“Let’s go,” he said, pulling a long-sleeved T-shirt over his head. “I need coffee.”
As soon as we hit the stairs, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and something made of cinnamon wafted through the air.
“God, she’s trying to kill me,” I said to Carson. “I’m going to need to run home if I keep eating like this.”
He tossed his arm over my shoulder and leaned in to whisper in my ear. “I warned you, and it only gets worse today.”
“What gets worse?” my mother asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I laughed, taking in the floor space under the tree that was now covered with more wrapped packages than I’d ever seen in my life. I pulled out my phone and snapped photos of everything. “Everything is perfect.”
“Are you hungry? I made a little spread for breakfast.”
“You call that a little?” I motioned toward the spread of cinnamon rolls, French toast sticks, biscuits with ham, and coffee on the table. Then something caught my eye.
Moving over for a closer look, my mouth fell open as I turned to Elizabeth. “Is that hundreds and thousands?”
“Yes,” she said happily. “The website called it Fairy Bread. I looked it up online. White bread with butter, then covered in sprinkles. I used red and green. I know it’s simple, but I thought you might enjoy it. Is it supposed to have that many sprinkles?”
My grin was almost painful. I hadn’t had it since I was a kid. “It’s perfect,” I said, kissing her cheek. “You’re too kind to me. You know that? Carson is going to get jealous.”
“He’ll be okay. Have some.”
She pulled out of my hug, then held out the plate to me. It was impossible to muck up, and somehow this lovely human thought she could.
Taking the plate from her, I took a piece and shoved it into my mouth. My eyes closed as the buttery sweetness hit my tongue. The sprinkles crackled as I chewed and made a production by moaning before stuffing another piece in my mouth.
“Can I have one?” Carson asked, reaching for the plate.
I frowned and turned away, shielding the plate from his hands. “Get your own. These are mine.”
I winked at him before handing him the plate. “Here. Give it a go.”
He smirked as he picked up a triangle and shoved it in his mouth. His smile was breathtaking.
“Okay boys, time for our stockings,” Elizabeth said.
As I watched her unearth the stockings, I looked out the wall of glass behind the tree to the falling snow. It was postcard perfect.
George handed Carson his stocking with his name embroidered in the band, as Elizabeth handed me one, twice the size of Carson’s. I looked over at him and grinned.
“Told you,” he said, pulling out his little gifts. “Get to work.”
By the time we all unwrapped the small gifts, I looked down at the pile that included everything imaginable from Australia. I was ready to ask if they might adopt me. But I’d rather have Carson.
“We went to World Market and picked up a few things in London. We thought you might enjoy some treats from home.”
“It’s perfect.” I’d even be happy with the jars of jellied eel and Vegemite. Probably wouldn’t eat it, but it was the thought that counted.
“How will I ever repay your kindness to me?”
“Every time you make Carson smile like that,” George said, pointing to him, “is all we’ll ever need. That’s what all parents want for their children. To be happy. And you do that for him.”
I glanced over at my boyfriend, who was smiling at me with soft puppy-dog eyes. He’d been taking photos with his phone. “He makes me happy, too. Not when he’s barking at me on the field, but we’re getting there.”
We repacked our stockings with all our treats, then dove into the packages. Carson had not been joking. It was obscene, and I loved every second.
As we handed out gifts and watched as everyone opened them, my heart was full. I’d purchased an electric wine decanter for them, along with a set of Himalayan rock salt shot glasses for tequila. Even if they never used them, they were cool to look at.
