30
REBECCA
“That’s a great picture,” Steven comments as he looks over my shoulder.
I’m holding my cell phone, getting ready to upload the picture I took earlier on the web. It’s Steven holding Damian up as they put the golden star on top of the Christmas tree.
It’s a wonderful keepsake for our first Christmas Eve together. All in all, the day has been perfect. We decorated the tree together, and the presents have been wrapped and hidden in my closet for the morning.
Now, the house is filled with the smell of delicious food that’s been cooking for hours, and the fireplace crackles in the background, giving the perfect aesthetic.
There’s only one thing missing…my parents.
“Can I put the marshmallows on the sweet potatoes?” Damian asks, sitting on the counter next to Steven.
“Of course,” he replies and hands him the bag of mini marshmallows. Damian digs his hand in and starts sprinkling them on top of the dish.
I lean over and baste the ham that’s still cooking in the oven. Everything, even down to the meal, we’ve done together as a big family. It truly has been the perfect day, but I can’t help but wish that my family were here with us to enjoy it.
It doesn’t seem fair that Damian or I are shunned just because I fell in love with an amazing man.
Sighing, I close the oven, and once I’m standing at full height again, Steven wraps his strong arms around me. He must sense something is off with me. “They will come around eventually,” he whispers as if reading my thoughts.
Smiling, I close my eyes and rest my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It’s something I do when I’m feeling overwhelmed.
As the dinner nears completion, we venture into the living room to spend some time together, watching the Christmas parade on TV.
“I hope Santa gets me the exploring kit I wanted. Oh, and a magician’s cape.” Damian begins talking about everything that was on his Christmas list, and inside, I’m laughing.
Everything he’s listing has already been bought and is wrapped, hiding in the back of my closet for him to open in the morning.
He’s going to be one happy kid when he wakes up to see all the stuff Santa got for him this year. I didn’t have such luck buying a gift for Steven. With everything going on, along with only being with him for a few weeks, I only had one idea.
It’s a large canvas of the picture I snuck of Damian and Steven the first day they met. They were in his office, and I snapped a picture unbeknownst to them on my phone. It’s not much, but I thought it would look nice in our living room.
Something to look at and remind us all how far we’ve come since that first day.
“Well, I’m sure you will be very happy,” I call out to Damian as I walk back toward the kitchen to check on the food. Steven follows and leans down to check the ham.
“I think it’s done. It smells amazing,” he comments while pulling it out carefully. As I do the same to the sweet potatoes, there’s a light knocking at the front door. I turn to shoot a curious look at Steven, who just shrugs, setting the pan in the center of the table.
Who could be coming here this late on Christmas Eve? Everyone should be at their own homes with their families, doing the same thing we are doing. As I pull the door open, my breath hitches as my mouth hangs slightly open.
As I stand speechless, standing on the porch is my grandmother, my mother…and my dad. But why would they be here? The last time I saw my dad, he was punching my boyfriend. And my mom…Well, she was far too busy ignoring me to show any remorse.
However, I’m elated to see my grandmother. “Well, are you going to invite us in? It’s freezing out here,” she says with a bright smile on her face as her hands clutch her puffy winter coat.
Shaking the trance away, I say yes and step aside, holding the door as they all pile in. “Grandma!” Damian yells from the living room and jumps into Mom’s arms.
I want to be angry at my parents for how they acted toward me. I want to resent them for throwing us away like we meant nothing to them, but I can’t bring myself to hold onto that hatred.
Seeing how happy they are to see Damian and vice versa, it warms my heart. My grandma walks next to me and grabs my hand to give it a quick squeeze.
“I couldn’t bear to see the family separated for the holidays,” she whispers as my parents walk over to me. “Now, go on.” She looks at my father, and he sighs exhaustively.
It’s hard to keep eye contact with him after all the hurtful things he did and said to Steven and me the day he found out about us.
“I—uh,” he begins, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry.” Grandma steps next to him, nudging him as if he were still a child in her eyes. Dad rolls his eyes, and I swallow the chuckle that rises in my throat.
