Scottie smiles and giggles and says, “Merry Christmas, assholes.”
The room erupts in laughter and cheers, and we all surge toward Scottie like it’s old-school Black Friday at the local Circuit City.
Finn reaches her first, arms wrapping around her like he’ll never let go again, and Julia and I pile on top of him.
My mom takes pictures rapid-fire, my dad is blubbering like an emotional fool, and everyone else spins in place, beside themselves with excitement.
Scottie can fucking walk.
“It’s a motherfluffing Christmas miracle!” my dad sobs. “And I am all up in my motherfluffing feels! Hold me, Cassie!”
The whole thing feels like fucking magic. A fairy-tale Christmas if we’ve ever had one.
The house is still.
Everyone’s asleep. After presents, Wendy insisted on more hot chocolate and sentimental Christmas movies, which means most of the group passed out halfway throughIt’s a Wonderful Life.
But I’m wide awake.
I sneak up the creaky stairs as I’ve done a thousand times before, only this time, I’m not a dumb eleven-year-old on a dare.
I’m a man who needs to see the woman he loves more than anything.
The bedroom door to the girls’ room is cracked, and I peek in to find Julia curled up on the bed on her side, and Yoko lifts his head from his spot curled up against Julia’s back.
Julia is scrolling her phone in the dark, her face lit faintly blue.
Everyone else appears to be asleep.
“You’re supposed to be asleep,” I whisper toward her.
She jumps, and Yoko scurries away to take refuge at the foot of the bed. “Ace! Goodness! You scared me!”
I grin and close the door behind me. “That’s no way to greet your future husband.”
She sets her phone aside as I crawl into her bed, lifting the blanket and sliding in behind her like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Probably because there is nothing more natural than Julia and me together.
“I missed you,” I murmur against her neck.
“You just saw me,” she whispers, smiling.
“I know. But that was like an hour ago. I missed you.”
She turns in my arms, our noses brushing. Her fingers find the hem of my T-shirt and curl there.
We lie in silence for a beat, just breathing, just being.
And then she says, “Do you remember the year Santa Dick knocked over the tree?”
I laugh into her collarbone. “Yeah. Because Santa Dick’s big sack was too big, and he kept swinging that fucker around. We’re lucky he didn’t take out a kid.”
“Goodness, my grandfather is nuts.”
“Let’s not forget when we found him and Mrs. Santa Dick making out like teenagers,” I say, and Julia snorts.
“Evie cried for like three hours straight over that,” she says and then adds, “But Gunnar thought it was so cool that Santa Dick was such a ladies’ man.”
I grin and press my forehead to hers. “God, I love you.”
