“My mom would make us all put up lights,” Owen said in the dark. “She wanted the house to look perfect. She would stand out there with a level and make sure the lights were exact. It was miserable. She was like that with everything; you had to be perfect to be worthy of her love. She's still like that, I suppose.”
“I'm sorry,” I said, holding his hand.
He squeezed my hand. “But these lights are pretty, especially since I didn't have to put them up!”
While my grandmother’s lights had had wholesome charm, the lights in this neighborhood were otherworldly. Every house was framed in lights. Several even had whole Christmas scenes in their yards. The softly falling snow made it feel like I was in another world.
“That one's beautiful,” I said, pointing to a house that had all blue and white lights. The homeowner had carefully outlined the tree branches in lights. The roofs were trimmed in icicle lights, with the windows outlined as well. “This is unreal. They must have spent forever.”
“Yeah,” Owen said, “and speaking of petty competitions, they all try to one-up each other for the holidays.”
“Still,” I said, “it’s nice that people can enjoy it, you know. You just make something beautiful for everyone to enjoy.”
We drove around for several songs more. Every house in the neighborhood was decorated in lights.
“This was lovely. Thank you,” I said to Owen. “It's nice to be reminded of what Christmas is all about. That it's about reaching out to your family and your neighbors and doing something to make the world a more beautiful, happier place.”
“Yeah, I guess you're right,” Owen said quietly after a moment.
*
“I do have one,okay two more presents,” Owen admitted as we headed back to Manhattan.
“You don’t have to keep doing stuff for me,” I protested.
“Really, part of this present is for me.”
“Oh, it’s that kind of present!” I teased.
The fast car made the trip in no time. It was also a short trip, I realized, because we didn’t go all the way to Owen's tower.
“Why are we stopping here?” I asked as we pulled up in front of a fancy historic building.
“We're staying a night in a hotel. I need some time with you just to myself, No Rudolph, no bake-off.”
“You just left your puppy at home by himself!”
“Walker went to go stay with him. I'm sure they're passed out on the couch. Apparently there was a lot of wedding cake left. Walker's probably eaten a whole tier all by himself,” Owen said as he handed the keys to one of the valets. The valets seemed impressed with the car, and I heard them arguing over who was going to drive it.
“This is one of the Greyson Hotel Group boutique hotels,” Owen explained as we walked into the grand building. “It was built in the twenties, right before the real estate crash.”
The hotel manager greeted us and led us through the beautiful art deco building to the elevators. The Christmas decorations were, fittingly, in the opulent art deco style: swoopy lines of garland, dramatic lighting, and excessive amounts of glitter, gold, and feathers. The decor continued up the grand staircase and into the elevator, which had an actual elevator operator.
“I booked us the whole suite,” Owen said as the manager opened the door.
“Please let us know if there’s anything we can do for you, Mr. Frost, ma’am,” the hotel manager said.
“Am I that old?” I whispered to Owen after the hotel manager left.
He nuzzled my neck. “You're sexy as hell, and he was a little intimidated.”
I laughed, and Owen picked me up, swinging me around the room and kissing me.
“But what does the bedroom look like, I wonder,” I said, slowly undoing my dress.
Owen picked me back up and carried me to the bedroom. On the bed was a large box wrapped in gold paper and tied with a big red bow.
“Is that for me?” I clapped my hands.
