You know that glorious scene in While You Were Sleeping, when the family gathers around the table, eating dinner, and there’s so much really great dialogue and banter? Nothing makes sense, and yet, everything is also absolutely perfect. That feels like this moment for me. But instead of Sandra Bullock being the wonderful outsider, the role has been recast to Jace. He’s wide-eyed, with a bit of a grin etched continuously in the contours of his face, packing the biggest bite of mashed potatoes I’ve ever seen onto his fork. Just as he’s about to bring the polished silver utensil to his mouth, my grandmother strikes.
“So, Arms McGee . . .” she trails, the heat from my face offset by the chuckles that resonate throughout the dining room.
“Arms McGee,” Jace mumbles to me, the mashed potatoes falling onto the plate after the instinctive jerk of his hand at his new title.
“You know, because he’s ripped,” my grandmother adds helpfully, looking around the room.
“We get it, Gram,” I mutter while my brother chokes on his water, which serves him right. I’ve been trying to avoid Freddie for the last day or so. Though, we did have a deep chat overcoffee this morning. There were tears on my part and an apology from my brother, but here we are. I made him go personally to the boxing gym to ask Jace to join us for dinner this evening. I’m not sure exactly what was said between them, but Jace is now here and surrounded by my family. And it feels like we’re on the right track. We’re at my parents’ inn, nestled together in the dining room. Their amazing chef cooked dinner for us, and we’re in the middle of our family tradition of dinner at the inn followed by caroling in the snow.
“And how do you feel about our girl?” Gram launches into her interrogation, interrupting my thoughts. She’s clearly not intending to let him eat in peace.
Jace shifts in his chair, the resulting creak the reminder we all need that this giant of a man is sitting on what’s practically an antique. It’s a sort of Christmas magic that he isn’t sitting on a pile of splinters right now. He just took a bite and tries to chew it quickly in preparation to answer.
After Emmy went to bed last night, we held each other, sitting on the couch and drinking candy cane tea. His need for permission every time he wants to touch me is . . . unusual but endearing. We still haven’t kissed. After eight years, if he doesn’t kiss me soon, I fear I may internally combust from the tension. Regardless of the forces keeping us from showing our affection, I told him he’s worth more to me than my brother’s opinion. Considering how much Freddie’s opinion has meant to my life, the admission says a lot about what I’m hoping for in our future.
“And where’s Emmy?” Gram presses, a lifted roll in her hand poised as a potential weapon.
Jace is still swallowing his last bite, so I put my hand on his arm and step in before things get even more unraveled. “Emmy is with Angie and Edgar. They’re picking out a Christmas gift for Jace.”
“Mom, let him be,” my dad says with a smile to Gram and a spark in his eye that tells me he is enjoying another man being in the house. It’s probably a shock to everyone that this time . . . gasp! He’s here for me.
“I’d let him be, but he seems like the type of guy who enjoys a little banter. A little back and forth? Maybe even some choreography for two?” Gram smiles as my brother chokes on his bite of pot roast.
“Good thing he’s with Ivy, then,” Freddie banters with a laugh, and my face has already turned pure crimson. I don’t need a mirror to know it. “She’s an expert at complicated choreography.” He winks at me, and I feel the kind of love-filled fury that only siblings can experience.
Jace laughs, his shoulders relaxing. I imagined he’s just realized that he’s entered a room full of the unhinged types who mean well but also like to disguise themselves as my family. Just when I think he’ll try to avoid the question, he lifts his chin, meeting the eyes of every member of my family around the table in turn. The mixture of shock and amusement across their faces is notable. He may be a loyalist, but a part of his charm is being trustworthy. So far, I’ve noticed that Jace doesn’t back down from the things and people he needs to confront. It’s one of the things I’m realizing I like most about him.
“Well, everyone,” he says with a hint of a grin, “while I do like banter, the truth is that Ivy is unlike any other woman I’ve ever met in my life.” The scent of his pine-infused cologne seems to hover around me, spreading to my shoulders as his arm drapes over the back of my chair.
“And what makes her different?” my brother challenges, an eyebrow raised.
Jace nods as if he were expecting the follow-up question. There’s less tension than I expected between him and mybrother, but I also sense definite proving-themselves-to-each-other vibes.
“See, I could start with how she treats all her students like they deserve the world, but that’s the obvious one,” Jace replies to a collective of nods. “If I were only a casual observer, then I’d say her beauty, her kindness, her elegance, or her generosity are her most noticeable qualities.”
More nods. Gram may even whisper, “Amen.”
Jace speaks more methodically now, his eyes lingering on each of my family members. They’re riveted on his speech, as am I. Santa Claus himself could come walking into the room, and I wouldn’t be able to tear my eyes from the gorgeous man next to me. And it’s not because of his looks. He is beyond handsome; I won’t deny that. But it’s his spirit that draws me in, the one that focuses intensely on everything he does but is also gentle enough to prompt you to give him your heart and hold his in return. I’ll admit, when he first returned to Birch Borough, those qualities were hidden beneath a vibe that was nothing less than crotchety. But after we’ve been through so much pain and grief, sometimes it’s hard to remember who we really are.
Jace continues, “But I’m not casual in how I view Ivy.” His confession causes me to shiver, and I straighten my back, attempting to get more circulation moving through my limbs. His jaw lifts slightly, a twitch on the side of his mouth giving away his nerves. “No, I’m the kind who only had to meet Ivy once before I gave her a nickname that will stick with me—and her—for the rest of my life. I’m the kind who notices the way she relaxes into ballet positions because it’s so ingrained in her being that she can’t help it. And she hums when she’s happy, and she’d rather have the record player she grew up dancing to at her studio, not because she can’t afford a new one, but because she’d rather have the memories. I’m the person to whom she gifted her lucky charm because she knew I wouldn’t take it for granted.”
At this, I inhale sharply. My mother sniffs. Freddie’s mouth hangs open.
“I’m the kind of man who, even though I lost myself in grief for a while, I never stopped believing that, besides God and Emmy, Ivy was my reminder there is goodness in this world,” Jace concludes, his voice deep and somber.
The only sounds in the room are Resin’s breathing underneath the table and the melody of carolers who got a head start outside the windows of the inn. My heart is racing in time to the tune of “Jingle Bells.” It’s an unhinged thought, but the air is thick with emotion. And I think of how much this moment feels like the Christmas magic I’ve been hoping for my whole life.
“You’d better hold on to Arms McGee like your life depends on it, Ivy girl,” Gram says, staring at me.
I laugh and wipe the side of my face with the edge of my hand while reaching for my water with the other. The warmth of Jace’s hand covers my knee through my tights, and I’m electrified. I hope he never stops reaching for me.
“And you, ma’am?” Gram asks then, her eyes directed to me pointedly. I take another drink of water and shift closer to Jace. I need his strength.
“What about me?”
“Don’t play coy. How does Arms McGee make you feel?”
I swallow, looking at my parents, who have loved each other since their school days. I glance at my brother, who’s a hero in his own right and whose affection for me has never wavered, even if his protection sometimes causes more harm than intended. Finally, I look back at Gram, who meddles because she cares so fiercely.
