Love, Emma

Chapter Twenty:

The morning goes by in a blur- the kids all seem to wake up at the same time, and we open Santa's gifts under the tree, shrieks of laughter and joy ringing out through the house. We settle down for breakfast at the pushed-together-table-of-tables, plates of pancakes, eggs, bacon, toast and fruit littering the surface. Everyone fishes a bowl of oatmeal out of the large pot, settling in to add whatever they want on top, selecting from the wide variety of fruit and sweeteners, like honey, cinnamon and syrup.

After breakfast, everyone kind of branches out- Helen, her sisters, and two of her brother's head to the kitchen to cook the long awaited Christmas lunch, while the remaining men enjoy their second helpings of coffee. The kids take to the living room, eagerly opening their presents, asking the older cousin closets to them assemble their new toys.

I settle down with Nathan on the couch, shyly curling myself into his side, nearly sighing at the warmth he radiates from his skin. He seems very shocked at first, his whole body going rigid at my actions. Worried I've made him uncomfortable, I move to lean back, but he wraps his arm around me, hugging my body closer.

"Y-you kn-kn-kno-know I nev-never got to tell y-yo-you what your g-gi-gif-gift meant to m-me." He struggles with the words, tightening his hand on my shoulder when one takes him a few tries.

"Nathan you don't have to-"

"N-no, let m-me g-ge-get this o-ou-out." He gives me a long look, as an after though, he whispers a quick please, and I can't help but smile.

"It's v-ve-very har-hard for m-me to th-think of my-my-myself as im-im-imp-important-t. Or c-c-cared for-r. A-and I kn-know it's not ea-easy being f-fr-friends w-with m-me. So knowing t-that someone c-cares en-enough to give me a g-g-gi-gift like th-that, a gift th-that sh-shows th-they ca-care l-lo-long term, that th-they aren't j-just mess-messing with me- "His voice cracks, ad he swallows hard, licking his lips as he struggles for the word. "That me-means the w-wo-world t-to me."

"Nathan, I will always care and support you, because you are unconditionally important to me. Me giving you those letters- I want to make sure you know you're never alone in this, and if talking to me in person is too much, or you can't see me right then, you can open those letters, and, hopefully, feel like I'm right there with you."

He has this weird look on his face, this look of contempt and bliss and joy and insight and disbelief and acceptance. He looks adorable and shy and sweet in his own way, and I want to hug him as tight as I possibly can for it. Nathan's too cute for his own good- he looks so innocent and earnest and genuine- it's adorable.

"I-I wish I c-co-could k-kiss you r-ri-right now." His mouth snaps shut as soon as the words have passed his lips, a flush rising up his neck to his cheeks, igniting his ears a flaming red.

"I wish I could kiss you too." I whisper, and he only goes redder, swallowing hard to clear his throat while reaching for my hand, squeezing it hard.

And so I sit by the fire, the boy I adore at my side, his hand laced with mine, I can't help but feel that finally, finally, everything just feels like it's falling into place.

.   .   .   .   .

After our usual routine of binge watching our favorite Christmas movies, pigging out on junk food, and finally warming up our frozen turkey dinners, Beau and I have decked out the living room with blankets and pillows to sleep, bundling ourselves up to the maximum with our still broken heater.

Beau is passed out beside me, his snores muffled by his pillow and the mound of quilts on his back, our best effort to warm up. But I can't sleep, not with the events of last night- or was it this morning? -still imprinted in my mind.