The days leading up to Christmas could be played out in a montage set to happy holiday Bing Crosby tunes. Afternoons of sledding and hot chocolate, gift wrapping and caroling, baking and playing made the few days fly by. Before anyone even realized it they were waking up on the eve of Christmas.
"Do you know what today is, Pine Tut? Do you know? Do you know?" Luke asked, jumping up and down on the couch. Chris sat calmly, reading the newspaper.
"Tuesday."
"No!" Luke moaned, flopping bonelessly on to the cushions.
"Yes, actually it is," Chris fluffed the newspaper, folded it to the front page and pointed out the date. "See, Tuesday." He ran his finger under the letters, unsure of the little boy's reading abilities.
"Argh, you're in-cour-edible."
Chris laughed. Throughout the family adventures Chris had played with the kids, inticing their laughter and more than once getting them into trouble. Chelsea repeatedly said, "You're incorrigible," as the kids would laugh. Luke was attempting to steal her word.
"It's incorrigible and it doesn't really apply here, kid," he put the paper down, stood up and grabbed Luke tossing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "I need more coffee," he mumbled, swinging Luke back and forth much to his delight.
"Oh goodness, don't hit is head on anything," Susie said, reaching out a bit.
"I'm fine, Aunt Susie," Luke managed to say through giggles. Chris continued to the coffee pot and poured another cup. He threw a glance over his shoulder to Chelsea. She was wearing a flowered apron, hair was tossed up haphazardly, and she was kneading dough. Their eyes met and she shook her head.
"What?" Chris asked with a smirk.
Chelsea opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a doorbell. She leaned to look out the large picture window. "UPS works on Christmas Eve? Poor guys," she dusted the flour on the flowers of her apron. Her mother had already greeted the man in brown at the door.
"Chris?" Susie called from the porch.
He was flipping Luke onto his shoulder, "Yes ma'am?"
"This gentleman has a couple packages for you."
Chris lit up and jogged to the door. Two very large boxes were standing next to the door and the man held out the electronic receipt. "Sign here, Mr. Pine." Chris adjusted the small child in his arms, moving Luke from his right shoulder to his left, and scribbled his signature on the pad. "Thank you," the man turned and jogged down the driveway.
"Those are really big boxes," Luke said.
"Yep," Chris walked back inside, leaving the packages on the porch. He tossed the child on to the couch and went back to retrieve his delivery.
"What's in them?" Luke asked peering over the back of the couch. He was voicing what everyone else was thinking. Jules had stopped playing Wii with Lauren, Mr. Carter's eyes raised above the newspaper, Susie stood next to the door and Chelsea watched from the kitchen.
Chris smiled proudly, "I think they're from Santa."
"What? No way!" Lauren darted to Chris. One box was nearly as tall as she was. She gripped the edges and investigated the box. "Does it say North Pole on it? You must have been really good this year. They're big presents."
Chelsea scoffed.
"I heard that," Chris said.
"They're probably full of coal," she shouted as she headed back into the kitchen to her cookie dough. She was almost finished, then it would chill for a few hours before being rolled out, cut into the shapes of Christmas, baked and iced. Chris let the kids push and pull at the box as he watched her. The frilly apron was too big, she'd wrapped the apron strings around her waist and tied them in a neat bow roughly level with her belly button. Flour was smudged on the apron and on her left cheek. "Find the North Pole sticker," he instructed the kids, to keep the busy, and snuck into the kitchen. Chris didn't notice Jules watch him with a smile as he snuck up behind Chelsea. The sleeves of her chambray button down were rolled and pushed up past her elbows. Her palms were pressing heavily into the dough as she got back into the rhythm of kneading. "What are you doing?" she asked, not even looking back at him. Chris kissed the back of her head and slid his arms around her waist. Chelsea sighed contentedly. "This is not going to speed up the sugar cookie process."
"There's just something about you in an apron," Chris leaned down. Chelsea was barefoot, making her a good six inches shorter than him. He liked how small she felt. "I remember the first time I saw you in an apron."
Chelsea felt her fingers tingle and her skin breakout into goosebumps. She smiled into the lump of cookies-to-be as she fondly remembered making a slightly hungover Chris breakfast. "I remember you trying to take my bacon."
Chris kissed her cheek. "It seems like forever ago."
"It was just a few months ago," she whispered, everything had gone so fast. She had to agree with Chris, that first kiss felt like it had happened ages ago.
Chris paused, "Do things feel like they're moving too fast for you?"
Chelsea pushed the butt of her hand deep into the dough a few times before replying, "Sometimes."
"Sometimes?"
"It's just crazy. But everything about you, Chris, is crazy," Chelsea leaned back and touched his cheek with her flour covered hand. He playfully winced. "It's a good," she kissed him quickly, "now go away so I can finish this."
Chris grinned and jogged back to the kids. They had knocked over one of the boxes. "I certainly hope nothing in there is breakable," Susie said, almost curtly. A basket of laundry sat at her feet as she actively monitored the kids.
"It's not," Chris replied calmly. "Do you have wrapping paper or bows?"
"I'll get you some once I toss this in the washer," she turned and walked to the utility room.
"Presents!" the two kids said excitedly. Chris glanced around for something to open the boxes with, noticing George stood and handed Chris his pocket knife. Expertly, Chris cut the packing tape and opened the lid of the box. Several white boxes were inside the box. "More boxes?" Lauren asked.
"Which we need to wrap," Chris said. The kids cheered and ran off to gather supplies. Chris moved the boxes into the living room for more space. As he listened to the kids gleefully dart about the house searching for tape and scissors he looked at the contents. Two boxes were white with the word Celine on them in black. There were five small black boxes with the inverse color scheme and the very famous Chanel logo imprinted. He cut open the other box and found bags very clearly labeled Toys R Us, he reached and felt around until he found four small silver boxes, these also famously labeled Armani. As the kids bounded around the corner he tossed the two boxes into the other and hid the toys.
"Ready to wrap!" Lauren announced. She held two tubes of wrapping paper. Chris smiled and the three began to messily wrap each gift. Once they had finished the largest Celine box, Chelsea made her way into the living room and sat on the couch. She affectionately watched as Chris tried to guide the kids as they taped and cut the paper covered in snowmen and Santa hats.
"It's not going to be pretty," Chris whispered, locking eyes with Chelsea.
"That's fine, the paper just gets ripped off anyway," her eyes went from box to box, taking in the designer names, "Chris you didn't need to do this."
He popped the lid off a Sharpie and wrote Chelsea's name on the paper. "Sure I did."
"No, you didn't," she paused, "It''s too much, Chris."
"I promise you, it's not," he placed her gift under the tree and helped the kids wrap the next, smaller Celine box. Chelsea made a note to google Celine later. "Careful, don't put too much tape," he told Luke. He took the box and wrote Julia's name on it.
"Chris, you didn't have to get everyone a gift. I hope you're not expecting," he interrupted her by reaching under the tree and handing her a box. It was shaped like a shirt box. Chelsea's eyebrows furrowed. "What's this?" she turned it around in her hands and found the tag.
"Maybe I did feel slightly obligated when I saw that one," he pulled two more packages out, both had his name on them, "and these. None of which are from you, I'd like to point out." Chelsea knew this, her gift for Chris was still in California. Her mind raced as she wondered when her family members snuck away to buy Chris presents. "Your family is incredible, Chels. These last few days. Less tape! Easy kid! These days," he reached over and took a hold of her hand, "I have fallen in love with your family almost as much as I have fallen in love with you. Giving them a few little things to open Christmas morning is the least I can do."
The thought was exhilarating and terrifying. Chelsea already knew her family had fallen for Chris. They hung on his every word and openly stared. She'd been nudged and elbowed at least a thousand times by her sister. Her mother winked at her when Chris said something adorable, which was frequently. Her cousin literally gave her a thumbs up when Chris beat him in Scrabble. She sighed, "I still think it's too much."
"It's not, I promise," Chris returned this attention to wrapping. In no time the presents were colorful and tucked under the tree. Luke and Lauren requested a movie and soon the whole family was sitting in the living room watching Will Ferrell in his elf costume. Luke and Lauren lay on the floor, dangerously close to the television. George had fallen asleep in his recliner. Jake sat in another recliner with Jennifer leaning against his legs on the floor. Uncle Chris and his wife had gone to take a nap. Chelsea leaned comfortably against Chris, her legs stretched out on the couch. Chris was lazily running his fingers through her hair. "This is almost as ideal as doing nothing in a hotel in Amsterdam," he whispered.
"Mmmm hmmmm," Chelsea agreed as a buzzer on the dryer yelled. Chelsea glanced at her mother. "Do you need help?"
"No, watch your movie," Susie made her way to the laundry room, then passed by multiple times with arms full of freshly folded clothing.
When the movie ended more games were brought out, sandwiches were eaten and laughter filled the house. As the sun set Chelsea pulled out the cookie dough, sufficiently chilled, and began to roll it out. The kids joyfully made their way to the kitchen. Chris leaned against the wall and watched. A strong, but very foreign desire overcame him. In that moment Chris could vividly see Chelsea in his kitchen, baking cookies, with his niece. He wished he had his camera, he wanted to freeze this moment in time forever. The tiny hands and expectant eyes reaching to Chelsea, longing for her approval of cookie cutter choice. Her big smile and floured hands. She met his gaze. "I love this," he mouthed. She smiled and returned her focus to the kids. Chris looked at the dough, there was a lot of it. He had time to get his camera, so he jogged down the hallway to his room.
As soon as he entered he noticed something was different. The bed was made and the pile of laundry he'd left, albeit neatly, on the floor was gone. Susie had done his laundry. On cue with his thoughts she walked in with an armful of folded clothes.
"You didn't have to do that," Chris said, taking the sweaters, pants and shirts from her arms and placing them on the dresser. Then he froze. On the dresser, all alone, was the small blue box with it's perfect white ribbon. He turned and looked at Susie.
"Look, I like you. I do," she said as she stepped toward the door. "But I love my daughter. I am her mother. I know what she needs."
Chris was speechless, he looked back at the small box. The color gave it away, it wasn't any shade of blue. Tiffany's blue.
"She does not need whatever is in that box," Mrs. Carter pointed at the box. "You have only known her a few months. I know everything is rosy and romantic right now, but you have to be smarter than than. She's smarter than that."
"Mrs. Carter, with all due respect," he started.
"No," she wagged her finger, "I don't want to have a conversation about it. I know you love my daughter. Or you think you do. Your lifestyle and hers are very different, you have to take that into account." Chris wanted to speak, he wanted to explain. However, Chris knew better. He respected her mother and he let her continue. "And take your time, Chris. Be smart. That singer I like, Kenny Chesney, he married some movie star after dating for four months and it ended faster than it started. Remember that."
Chris sighed, fought the urge to explain himself, and simply stated, "Yes ma'am."
"Put that way," she said, pointing at the box as she walked out of the room. Chris slowly picked it up. Carefully he pulled at the white ribbon and it fell. Lifting the lid he pulled the velvety box out and snapped it open. In the dim lamplight of the guest room it glimmered and shimmered beautifully.
"Whatcha doing?" Chelsea's voice rang out. She was holding the door frame and leaning into the room.
Quickly he snapped the box shut, shoved the famous box under the clothes and said, "Nothing."
"Good. Cookies are in the oven and we're all opening our one Christmas Eve gift." Chris grinned. "You should know," Chelsea said, as she walked in and put her arms around his waist, "My gift for you isn't fancy, it's not expensive and it's not big."
"That's fine," he whispered, pushing her hair out of her face and admiring her. She looked fresh and happy. "You didn't have to get me anything."
"Well, isn't that what people do around the holidays? They shower the people they love with gifts they don't need?" Chris softly smiled and kissed her forehead. "Bad news is I left your gift in LA, I didn't know you were going to be here."
"That's fine, really."
Chelsea grabbed his hand, "Let's go watch everyone else open a gift. It's my favorite part, better than receiving and cookies and surprises. I love watching someone's face light up when they open that perfect gift."
Chris looked over his shoulder to make sure the box was hidden. He knew what was inside was perfect, but it would just have to wait.