know how your Uncle Trey met Lacy? How they love each other and now she's part of our family?"
"Yes."
"Well, it's kind of like that." Okay, I'm making progress here. At least her eyebrows aren't scrunched together anymore.
"You love Tommy?" she questions.
There's that smile again. "I do."
Her tiny fingers trail Stella's back. "And he loves you?"
"I do," Tommy says from the door, hands full of three mugs of hot chocolate.
Her eyes light up as he passes one to her. The first thing she does is check for marshmallows which are spread across the surface.
He hands me my cup next as he sits beside me on the bed. "What do you think about all of this?" I ask, waiting to hear what she has to say.
She takes a slow sip, slurping up the melted marshmallows and chewing them slightly. "I like it. Does this mean Stella is moving in?" She quickly perks up, causing both of us to laugh.
"Not exactly," I respond, her eyes dropping.
"Can I be in your wedding like Uncle Trey and Auntie Lacy?" she perks up.
Obviously, I'm still failing at this whole explanation thing. I guess comparing myself to the newly engaged couple wasn't my finest moment.
"We aren't getting married," I say quietly.
"So, you love each other. But I don't get to live with Stella and you aren't married?"
"Right."
"Okay," she shrugs.
"So, you're okay with this?" my hand slides into Tommy's before I even register the motion. My body needing contact with him, acting on that desire without a conscious effort. His fingers twist in mine, showing the same sense of need.
"Yeah. Can we play catch now?" she asks as she reaches for the glove Tommy got her.
Innocence. A priceless treasure worth holding onto for as long as you can.
~~~
"The Grinch hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season! Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason. It could be his head wasn't screwed on just right. It could be, perhaps, that his shoes were too tight. But I think that the most likely reason of all may have been that his heart was two sizes too small."
I've officially been replaced.
One day with Tommy here, after my terrible explanation of love to Mia, and she's chosen a new reader for her bedtime routine. I actually find it quite fitting that she chose this particular story for Tommy to read. My girl has some good intuition.
I walk by the room, with a load of laundry, dropping it in the machine before walking back toward the living room. But I pause by the door as I hear Tommy's voice sail into the hall.
"They'd sing! And they'd sing! AND they'd SING! SING! SING! SING!" Tommy's voice fills the room with every sing he says, each one louder than the one before it.
Mia's giggles fill the space, my heart beating from my chest. My shoulder falls to the wall as I listen to more of the story. I know I really should give them this moment and stop being such a nosy listener, but the fluttering in my chest has me glued in place.
Each time the Grinch speaks, Tommy's voice changes, taking on an evil old grumpy tone. I can hear Mia's laughs though they grow quieter as the story nears its end. This is usually the point where her eyelids grow heavy and her head snuggles against my chest. I move slightly, just enough to see the two of them through the crack of the door. Tommy is sitting up slightly, his legs out across the bed. Mia's tucked in tight under his arm, her head against his chest, those droopy eyes dropping just as I figured. But the sight of the two of them so comfortably lounging, the calm and security Mia seems to feel in his arms has me melting. I don't know how it's possible to fall in love with someone over and over again. To continue to fall deeper each and every day. At some point you should be maxed out on the love you can give, right?
"'Maybe Christmas,' he thought, 'doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas... perhaps... means a little bit more!'"
His voice has dropped quieter, his words hitting me softly. I stay rooted in place, listening to the rise and fall of his voice. The way it continues to drop quieter toward the end of the story, letting me know she must be falling asleep.
"Goodnight, Mia," he whispers, slowly placing her down on her bed as he slides out from beneath her.
She says something next, it's quiet, I almost don't catch it.
"Are you going to fix it?" she whispers, her groggy voice making it even harder to understand.
I watch as he settles back down beside her. "Fix what?"
"My playhouse," she answers, her head still snug against her pillow. "Are you going to make it all better?"
I watch as he slides a strand of hair from her face. "Yes. I'm going to put everything back together."
I can see the small smile across her face. "I knew you would."
"You did?"
Her head nods against the pillow. "Yep. You're the one who rescues people when the bad guys come."
My heart falls from my chest. It's broken in half, lying in front of me. Everything I've tried so hard to protect her from, everything I just wanted to be a shield to has already seeped into her life. She's seen more than I ever wanted her to. I take a step forward, prying my feet from the ground, ready to give away my cover and run to her side when Tommy's voice cuts in again.
"Mia," he says, his voice sounding a little more solemn. "Sometimes people don't always make the best choices. Sometimes they do things that hurt other people."
Her head tilts and her tiny eyebrows knit together. "But sometimes good people do bad stuff, right?"
There's another pause, a difficult silence filling the room. I know finding the right words for a five year old is difficult. I've struggled with them far more times than I'd like to admit.
"Yes," Tommy answers softly. "But remember what else I told you?"
Mia nods eagerly. "That it's never okay for someone to do something bad," she states confidently. "Even if they're good."
"Yeah," he breathes out. "Exactly. You remember that, okay?"
"I will." The confidence still racing through her voice both warms my heart and breaks it. She's so young to be learning that already. And yet, at the same time, is it ever too soon? I hope she never forgets that.
"Hey!" she says brightly, her eyes wide with a spark of joyful realization. "I never gave you my Christmas present!"
In one swift movement, Mia flings herself to the side, reaching beneath her bed before pulling out a small box that her and Lacy wrapped together.
I really should leave now, I just can't seem to tear myself away. I'm in too deep.
As Tommy pulls back the paper and lifts the lid to the small box, he pulls out something small. I can't quite see it from my current position.
"I made it," Mia beams as Tommy examines whatever it is.
"You made this?" he asks quietly.
"Well, Lacy helped me," she says with a nod. "But I did a lot. I thought that maybe it would protect you when you're out fighting the bad guys."
A heartbeat passes as Tommy sighs, looking down at the gift in his hands. "Mia this is..."
Mia's eyes are eager. "Do you like it?"
"I love it." He looks up at her, giving her a warm smile before attaching something around his wrist and holding it up. "How does it look?"
"So good!" Mia shouts, nearly bouncing on the bed.
Their joint laughter causes one to overtake me as well.
Tommy sighs. "Thank you, Mia. This is the best gift I've ever gotten."
"You're welcome."
"Goodnight, kiddo," he says quietly, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.
"Goodnight, Tommy," she says on a tired exhale. I smile at the small moment, fighting a pool of tears building at the bottom of my eye. I'm about to take a step from the door when her tiny voice says one last thing. "I love you."
My breathing stops, my heart frozen in place. That warm flutter in my chest just got kicked into overdrive and I'm trying to stay as still as possible. Wondering if this is that moment when it all becomes too much, too real.
"I love you too," he whispers back. And just like that, I'm left with only the warm glow emanating from my chest.
He slowly steps out into the hall, and my eyes catch the black and blue corded bracelet clinging to his wrist, my heart still doing a little dance within my chest. When he sees me standing across the hall, he pauses, catching where my eyes have fallen. In one smooth step forward, his hands slide around my waist as he pulls me against him.
"I wasn't expecting that," I say quietly, looking up at him, searching his eyes for any hesitation or fear.
There isn't any. Instead, there's a smile on his face now. One that dances all the way to his eyes. "I wasn't either."
Even though he appears to be happy, I can't seem to stop what comes out next. "You still okay with this? It's not too fast?"
His hands slide up to my face, holding it gently. Those lips of his I'm constantly craving press gently against mine, helping to calm the small spurts of panic that keep trying to surface.
"Did you miss the part where I fell in love with you?" he whispers against me.
That smile falls on me now as I lift my eyes to meet his. "I didn't miss that."
"Well, maybe you missed the part where I fell in love with her too?"
There it is again. The glimmer of light and warmth of the sun that he likes to caress my body with.
The fact that this is my world, that he's mine is still something I'm trying to get used to. It shouldn't be this easy to love someone. It shouldn't be possible to be this happy. And yet, here I am. I can't seem to stop falling, and with his firm arms wrapped around me, I don't think he ever intends to let me stop.
The thing is, I told him that he saved me. But I think we're both saving each other. Helping to heal the wounds that never fully closed. The pain of our pasts that left us broken, hesitant and leery of different aspects of our lives. Because what I know now is that I've learned to trust again. I've learned that it can be safe to fall as long as there's someone there to catch you. I've learned that it's okay to be vulnerable with the people who hold your heart.
And Tommy? Listening in on him reading to Mia about the Grinch just now tugged at my heart, knowing how far he's come in his own journey of making peace with his past over this holiday season. He's allowed the healing to begin and I think it started with letting Christmas become a little bit more. Just like the story goes.
I'd like to think Mia and I helped him get there, even if it was just a little bit of hot chocolate, marshmallows, and encouragement that did the job. And through it all, I think we just became a little bit more ourselves.
My hand slowly slides into his as I pull away. Taking two steps to the right and dragging him behind me.
"Where are we going?" he asks quietly, following my movements.
"To my room. I'm about to show you just how much I've fallen in love with you."