Un-Tying the Knot {h.s.}

Chapter 32

When I finally make my way downstairs after a long call with my family, I notice the kitchen is quiet. The record player is no longer playing, and the only trace of the loud, boisterous group causing a raucous earlier this evening is from muffled voices down the hall.

I follow them, stumbling upon the immediate family tucked into the large family room. Nana and Paps were on the couch with Anne and Robin sipping coffee. Nick was in the oversized chair next to them, Candy on the floor using his legs as pillows while he played with her copper hair -- the former chatting gleefully with his best friend who was situated on the love-seat to his right with his fiancé. Gemma and her husband were sitting on the floor near the tree, watching their little girl shake presents to hear the noise it made while the dogs were laid out haphazardly, tails swinging and snorting here and there as they watched the little girl cautiously.

"Bout time you got down here," Harry exclaims when he sees me.

I blush a little as I cross the room, finding a spot on the floor near Candy. I wasn't paying attention when one of the dogs sneaks up behind me, brushing his snout against my ear happily. I laugh, startled.

"We were waiting for you to open presents," he smiles, noticing how much his favorite dog loved me.

"See, Olivia...he's not that impatient at all..." his mother deadpans, eliciting a playful scowl from her son.

"You shouldn't have waited on me, it's not like I have any..." I trail off, not expecting to be receiving or giving gifts. My hand goes to rub Charlie's back since the mutt refused to leave my side.

"This one's for you..." Gemma interrupted, handing me a large, flat, square package.

I was bewildered at the tag that said "from the family," looking up at everyone cautiously. I suddenly feel guilty that I didn't think to get them anything.

"Go on," Harry chides, biting his bottom lip in anticipation when I go to open it. "You didn't really think you wouldn't have anything to open on Christmas Eve, did you?" He smirks as he starts on his own present, Eleanor following suit.

"You guys didn't have to do that..." I mutter as I shred the paper, trying to fight the tears at how warm the gesture made me feel. I'm shocked to see a shrink-wrapped vinyl record, a stoic man with dark tousled hair and circular glasses. "Imagine" by John Lennon is written at the top, and I gasp.

"That's a first edition LP press," Harry offers, watching me with amusement. He pulls a dark brown sweater from a box and smiles brightly. "Thanks, Mum!"

"Wow, this is..." I whisper, running my fingers over the cover slowly, too in shock to notice anything else around me. This was too much.

Harry knew that my parents listened to this record on repeat when I was young, putting it on while they went about their business. My mom had loved the Beatles more than anything, which I guess is where my penchant for good music came from. I remembered her telling me how the day that John Lennon died was one of the saddest of her life, how she felt so lost and despondent, as if she had known him personally. And in a way, it felt like she had.

"Harry said you like John Lennon," Anne mentions, peering over at her son. "'...because he's John Lennon,' he said." The room chuckles a little.

"Well, yes -- of course," I reply, still in awe. I tug the record up to my chest and hug it. "This is way too much. Thank you, truly."