The First Drop Of Rain

Chapter Forty Five

Christmas

The snow was like a thick blanket across the driveway, softening everything in the most delicate way. The smell of coffee wafted up the stairs and the faint playing of Christmas music trailed behind it. I had just woke up, my forehead pressed against the cold glass of the window, a blanket pulled around my shoulders and another draped across my lap as I sat cross legged, hugging a pillow. My screen on my laptop had fallen asleep but when I moved it woke up and revealed the title screen to "A Wonderful Life," which I had fallen asleep watching last night.

My hips ached from sleeping in such an odd position last night, and as I leaned forward to shut the laptop they audibly popped. I groaned as I stretched, mt joints popping and cracking like they were sponsored by rice crispy treats. The smell of the coffee was my only encouragement to leave my room and not just immediately jump in a hot shower before curling up to take a cat nap next to my portable heater.

I heaved a sigh as I slid off the window seat, despite trying desperately to make the perfect Christmas atmosphere by pre-setting my coffee and having my smart speaker play Christmas music at a designated time, it just wasn't the same when dad wasn't home. He and Charlie always swapped off years of who would work, this year Charlie was visiting Arizona. Normally that would mean that I was spending Christmas with Gaia, but her father was in the Netherlands and they were traveling to see him this year. This had left me, unfortunately, stranded. Gaia and I had thankfully been having a conversation last night before she had to go. She gave me a tour of the house her dad had been staying in for the last several months. It was nearly as fabulous as the Icelandic home he had stayed in a few years prior, but that may have just been my preference for the view.

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I picked my way down the stairs carefully, I went through the mental checklist of things I hoped to get done today. I hoped to call Gaia soon, she was nine hours ahead of me and that meant it would be about dinner for her now. I figured I would wait a couple more hours and call her before she went to bed.

I froze when I was almost halfway down as I heard the soft shuffle of what sounded like feet. Maybe ten years earlier I would have had the notion that Santa was here, but since Chris Kringle had been laid to rest in my mind, I was afraid. My mind churned with what I could be walking into, my phone sitting firmly in my pocket. I could smell something else mingling with the coffee scent that had only grown as my proximity to the kitchen grew nearer.

Clenching my fists, I descended the rest of the steps, ready for a fight. I knew that at the base of the stairs there was a thick plastic candy cane that I could easily turn into a weapon should the necessity arise. Slowly I began to fish in my pocket for my phone, ready to call for help should the candy cane prove to be an inadequate weapon in the face of true danger.

As I made my way around the corner of the stairs to look into the kitchen where the noise had come from, I located and gripped the three foot candy cane firmly. My heart leapt from my chest and I unleashed a scream as I reflexively threw the sparkly candy cane end over end at the threat. The thing that had elicited such a response from me however, was rather innocuous, as a huge "Merry Christmas" had erupted from the kitchen.

My weaponized candy cane had soared straight into the middle of the room, only to be caught in the agile grasp of Jasper Cullen. The image of Jasper holding a three foot long green and red sparkly candy cane in the middle of my kitchen while wearing a Santa hat was something I never thought I'd see, but was an image I would cherish. Unfortunately for me, this also meant that now Emmett, who was holding his stomach as he laughed hysterically, had the image of me wielding Christmas decor as a not-so-deadly weapon.

Slowly my heart rejoined my chest from where it had run away, and I began to survey the room and the smiling, and laughing, faces.

All along the counter was breakfast foods and drinks, it had been decorated with a Christmas garland and candles. Esme smiled proudly, which told me she was the one responsible for the meal. Esme stood in a red sweater, wearing a gingerbread-man themed apron, her hair tied up in an elegant bun that framed her face in the perfect 50's housewife way. Carlisle stood next to her in a red sweater wearing a matching apron, a crooked smile completing his face.