When I finally make my way downstairs after a long call with my family, I notice the kitchen is quiet. The record player is no longer playing, and the only trace of the loud, boisterous group causing a raucous earlier this evening is from muffled voices down the hall.
I follow them, stumbling upon the immediate family tucked into the large family room. Nana and Paps were on the couch with Anne and Robin sipping coffee. Nick was in the oversized chair next to them, Candy on the floor using his legs as pillows while he played with her copper hair -- the former chatting gleefully with his best friend who was situated on the love-seat to his right with his fiancé. Gemma and her husband were sitting on the floor near the tree, watching their little girl shake presents to hear the noise it made while the dogs were laid out haphazardly, tails swinging and snorting here and there as they watched the little girl cautiously.
"Bout time you got down here," Harry exclaims when he sees me.
I blush a little as I cross the room, finding a spot on the floor near Candy. I wasn't paying attention when one of the dogs sneaks up behind me, brushing his snout against my ear happily. I laugh, startled.
"We were waiting for you to open presents," he smiles, noticing how much his favorite dog loved me.
"See, Olivia...he's not that impatient at all..." his mother deadpans, eliciting a playful scowl from her son.
"You shouldn't have waited on me, it's not like I have any..." I trail off, not expecting to be receiving or giving gifts. My hand goes to rub Charlie's back since the mutt refused to leave my side.
"This one's for you..." Gemma interrupted, handing me a large, flat, square package.
I was bewildered at the tag that said "from the family," looking up at everyone cautiously. I suddenly feel guilty that I didn't think to get them anything.
"Go on," Harry chides, biting his bottom lip in anticipation when I go to open it. "You didn't really think you wouldn't have anything to open on Christmas Eve, did you?" He smirks as he starts on his own present, Eleanor following suit.
"You guys didn't have to do that..." I mutter as I shred the paper, trying to fight the tears at how warm the gesture made me feel. I'm shocked to see a shrink-wrapped vinyl record, a stoic man with dark tousled hair and circular glasses. "Imagine" by John Lennon is written at the top, and I gasp.
"That's a first edition LP press," Harry offers, watching me with amusement. He pulls a dark brown sweater from a box and smiles brightly. "Thanks, Mum!"
"Wow, this is..." I whisper, running my fingers over the cover slowly, too in shock to notice anything else around me. This was too much.
Harry knew that my parents listened to this record on repeat when I was young, putting it on while they went about their business. My mom had loved the Beatles more than anything, which I guess is where my penchant for good music came from. I remembered her telling me how the day that John Lennon died was one of the saddest of her life, how she felt so lost and despondent, as if she had known him personally. And in a way, it felt like she had.
"Harry said you like John Lennon," Anne mentions, peering over at her son. "'...because he's John Lennon,' he said." The room chuckles a little.
"Well, yes -- of course," I reply, still in awe. I tug the record up to my chest and hug it. "This is way too much. Thank you, truly."
Anne waves her hand dismissively, just like Harry always does. "Shush, we're just glad you could spend the holiday with us and fit in with our dysfunction." She manages to finish ripping the wrapping paper off of her own box, revealing a new mixer and she chuckles with an eye roll.
"The guy at William Sonoma said that one would be perfect," Harry mentions as Eleanor hands him a long rectangular box. "If not, I'll take it back and chuck it through the store window."
The room is met with strangled laughs.
"Well, if it doesn't work, I'll just use one of the many other mixers you've gotten me," she teases. He waves his hand dismissively.
"The one is too big and the other one flings batter."
"Oh, hush and open your present," Eleanor chimes, tiring already of mixed talk. She smiles up at him expectantly.
"Is this one from you?" He returns the smile smugly.
She nods, sitting back and watching him with a huge, knowing grin on her face, as if she knew how much he was going to love this.
"Should I open it in front of all of these people?" He teases, wiggling his eyebrows as he starts tearing at the paper. "There's children present, you know..."
He unearths a black and white box that I immediately recognize from a run I made to Saks two weeks ago, and I sigh as I realize how absolutely gutted he's about to be.
His brows crease as he opens the top, flicking the tissue paper open to reveal a creme set of silk pajamas.
"Wow!" He feigns enthusiasm, coughing to regain his composure. "Thanks, baby. These are great..."
"They match mine," she smiles, reaching over to run her finger over the embroidered breast pocket. "Except yours has an 'H'"
The room holds an awkward silence.
"Those are nice, man..." Nick snickers sarcastically as he pulls a gift bag into his lap. Candy immediately turns around, her hands landing on his thighs adoringly as she looks up at him expectantly. "Hey!" he giggles excitedly when he pulls out a flask with the Jack Daniels logo etched carefully in the steel. "Cool!"
"Keep going, baby..." she coos.
"Shot glasses," he exclaims as he shoves his hand deeper in the bag, watching her bounce on her knees seductively.
"A little more," she seduces with her eyes.
He finally finds a card, reading it out loud. "Good for one..." his face flushes deep read and he stops talking. "Mmm, thanks baby girl..." he smirks, putting everything back in the bag in a hurry before pulling her into his lap, making her squeal girlishly before kissing her lovingly all over her face.
I noticed Harry had to look away, leaving a look on his face I had never seen before. Longing? Jealousy? Was he upset that Nick and Candy were a bit more racy than Eleanor ever could be? I couldn't quite tell.
"Hey, you ready for yours?" Harry smirks at Eleanor, not letting the moment paralyze him. His finger jabs her side lightly as she whines in protest. "Come on," he takes her hand, pulling her up and walking her to the piano before taking a seat.
The room quiets slightly as he pulls her down to the empty seat beside him, his fingers making his way to the keys. She looks down at him perplexed, her arms crossing over her chest in expected disdain.
"I heard this on the radio the other day..." he starts as he begins playing a familiar melody. "Remember?" he asks, looking up at her happily as his arm presses against hers the way it did mine the last time I saw him at that piano.
She pulled her lips into a forced smile and nods. "That's nice, dear --" she utters, hoping to stop him before he was on another music rant that she despised.
"It always reminds me of you. When we fist started dating. Remember?" She was about to say something, but she was cut off by the swelling of music as he broke out into "She's Always a Woman" by Billy Joel.
She can kill with a smile.
She can wound with her eyes.
She can ruin your faith with her casual lies.
He sings to her, gazing at her fondly as she watched him, mildly amused. He grins at her amusement as he looks down at the keys. He knew she would like it.
She only reveals what she wants you to see.
She hides like a child,
but she's always a woman to me.
I can't help but watch in awe as the music moves through him, a tenderness in his voice I have never heard before. Seeing him perform never gets old.
His green eyes dance happily as he watches Eleanor's face -- the way her eyes flirt between his hands and his face gives away that she might even be enjoying this. In fact, I've never seen them like this -- so together. I've seen them fight, and I've seen him fight for her attention, and I've seen her fight his personality -- but no matter what it was, there was always a struggle between the two. Here, now -- there's no struggle as he sings and she simply listens. I can almost see how they were when they first got together years ago.
Almost.
She's frequently kind,
And suddenly cruel.
He smirks at her playfully as the words drip from his lips. She narrows her eyes playfully in return.
She can do as she pleases,
She's nobody's fool.
She can't be convicted,
She's earned her degree.
The most she will do is throw shadows at you,
But she's always a woman to me.
I relish in the shiver that slides through my body with every second of his singing as he coaxed the last of the chords out. He grins widely as their eyes connect, pleased with himself for not just getting her something, but for thinking about her. About them. After he's finished, he reaches onto the piano and pulls out a slim jewel case with a CD in it.
"I recorded it," he smiles, handing it to her. His scrawl had the song title, the date, and the occasion.
"Thank you," she says stiffly, her hand unhappily closing around the plastic, trying to figure out what to say. "Thank you, Harry. That's sweet."
He sighs, a flash of sadness crossing his features at her lackluster response. "Yeah, yeah..." He leaned back and reached under the tree for the brightly colored square box with her name on it.
Her face lights up as she tears into the paper, coming to life when she sees the gorgeously expensive diamond earrings. "Honey!! Thank you thank you thank you!" she squeals, immediately taking out her old earrings and putting in the new ones before finally hugging him, the jewel case falling to the floor instantly like a quickly forgotten memory.
"I know what my baby likes..." he trails dejectedly.
She got up to check them in the mirror, and he leaned down to pick up the discarded CD, putting it back on the piano. The look on his face almost made my heart break.
"Harry!" Gemma calls, causing the room to re-animate, even though the tension from the previous exchange was still thick. "Another! This one is from Olivia!"
"Awww, Livvy. You didn't have to get me a gift," he smiles, grabbing the package eagerly.
"Yeah, yeah," I mumble dryly, but it was replaced with a huge grin as he tore open the paper. His face was confused as he looks at the box. "It's a weather tracker..."
He looks up at me, our eyes lock, and we both bust out laughing hysterically. Anne and Nana share a look, which doesn't go unnoticed by Nick and Gemma who share their own.
He flips the box over to read the specs before chuckling. "I see how it is — trying to get out of your morning duty by giving me a tracker that will do it for you. Slacker."
"Well, I tried. There's no guarantee you'll actually figure out how to use it," I smirk.
Harry narrows his eyes at me from across the room. "You know, I forget how to put someone on hold ONE time and I'm branded as a technological dufus."
I laugh hysterically, the whole room going quiet to watch us. "It wouldn't be a big deal if there wasn't a huge ass 'hold' button in red," I muse playfully.
He shakes his head, contemplating for a second before grinning from ear to ear. "Thanks, Livvy."
I cough lightly, noticing Eleanor eyeing Harry's present suspiciously. "Umm...there should be something under the tree for Eleanor, too."
"Oh, yup. Right here!" Gemma says. I rub my hands nervously on my pants as Gemma hands the rectangular candy bar shape box to Eleanor.
I had been at a loss on what to get her, since she's so picky — but I couldn't just not get her something, especially since I found the perfect gift for Harry. In a moment of panic, I spent my entire Christmas bonus on a luxury spa package to a salon I knew she frequented. Thinking back, it was probably stupid to spend money on something she probably wouldn't even like, but I didn't have a choice.
Her face was completely blank as she undid the bow and opened the small box. My breathing hitches in my throat as she fully peers at it for what felt like an eternity, but she does something that completely shocks me. She smiles.
"Thanks, Olivia," she remarked, her voice genuine. Harry peers over her shoulder and reads he card.
"Oooh, good call," he smiles.
I finally could breath, chuckling as Charlie moves to rest his head on my lap.
Gemma smiles. "One more for Livvy!"
"That's from Harry and I," Eleanor smiles. Harry's eyes widen as he shakes his head no, pointing to himself as if to say 'not me!' while she wasn't looking.
I eye the gift in my hands cautiously before opening the paper, flipping open the lid to the box before coming across a familiar brown and gold bag with an LV design on the side. Charlie starts sniffing at the leather as I pull the designer bag out, shock written all over my face.
This is horrendous. I don't really have to wear this, do I?
Harry rubs at his ear amusedly.
"Wow," is all I can muster, holding it up and letting the soft leather pool in my hands. I really don't know what to say.
"It's absolutely fabulous, isn't it?" Eleanor gushes. Harry has to bite back a laugh. Only she could mistake my horror for elation.
"Is it real?" I ask, stupidly. Of course it's real. And costs more than my entire wardrobe.
Eleanor scoffs. "Honestly, Olivia." She sighs. "After I saw that hideous tote bag you had on the plane..."
"Eleanor..." Harry scolds, warning her.
I can't help but think about the bag my Mom had made me, feeling a flush of embarrassment sliding over my features.
"Olivia, every girl needs a nice bag," Eleanor nods confidently. "You especially do. This will jazz up your entire wardrobe...even those hideous shoes from Macy's."
"Eleanor," Harry interrupts again. Her words were rude, and I could tell he was trying to scold her as politely as possible.
"What? I'm not wrong. She has horrible taste in fashion. She might as well dress like a homeless person..." she scoffs quietly to him, but the whole room still heard. Me included.
I had to bite back the tears, biting my lip instead.
"Look inside!" she squeals happily, clapping her hands. She was completely oblivious to the pain in my chest and the awkward stares directed her way.
I oblige, hesitantly opening the bag to find an intricate Prada wallet clutch. "Oh."
"I know it doesn't match, but who cares. It's Christmas and everyone needs Prada on Christmas," Eleanor finishes, looking very pleased with herself.
"T-thank you," I nod. I really don't know what to say.
"That's it!" Gemma chimes loudly, again trying to clear the tension from the room and save me from the awkwardness I was stuck in. I'll have to thank her for that later.
"Well, would you look at this mess.." Anne starts, piggybacking off of Gemma's efforts to relieve the awkward fallout from Eleanor's rude behavior. She slowly stands up and reaches for the wrapping paper.
"Oh, let me help you..." Nana says, going to reach for the mugs.
Harry interrupts. "I got it, Nana. Let me." He quickly pools the mugs together and nods to me. "Livvy, a little help please?"
"Sure," I nod — ignoring the looks from Anne and Nana before grabbing a few of the extra mugs on the table before following Harry into the kitchen. Eleanor narrows her eyes and watches the two of us for a split second before chuckling to herself and pushing the thought away.
I was thankful for a few moments alone from the family after the whole bag debacle, but it didn't take long for Harry to interrupt my thoughts, gently taking the mugs from my hands before looking up at me tenderly. "I'm sorry for what Eleanor said back there..."
"It's fine," I sigh, finishing the walk to the sink and starting to rinse the mugs.
A long moment of silence passes between us, but I avoid his gaze because of the embarrassment I just endured.
"Hey, I got you something..."
I turn to find him pulling a small blue box out of his pocket. I look up at him curiously as I pull a strand of hair behind my ear. I was about to say something, but he interrupted me.
"I, uh...I know you loved the purse we got you," he chuckles playfully. "But umm..." he started, not sure what else to say, so he just shoves it in my hand. Upon closer inspection, I could see it was a box from Tiffany & Co.
I'm confused as I open the box curiously, dipping my hand into the blue pouch before pulling out a compass necklace, the metal cool against my fingers.
"It's a compass," he starts. "For when you get lost," he continues, biting his lip as he watches me curiously. He was trying to judge whether or not I remembered.
My breath catches in my throat as the memory hits me full force.
"Okay, Harry. Your emails have been sent, voicemails cleared. Everything is ready and set for when Hannah gets back on Monday," I chime as I enter into his office. "Come on, its Friday at 5 o'clock, let's get the hell outta..."
I look up, seeing his silhouette standing against the sunset of the gorgeous LA skyline. His arms are crossed over his chest, his shoulders taught against his white button down, his grey slacks snug against his legs. He looks contemplative as I move to stand next to him to take in the sight.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" he asks, his voice calm and thoughtful.
I looked out into the city and just took it in. So many people who came here absolutely loved the city, the opportunity and the glitz and glamour that accompanied it painting their dreams with hope. Some people could never imagine living anywhere else.
I, on the other hand, went through my day to day with ambivalence. Some days I hated the traffic and the people, and the annoyance of the simple inconveniences the city afforded. Until now, that is. Now, I was beginning to love it.
"I fucking hate this city sometimes," he chimes, taking a deep breath as he looks down at me. "And then I pause, and I look at this," he motions to the view.
"It's beautiful," I offer with a quiet nod.
I remember the first time I came to the city, how big and sprawling it was. It was so easy to get lost, to get stuck in the hustle and bustle and the traffic and the shady people just trying to use you to get ahead. Even after four years, I still felt that way sometimes.
"Doesn't it just make you feel..." he trails, about to finish. But not before I could interrupt him, my inner monologue continuing out loud unexpectedly.
"Lost," I offered.
My eyes widen at my accidental confession. I look up at him nervously before averting my eyes again. There goes my mouth again.
"Big city," Harry says with a nod, enjoying the pinkness of my cheeks. "Easy to feel lost."
I feel a heavy hand on my shoulder, looking up at him in shock. The feeling went away as quickly as it came, not even giving me a chance to cringe nervously.
I shift awkwardly.
"If only I had a compass," I deadpan, playful sarcasm dripping in my voice. He lets his head fall back in a laugh. "A little guidance, that's all I need."
He shook his head. "Don't we all..."
I blink back the memory as I look up at him, sucking my bottom lip between my teeth. He shifts nervously, wondering whether or not I even remember it. I smile brilliantly up at him, and his uneasiness instantly melts away.
"This is great, Harry..." I blush with a smile, fingers rolling over the pendant thoughtfully.
He runs his hand over the back of his neck. "I, uh...I was gonna have it transcribed, but you know...I thought that might be a little over the top."
I chuckle. "I wouldn't have minded," I whisper. I put the box down and started fumbling with the clasp to get it undone.
"I can drop it back off, if you want..." he trails off, reaching to take the necklace from me. I blush as I catch his green eyes.
"No!!" I challenge quickly. "I mean, it's fine the way that it is."
I shift as I finally get the clasp open, ducking my head as I try to pull it around my neck. Surprisingly, he takes it from my hand and spins me around.
I feel the shivers slide down my body as the tips of his calloused digits move delicately against the back of my neck, his pinky flicking my ponytail out of the way as he works to clasp it. I could feel his breath against my neck after it's clasped, forcing myself to turn around. The joy was radiating from my face as I try to look down to see what the special token looks like against my pale skin.
"It's perfect," I whisper.
When I look up, I notice his eyes are also staring at the deep V of my shirt that's accommodating the gorgeous necklace, unsure if he's taking in the necklace or my cleavage.
"Yes, you are."
It takes a few minutes before his jade green eyes connect with mine again, my breath hitching as that familiar pull slides its way through my body.
God, he is so fucking gorgeous.
"Thank you," I mutter, my arms reaching up and sneaking around his neck instantly without a second thought as I stand on my tip-toes. I revel in the feeling of his arms snaking around my waist, pulling me firmly against him.
I can't help but look up at his beautiful pink lips, watching him lick them lightly, his eyes scanning my face curiously. The pull is so strong that I can't even fight the logic, our lips mysteriously moving to connect.
The moment is filled with explosive magic, our lips barely touching longer than a few seconds before a set of footsteps knocked us out of our reverie, our faces pulling away confusingly just as we were about to take it deeper.
Was that a kiss? Did we just...?
A loud throat cleared, my hands moving from Harry's neck and sliding slowly down his chest. His arms never move from my waist, hands resting firmly on my hips instinctively. I'm shocked we didn't jump away like usual, both of us frozen there in awe.
Nick looks at Harry from the entrance, questions in his eyes as he takes in the sight of us. Questions Harry didn't exactly want to think about, so he shifts nervously.
"They need trash bags," Nick offers, still eyeing us.
"I'll get them," Harry nods, pulling away from me quickly and moving to grab them from under the counter. I secretly mourn the loss of his body heat and his touch as he disappears into the hallway to deliver the requested goods.
I swallow nervously as I move back to the sink, returning to my rinsing and dishwasher duty while avoiding Nick's gaze. Unfortunately for me, his gaze wasn't going away no matter how long I tried to avoid it.
By the time I finally looked up, Nick was leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest.
"You fucking my best friend?" He asks bluntly.
My eyes go so wide that they might pop out of my skull. I nervously stutter in response. "What? N-no."
"You guys together in any way at all?" He asks.
I shake my head violently. "No, of course not. We're just friends. We were just...hugging. He gave me a gift. Why do people keep asking me that?" I blush.
"Because he's himself with you," he offers, a bit of sadness in his eyes at my confession. "Well, the old him, anyway. You make him happy," his eyes soften.
I slam the dishwasher shut, suddenly flustered. I try to forget that our lips haphazardly gazed. But it must have been a mistake — even though I felt fireworks, it wasn't like we were making out or that our tongues were battling each other. He was just comforting me, and I was saying thank you for the sweet gift. That's it.
"There's nothing going on."
He smiles at my frustration, but sighs. "That's too bad."
My jaw drops, and my brow creases at his words. "You want him to cheat on his fiancé?"
He shook his head, taking a moment to correct me. "I want him to be in love with his fiancé."
I was shocked. He thinks that? "You really think he doesn't love her? He has to — otherwise, why would he put up with all of this shit?"
He groans, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I've been asking myself the same question for years now."
We both just stand there, looking at each other awkwardly.
"He loves her, Nick." I'm saying this more for myself than him at this point.
"Maybe," he shrugs. "But my bet's on you."
"Me!" I squeal. "I'm not involved in this at all!"
He smirked. "Not yet..." he trailed off and pushed his body off the counter.
And just like that, he left. I couldn't help but finger the pendant around my neck, wondering if the exchange we had was real and if there was any truth to what Nick had to say.
So much for that mantra.