Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
CHRISTMAS DAY
“Slow down, lil man damn!” I laughed, watching Lucky Jr. tear through wrapping paper like he had a deadline.
The living room looked like a wrapping paper war zone, bows flying, tape stuck to the baby’s forehead, and Monee’s three-year-old Zoe screaming with joy every time she opened something glittery or pink.
Jenie was on my lap, half-awake. Jream was on the floor in front of me, legs tucked under her, a bonnet barely holding onto her silk press, cheeks glowing with that mama joy that made her more beautiful than anything under the tree.
She leaned over and helped Minnie pull the paper off a baby doll, both of them grinning from ear to ear.
Monee was curled up on the loveseat, still holding a cinnamon roll and talking trash with Zayne.
Her stomach wasn’t showing yet either, but the way Zayne was acting you’d think she was nine months.
I glanced over at Marlon and his boys, both slouched on the couch, too cool to act excited but still reaching for boxes with their names on ‘em.
Pops and Ms. Norma were in the kitchen pouring up cider and laughing at some old memory, and her daddy was setting up a tripod to get the whole scene on video.
Christmas in the Bleu house was loud, wild, beautiful chaos.
“This from you, lover boy?” Jream called out, holding up a long box wrapped in matte black paper and tied with a white satin ribbon.
I smirked. “Open it and see.”
She side-eyed me, then gently slid the ribbon off, peeling the paper back like it was gold.
Inside was a custom rose gold charm bracelet, every charm telling a piece of our story.
A baby bottle. A butterfly. A miniature weight bench.
A tiny engraved record player that said Prototype.
A little house. A heart with the word Bleu etched in script.
Her hands stilled.
“You got me cryin’ in front of the kids,” she said softly, voice shaking as she looked up at me.
“That’s alright. You cry pretty.”
The room faded around us for a second. Just me and her. The love of my life sitting on the floor in her robe with two babies under two, one in her lap and two more still forming inside her and somehow, somehow, she still looked at me like I was everything.
“I love you, Jream.”
“I love you more, Lucky Bleu.”
I leaned down and kissed her slowly. I didn’t care who was watching.
“Mamaaaa!” Lucky Jr. yelled. “Open mine!”
Jream wiped her eyes and laughed, pulling their toddler in with one arm and cradling Jenie close with the other.
The doorbell rang just as Lucky Jr. dove headfirst into another pile of gifts, tissue paper flying like confetti. I glanced toward the front and saw her father stand up quick. He smoothed down his sweater like he’d been waiting on this exact moment.
Jream was helping Jenie unwrap a soft plush unicorn, totally unaware. Her laughter mixed in with the other kids’ squeals made it damn near hard to pull myself off this couch, but the weight in her dad’s expression told me this wasn’t just anybody at the door.
I followed him to the front quietly, and as soon as he opened the door, I saw him.
Old man stood tall, skin dark and smooth like aged mahogany, gray trimmed beard lined to perfection. He had a hat on, the kind old men wear when they still believe in being presentable, and a caramel brown coat with a hint of cologne that hit before his voice did.
“Is she here?” he asked.
“She is,” her father said. “And… she doesn’t know you’re here.”
The man nodded once, his eyes full of regret and hope.
I stood back, watching the two men, wondering what kind of history lay between them and what kind of storm might be stepping into our living room on Christmas morning.
“Lucky,” her daddy said, motioning toward me. “This is my father.”
“Pop,” I said, extending a hand. “Welcome.”
He gripped mine firm. Old man strength.
“Appreciate you, son. That your boy with the baby doll on his head?”
I laughed. “Yes sir, that’s mine. Both of them. And two more on the way.”
His eyes sparked with surprise. “Well damn… alright now. Somebody loves my grandbaby for real.”
“That’s forever business,” I said, stepping aside. “Come on in.”
He stepped into the warmth of the house, and like clockwork, Jream’s voice came floating from the living room.
“Lucky, who was at the—” Her voice cut off when her eyes met his.
The air shifted. Everybody fell silent.
Jream rose to her feet slowly, confusion washing across her face as she stared at him like she was trying to match a memory she never fully got to keep.
He removed his hat. “Hi baby girl. You look just like your granny.”
Jream’s hand went to her chest. Her lips parted, but no sound came out at first. “Granddaddy?”
Tears started before she could stop them.
“I didn’t think…” she shook her head, smile trembling as she took a step forward. “I thought you were never gonna come.”
“I had to fix a lot in me to be worthy of this moment,” he said. “But I’m here now. If you’ll have me.”
She crossed the room and wrapped her arms around him, silent tears rolling down her cheeks as he held her like he’d been waiting years just to feel that hug.
I stayed back, watching them. Watching her. That’s all I ever wanted, every piece of her to be seen, loved, protected. Even the pieces that never got healed right.
Jream was still wrapped up in her grandfather’s arms when her mama stepped out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. Her eyes widened for a moment, then softened instantly as she walked over with a little smirk.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” she said gently, coming closer. “Hey, Papa L.”
He turned at the sound of her voice and a grin broke across his face like he was genuinely happy to see her. “Hey, baby girl,” he said, pulling her into a one-armed hug while keeping the other around Jream.
“You came all this way,” her mama said, voice laced with something warm and bittersweet.
“I did. It was time,” he said, glancing down at Jream. “I couldn’t let another Christmas pass.”
He looked around then, like he was clocking who was missing. “Where your daddy at?”
Jream’s mama smiled and reached up to adjust her hair. “He’s coming later. He had to pick something up.”
Papa L gave a single nod, like that made sense to him. “Alright. Been meanin’ to speak with him too.”
Jream finally pulled back and wiped her cheeks. “You hungry? We got food, presents, chaos... the works.”
“I could eat,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers. “But I really came to see about you. I owe you some time.”
“You owe me a lot,” she whispered.
“I know. That’s why I’m here.”
Her mama placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Take it slow. Y’all got time now.”
I stayed by the archway with Jenie cradled on my chest and Lucky Jr holding onto my pant leg, watching three generations of love and hurt and healing start to untangle itself right there in our living room.