“As a matter of fact it is, Dove. You got me something too?” I ask her, surprised she somehow found the time and excited to see what she could have possibly gotten for me.
“Yeah, open it,” she urges, and watches as my eyes drift to the gift I gave her. “I’ll open my gift right after.” She giggles. “But I need to see your face.”
I relent and take the large box from her. It’s not heavy given its size, which makes me even more intrigued. Ripping off the wrapping paper like a big kid, I make quick work of pulling open the folded sides and pull free a framed map. When I look closely, its two golf course maps, one overlaid on the other, each in different colors. The green is of the Green Clove course in Ireland, the course that changed my life. The burgundy linework follows all eighteen holes of the Mossy Oaks course, the one that made me the golfer I am today. I can feel my eyes begin to tear up, and then I notice on the bottom right cornerOur Mulliganis written in calligraphy.
My glassy eyes lock with hers, and she’s teary-eyed as well. These two courses mean so much to me, and I don’t know how she came up with this concept, but the thought behind this gift makes me fall deeper in love with her.
“Do you like it?” she speaks gently, reaching over to hold my hand.
“It’s incredible, baby. I love it,” I reply, giving her fingers a squeeze. “Now open yours.”
She nods and releases my hand to open her gift. Paloma takes in a breath as she pulls out the deep red box of Tom Ford parfum. “I’ve wanted this for so long, but I refused to buy it.”
“Woman, you smell so damn good all the time.” I chuckle and continue, “I just wanted to add to your intoxicating scent.” She opens thebox of perfume and does a quick spray of the Lost Cherry fragrance on her wrists and neck. If I had less composure my eyes would roll back from how good she smells.
“Clint!” she squeals, noticing the gold luster engraving of her nickname on the front of the bottle. “Thank you, this is beautiful.” She gives me a quick peck, and we turn our attention to the rest of the family, all enjoying their gifts.
Selene wears her new bracelet as if it is, in fact, brand new. Every chance she gets she’s angling her wrist into the frame for each picture. My shoulders shake with my laugh. Nothing brings me more joy than seeing my family happy.
We spend the afternoon drinking chilled juices Mom made from the fruits and veggies in her greenhouse. She also sends a canister of it with us for Paloma’s mom.
Paloma walks right into her mom’s house, no knocking required, and pulls me in with her. I watch as she takes her shoes off at the door and removes her coat. Without asking, I follow behind her doing the same.
“Mija, is that you?” Her mom’s soft accent travels from wherever she is located in the house.
“Yes, Mami, it's both of us,” Paloma yells back. I hear water shut off and soft tapping on the floor the closer we get to the kitchen, and her mom meets us at the entry. She pulls me into a hug and kisses both of my cheeks. She does the same to her daughter, and they both smile and wish each other a Merry Christmas.
“It is so nice to officially meet you,” she says, as if she didn't try to marry Paloma off to me before she knew we already knew each other. I still remember thinking she was crazy for handing me her daughter's phone number. But it was fate, and I can't argue with it.
“It's nice to meet you too. Can I help you with anything in here?” I ask, wanting to make sure she was good. She shakes her head and pulls out a creamy drink from the fridge. It smells incredible in this kitchen, and I wonder what she has planned for dinner.
Paloma said she always goes all out for Nochebuena but never asks or wants any help. This together is her gift, her way of taking care of Paloma, and more than that, she loves to host and cook.
“Was this the house you were raised in?” I bump my shoulder into Paloma’s, wanting to know if her childhood room looks the same as it did when she was a teen.
“It is. Come on.” She reaches for my hand, and we walk up the stairs.
“You trying to ravage me in your old bedroom, Dove?” I tease her, and she turns to me with an equally naughty smile. I audibly gasp and clutch my chest in some form of mock surprise.
She rolls her eyes and laughs under her breath. “Come on, you crazy.”
When we walk through the next door, it's her bedroom, but it has since been redecorated. All has been modernized aside from her bed, which is covered with well-loved stuffed animals and a handmade quilt. It’s homey and stillher.
“I never brought any boys up here, and I kinda feel like I missed out on the whole teen experience considering you’re so old.” She snickers, teasingly.
“Hmm, you missed out, huh?” I growl, prowling to her. “Then let’s change that.”
I don't give her time to think about it before I am grabbing her by the waist and pulling her soft frame into mine and crashing my lips over hers. Devouring her sounds, her sweetness. I dig my fingers into her hips, anchoring her to me as I drink her in.
She gasps, and I give her only a moment before I’m capturing her lips with my own, stealing every breath from her, savoring the taste of her, and God, does she taste good. When I pull away, ending the kiss before I’m even ready to. I watch as she chases after me and smirk. “Still want more of your teenage dream, baby?”
“Fuck, Clint.” She’s breathing heavy, her chest rising and falling quickly, and my ego preens. Loving that I can do this to her, that I’m the only one she lets in, and damn, it does something to me.
“Come on before your mom kicks me out and grounds you.” Her head drops back in a laugh, but she follows me out regardless.
Her mom has taken all the food out and has placed it on the dining table.
“Oh my God, the pernil smells incredible, Mami.” And she’s right, it does. I have no idea what pernil is, but I plan to have two helpings if there is enough to go around.
