“Hello? Mum? Dad?” I call out.
The pitter patter of Mum scurrying from the direction of the kitchen gets louder coming over to us.
“Hello! I’m so glad you both came early!” Mum throws her arms around me and then Mabel.
“Thank you so much for inviting me,” Mabel says, balancing Mum’s Christmas gift in one hand.
“Open invitation. Don’t even ask, just come.” Mum steps back and puts her hand on Mabel’s cheek.
“We got you this!” Mabel announces. “But you have to open it now.”
“Now?! But it’s not Christmas Day?!”
“Trust us, Mum.” I wink at the both of them.
Mum takes the offered gift from Mabel and tears into the paper. “Oh, stop it! That’s fantastic!” And laughs. “Oliver! Get in here! The kids are here.”
Dad comes around the corner and gives us both a hug, and then gets Mum’s gift shoved in his face. “Oh, goodness. That might be the best one yet.”
Dad takes it from Mum to inspect. Mabel found someone online to make a Riley gnome in my leathers, along with a little helmet and my name and number on the back. It’s pretty fucking cute.
“Okay, now you have to open one of yours,” she announces and runs away.
“It’s okay! I can wait until…hang on,oneof mine?” Mabel asks, looking between Dad and me.
“Cami just got a few things,” Dad explains.
I look back at Mabel, and she has tears threatening to spill.
“Hey, what’s up?” I hug her.
“Your mum didn’t have to get me anything, let alone more than one.”
“That’s Mum, though. She loves spoiling those she loves.” I kiss her temple.
“She’s just made me feel so welcomed in the first five minutes of being here than five weeks with my parents,” Mabel breathes out. Mum arrives back triumphantly, offering up the gift to Mabel. “I hope you like it!”
Unwinding my arms from around her, Mabel unwraps the gift and smiles widely. “Oh, my goodness. That’s so freaking cute.”
Raising up a gnome with a coffee mug in its hand, she says, “The start of my own collection!”
“Oh no. Now there’s two of them,” I remark and laugh with Dad.
We take our bags up to my room, and Mabel looks around.
“So, how many girls did you have in this room?” she teases as she inspects the books on the shelves. Not finding anything incriminating.
“Not sure.” I shrug, sitting on the bed, watching her.
“Not sure because the number is low and you don’t want to say, or high and you can’t keep a tally?”
She walks close enough to me that I can grab her arm and cast her onto the bed, hovering over her.
“The former in that statement.” And I lower my lips to hers. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
“I’m glad I’m here too.” She smiles at me.
“Riley! Can you come help me with something?” Mum calls out from the bottom of the stairs.
