~Post TNS~
Heavy chunks of ice, which the weather lady on TV dared to call 'beautiful snowflakes', drizzled down over the street below. Its habitants had naturally chosen to stay inside in order to escape from the cold, but also because it was indeed Christmas Eve. The streets were clear from people - not snow - and the only life to be seen was the flickering street lights and occasional birds as they searched for a hiding place themselves.
Inside Richelle and Noah's Toronto apartment, two anxious individuals were running around the house in preparation for tomorrow's festivities. Actually, the truth of the matter was that Noah was hopelessly standing by the kitchen sink, feeling anxious for Richelle, as he watched her anxiously run around the house. Luckily, Richelle had the day off, since her entire family plus Noah's parents would be coming over for Christmas morning celebrations - and it was their first time hosting.
He hadn't been around for the entirety of the day, since he still had to go to work, but Richelle had been up and running around even before he had. In retrospective it was hardly surprising, but it had definitely caught him off guard at 5 AM, when her alarm had ripped them both out of a deep slumber. Within seconds the alarm was cut off, Richelle was out of bed and he was left with the remaining warmth that her body had left on the mattress beside him. For a second he thought he was dreaming, but upon noticing the bathroom light being turned on, he'd lazily boosted himself into a half-risen position, resting on his forearms. After quickly checking the clock on his bedside table, he'd redirected his exhausted and disoriented gaze towards the bathroom.
"Rich?" His voice was groggy, and he had to squint; even the slightest light coming from the bathroom was burning his eyes. "What are you doing?"
A couple of seconds went by in silence, before she rushed out of the neighbouring room in what would be her grey, 'down for business' set of sweats and a high ponytail. Even through the darkness, he could tell that her facial expression showed no mercy and she was determined as ever.
"Richie?" He tried to reach her again.
"Our families will be here in," she swiftly glanced at her Fitbit, "29 hours and this place is a mess!"
"Wha-" he frowned, even more profoundly than before, as she basically bolted around the room trying to get ready before the sun rose. A deep sigh escaped his exhausted body, internally debating whether or not he was going to be a good or bad husband today. Even though he was lowkey exhausted by just the thought of his wife's monstrous ambitions, he still still respected her enough to choose the latter and force himself out of bed.
Within the timeframe of five minutes, he managed to get up and pull a hoodie over his pyjamas (aka. his sweats and a random t-shirt), allowing him to leave the coziness of the dark bedroom behind for their living room and whatever 'mess' Richelle was talking about.
She was already running around the room and picking up clothes (mostly his - and yes, he did feel bad). With this tempo, she was going to exhaust herself in a matter of minutes and just the thought of it pained him. Richelle would have to slow down in order to survive today, and as her husband it was Noah's job to trick her into it since she'd never publicly admit defeat.
"Richelle, calm down." his voice was still tired, but he made sure it was still kind since the last thing she needed was to feel critiqued. "Let yourself sleep for once. It's your day off."
She froze on the spot, whipping her head in direction and letting him know that he'd stepped onto dangerous territory. "Its the first Christmas we're hosting at our place, Noah, and it needs to be perfect. Everything needs to be in order, and sleeping in isn't gonna help!"
"Okay..." It's not like he didn't know that telling her to calm down wouldn't make her calm down, but it seamed like an obvious first try. Instead of giving up, like he maybe should at this point, he took a deep breath and walked over to her list of jobs on the coffee table. "But at least let me help." His eyes quickly skimmed over the visible pages, taking in all the sections, sub-sections and even sub-sub-sections.
By then she no longer looked mad, but rather discouraged upon hearing him offer his help. "That's very sweet of you," she tugged the dirty laundry into the basket she'd brought along for the ride around the entire apartment. "But there's so much to do and it needs to be done to my standards. Just go back to sleep. I'll be okay."
"Richie..." he grabbed her wrist as she rushed past him, gently removing the laundry basket from her other hand and putting it down besides them. Before she could object to it, he was holding onto both of her hands in order to make sure she that he had her full attention. It was obvious, from the look in her dark eyes, that she was anxious, stressed and tired. Christmas was supposed to be the exact opposite. "There's no way you can do this all by yourself. Let's sit down for a minute, at least have a cup of coffee, and you can tell me what to do. Okay?" He looked straight into her eyes, sincerely hoping that she'd accept his offer and take some of the burden off her shoulders. To further persuade her, he soothingly drew circles on the inside of her palms with his thumbs, hopefully working away some nerves.
Oddly enough, hearing her sigh and seeing her shoulders drop in defeat was indeed more than a simple victory for Noah. It meant that he, to some extent, had fought off the stressed beast inside Richelle's gut. "I guess you're right... Sorry."
"Don't apologise," he sent her a tired smile, before pressing his lips to her forehead for a tender moment, before mumbling against it. "Sit down and I'll brew us some coffee. Then we can go through your plan together."
~~~
A lot had happened since T-minus 29 hours. Even though the entire apartment was now spotless, decorated to pure perfection (precisely like Richelle's plan had instructed: colour-coordinated, well-balanced and extremely festive) and most of the food was prepped for tomorrow morning, they'd hit the 13 hour-mark. Just when he thought he'd seen Richelle at her worst, she absolutely crumbled in front of him.
"No no no no!" She almost screamed at the oven, squatting in front of it and desperately pressing all of its buttons. "Why. Won't. You. Work!" With every word, the poor, defenceless oven received a punch from the agitated woman. That's when Noah decided that enough was enough. He wanted to be the last person to tell a woman what to do, but there had to be limits. Beating up an oven was now one.
"Woah woah woah!" He jogged over to gently pull her to her feet and back away to a point where the oven wouldn't suffer further abuse. "Alright, Rich... Time out." He grabbed her shoulders to spin her 180 degrees and restrain her from turning away.
"But the turkey needs to slow roast!" She whined and Noah could swear that he could spot tears forming in his eyes. "It needs 12 hours and 45 minutes in the oven like Lola showed me, and if everyone arrives at 10 AM tomorrow, then it needs to get in within the next 5 minutes!"
"Rich—" he tried to get through to her (again) slightly tightening his soft grip on her shoulder, just to get her attention as he had rarely seen her spiral like this.
"You don't get it! If it doesn't go in NOW, then it'll be way too pink for anyone to eat—"
"Richelle!" He snapped, not angrily bit firmly enough to get her attention for a second. "Breathe with me, okay?" He started taking deep breaths - inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth - never letting his eyes leave hers. Seconds later she was quietly breathing with him, and he allowed himself to gently rub her shoulders. The worst was over.
A calm smile spread across his face, hoping that she'd soon mirror it. "Richelle... Everything looks perfect and it'll still look that way tomorrow."
"But the turkey—" she whimpered quietly.
"The turkey will be fine as well. Yes, people will arrive at 10, but we're not gonna eat it until lunch, which means we have an extra couple of hours for it to cook. Everything is done and going according to your plans. There's nothing else you can do now. Please stop?" It was now his turn to look desperate, sincerely hoping that this would be enough to convince her. A silence washed over them, like the quiet after a massive storm, and it allowed Noah to hear his wife's finally even breaths. Thank God.
He felt her exhale deeply under his soft touch on her arms. "O-okay. You're right..." A tiny smile finally broke out on her face.
It was now Noah's turn to let out a heavy breath, an adoring smile following behind. "Good. Now I'll take care of the bird, while you go take a nice shower."
"You're the best," she gently placed her hand where his heart hid behind his firm chest, and quietly soaked in the soothing beat. "Meet me out here afterwards? I have... an early Christmas present for you."
This immediately caught Noah's attention, obviously showing as his brows rose in curiosity. "Ooooh, is it something sexy?" He teased, only earning a pair of rolling eyes and a soft punch to where her hand had previously rested.
"Noah... Turkey." and with that Richelle was back to normal and walking towards the bathroom.
~~~
Later that evening, after respectively showering and putting the huge bird in the oven (and also making sure that the timer was set correctly), the couple settled down on the couch together. In the background, soft Christmas music and dimmed fairy lights were finally allowed to give the room its destined cozy and relaxed atmosphere. To Noah's relief, Richelle looked much healthier and happier. And if that was all he'd get for Christmas that year, then he'd be more than okay with it. Yet the small package in her lap told him that it wasn't.
"I thought we were going to open presents tomorrow?"
A soft, yet somewhat nervous, smile was plastered to her glowing face as she nervously fidgeted with the green, flawlessly-curled ribbon. "I know," she allowed herself to glance up at him through her dark eyelashes. "But I waned to give you this without everyone else around. Merry Christmas, Noah." She carefully placed the red and green package in his hands, chewing on her bottom lip as he carefully unwrapped it.
To both her delight and fear, Noah was quick at opening gifts, pushing the paper aside to reveal a little white, knitted cloth. His eyes rose to meet hers. Confused but not disappointed; Questioning but pleasantly curious.
"I-I hope you like it." she stuttered nervously, still smiling, as he pulled the cloth completely out of the packaging.
"You know I love everything you make, but what—" his sentence was cut short when he held up the cloth and two additional, seemingly smaller pieces cloths emerged from either side of the bigger piece. For a second, he seemed even more confused before until a realisation hit him like lighting and caused the man to freeze.
"A cardigan?"
She nodded, telling him he was indeed headed in the right direction with this guessing game. Another realisation hit him.
"A tiny cardigan?"
She once more, just like before, nodded in approval. A few seconds of silence allowed the other shoe to drop and never before had Richelle seen Noah's eyes wider. Not even the first time she kissed him; not even the first time she said "I love you"; not even on their wedding day.
"A tiny cardigan." he repeated, this time a statement instead of a question. After taking a second to look at the fabric in his hands like he was in deep thought, he glanced back at Richelle with stars in his eyes. "A tiny cardigan. For a tiny human."
Her previously nervous smile was immediately replaced by a wide, toothy grin and crystal clear tears forming in her eyes. A final approving nod from her sent him over the edge. Completely forgetting about it in the moment, he dropped the fabric in his lap and immediately lurched forward to cup her rosy cheeks in his hands. Within seconds, before she had the time to blink or understand what was going on, his lips were on hers. The world around them disappeared as he carefully stroked her now damp cheeks, while he poured all of his love and joy into a soft yet passionate kiss.
"Is this real?" He pulled back a bit, just barely enough to speak; almost too excited and out of breath for it to be coherent. His forehead was still resting against hers. He kissed her again before she had the time to answer properly, limiting her to a nod and a smushed hum. After another few tender moments of just soaking in their mutual joy and love, he broke the kiss again, still leaving their foreheads touching.
"I'm going to be a dad." a single tear rolled down his cheek in overwhelming disbelief. This was definitely too much for his own good, but he didn't care.
"Yeah," she sniffled, definitely crying more than him, but also not really caring. This was their Christmas miracle. Not anyone else's. Just theirs for now. "You're going to be dad."
~~~
It's Christmas Eve 🎄