Page 101 of When There Was You
Butch draws back. “Hi.”
Falling into his emerald gaze, I flash him a smile. “Hi.”
“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he says, easing me to the ground.
“You too.”
“Merry Christmas Eve, gorgeous.”
I’m about to answer when Emmy and Hemi scramble outthe front door. Emmy throws her arms around my legs in greeting. It’s the first time she’s done this, and the affection thaws any reservations I have about being here.
I give her a squeeze, and when the dog nudges me on the other side, my fingers slide into Hemi’s golden fur then rumple his ears.
“It’s Christmas! It’s Christmas!” Emmy squeals. Grabbing my hand, she tugs me impatiently toward the house. “Come see our tree!”
Her enthusiasm is infectious. I shoot Butch a backward glance, all smiles, and he’s already beaming.
Emmy tows me up the steps and into the house, making me jog to keep up. Butoh my. The evergreen standing in the living room brims with ornaments and big colored lights and nearly touches the ceiling.
“It’s beautiful, Em.”
She keeps tugging until we’re inches from the tree, then highlights some of the decorations. “I made this one. And this one. And this one…” Several branches display her crafty, glittery, bedazzled handiwork.
“You’re very creative,” I say.
She smiles proudly, then points to one that looks decidedly…awkward. “Daddy did this one. He’s not artistic.”
I chuckle.
“I heard that,” Butch says, playfully indignant.
“We saved some for you to hang,” Emmy continues, lacing her tiny fingers with mine again as she leads me to a stash on the bookshelves. My nose stings from this unexpected gesture. When I steal a glance at Butch, his eyes shine with tenderness.
“That is so thoughtful.” I crouch lower. “Can I give you a thank-you hug?”
She nods, and I squeeze her, blinking away happy tears.
“Wanna put ’em on?”
“Emmy, let her get settled. She just got here,” Butch says.
I respectfully shake him off. “It’s okay, I’d love to.”
They saved me a popsicle-stick reindeer, a fancy crimson ball with white painted swirls, a glass pinecone dusted with snow, and a wooden sleigh glued with sequins and my name spelled in purple glitter. The “u” and “i” are squished on one end, where she started to run out of room, but it only makes it more endearing. I whisper to Emmy how special it is, trying not to lose my cool.
Carefully hanging each, I realize I’ve found a spot of my own, one where I might just belong.
We spendthe evening at Butch’s parents’ along with Liz and her family. Once again, the kids race tirelessly through the house, Hemi flops before the fire blazing in the hearth, conversation and teasing among the adults abounds, and there’s food, drink, and love aplenty.
During dinner, I learn about their Christmas Eve traditions. The children receive holiday-themed pajamas and will leave out milk and cookies for Santa, time-honored books are read aloud, and one lucky individual will get the privilege of putting baby Jesus into the Nativity manger. It’s obvious the latter is an area of contention, with everyone vying to be picked.
“Me, me, me!” Kayla demands. “I want the baby Jesus!”
Liz and Dan lock eyes, sharing an exhausted-parent moment.
“You literally did it last year,” Emmy says. “I haven’t had a turn in forever.”
Butch scoffs. “You? You twerps have taken over. It’s like Liz and I no longer exist.”
