Chapter 29 Miller - Mr. and Mrs. Claus
“Gwennie, don’t drink that—”
I try to stop her in time, but unfortunately, the effort isn’t good enough. Instead, I have a front row seat to watch Gwen attempt to swallow down hours old room temperature milk that Penelope left out for Santa Claus.
She understandably gags and rushes to the kitchen sink to spit it out.
“Oh my God,” she heaves.
“Yeah, so normally I just sort of pour it down the drain. Penelope doesn’t know the difference.”
“You didn’t think to tell me that five minutes ago?”
I bite into one of the chocolate chip cookies P left out for the big man and place the remaining bit back onto the ceramic plate. “I didn’t think you were going to try to actually drink it!” I argue.
“Lesson learned for next year…” she grumbles. I smile to myself because the thought of her already planning for the next Christmas season with us has me feeling jolly.
I don’t think we’ve spent more than a few hours apart since our night together. Gwen’s practically moved into the apartment and while space is limited with three humans and a cat, there’s never been a place that feels more like home.
I love her. It’s the easiest kind of love too, requiring no thought. I wake up and know that if everything else goes to shit, I’ll still have Gwen to call mine.
I do need to tell her that, though. For some reason I’m having a hard time vocalizing my feelings.
I don’t think I’m scared of them not being reciprocated.
I’m actually for once confident in the fact that someone out there loves me back.
But I’m scared that once it’s out there, something will swoop in to take it all away.
“So, what’s next on the agenda? Is it safe to bring out the presents now?” Gwen asks.
Checking the time to confirm it’s past the window of uncertainty, aka when Penelope might wake up and come out to see Gwen and me placing Santa’s gifts under the tree, I nod. “Yeah, we should be good.”
We pull out the pile of gifts we’ve been wrapping the past few nights from my bedroom closet, and I watch Gwen stack them all strategically under the tree.
It looks like a picture in a magazine with all of the matching wrapping paper and bows.
I hope P doesn’t notice Santa really upped his game this year.
I hold a poorly wrapped box in my lap. After wracking my brain for weeks on what to get Gwen, I settled on something that’s either lame as fuck or going to make her cry. When she turns around, she sees me toying with a corner of the wrapping paper.
“What’s that?”
“It’s for you. I want to give it to you now so you don’t have to feel pressured around P to pretend like you like it or anything,” I explain, nervously jutting my arm out to hand her the box.
“Unless it’s a box of dicks, there’s no way I would need to put on an act. Don’t be ridiculous.” Gwen takes the gift and rips off the paper, revealing a photo album.
She’s silent as her hand roams over the fabric on the cover. I don’t dare make a single move. It’s agonizing watching her flip through each page so slowly, spending a few extra seconds on more than a few of the pictures.
When she gets to the last page, she closes the book and holds it tight to her, still as quiet as a mouse. I hold my breath waiting for Gwen to say just about anything.
“You see me.”
I heard her. She didn’t stutter or mince words or beat around any sort of bush. It was clear as day. But I still find myself asking, “What?”
Gwen looks up with tears streaming down her face, the photo album of every picture I’ve taken of her and Penelope in secret these past few months still clutched to her chest. She’s in her plaid pajamas that match mine and P’s. We all picked them out together.
“You see me. Who I am, and what I want, it’s all right here.”
She opens the photo album again and flips to the first page.
It’s of her reading Penelope a bedtime story, one of the first I took of them together.
She has the most animated smile on her face while she reads, and Penelope is looking at her half asleep, but also like Gwen hung the moon.
Every page has a little caption to go along with each picture.
This one reads: The two most beautiful girls in the world. My girls.
“This was before…before everything. And yet—”
“I feel like I’ve always seen you,” I finish.
“How do you do that?” she asks.
“Do what?”
“Say the right thing and actually mean it. It’s like you’re reading from the script of World’s Best Boyfriend, but it’s genuine, and I cannot for the life of me figure it out.”
I reach out for her, pulling her into my lap.
“The truth is that you make it easy. You’re kind and smart and funny as hell.
You treat my kid like she’s your own, and you rescue stray cats.
I see you set out to make someone’s day every single day and never go to bed without accomplishing it.
I’m fucking crazy about you, Gwen. This was the only thing I could come up with to try to show you. ”
I avoid the three words I should be repeating to her over and over until she gets it. I gotta work my way up to that. My hands weave through her hair, and my lips desperately find hers.
Gwen breaks the kiss first. “Your gift is combined with Penelope’s. I’m torn, because half of me wants to make you wait till tomorrow. The other half kind of wants to spoil the surprise now, in fear you might blow a gasket.”
I laugh. “I can wait, I trust you.”
“Thank you,” she breathes. “For your trust, and for the most beautiful gift I’ve ever received.”
“I’m sorry it’s not more—”
Suddenly, I’m being whacked on the arm with the photo album.
We finish setting up before crawling into bed. And even though I check the clock and see we have mere hours before Penelope comes barrelling through the door, stocking in hand, ready to get the festivities rolling, Gwen and I keep each other up.
I rock into her from behind, breathing in the scent of her shampoo when we finish at the same time.
Afterwards, we talk about next Christmas and how to do things bigger and better, like a team.
When she falls asleep, I kiss the top of her head and whisper an I love you, the same way I’ve been doing every night.
Not to brag, and not without Gwen’s help, but I fucking crushed the whole Christmas thing this year. P’s never been so happy in her life. Maybe it has more to do with the fact that Penelope now has Gwen to ooh and ahh at every present, adding to the joy, but nevertheless, I’m stoked.
Few things hold a candle to a child’s happiness on Christmas morning. It’s hours of wrapping, days worth of pay, and very strategic planning all coming together. When you have a kid as good as mine, it’s hard to not go totally overboard.
Torn wrapping paper covers just about every inch of the living room. Poor Ladybug is trying to wade through it all as best as he can. Penelope has graciously thanked us and Santa for every single gift she’s opened. But there’s one giant box left, and it’s taunting P in the worst way.
“Who’s that one for?” she finally asks.
“Why don’t you scoot your little butt over there and read the label?” Gwen offers from her perch on the couch, Mrs. Claus coffee mug in hand. I have the Mr. Claus one beside me.
Penelope does exactly that and after quickly seeing it’s addressed to both her and me, she squeals. “Daddy, it’s for us!”
“Bring it over here. You can open it for us.”
I don’t have to tell her twice. Penelope bounces up, snatching the last remaining gift that’s tucked underneath the tree, and throws herself and the box at me. After half a second of adjusting herself on my lap until she’s comfortable, she tears at the paper.
When Penelope pops the cover off the top, we both peer inside to see two white envelopes at the very bottom, and nothing else.
“What the heck?” P says.
“Oh come on, open them!” Gwen’s impatient.
Penelope tosses me the one with my name scratched out and Daddy written underneath it. She tears at the opening of hers and scans the paper.
I do the same, not believing a single word I’m reading. “Gwendolyn…”
Anything I was about to say is cut off by Penelope’s scream. If anyone was still asleep in Merrymount before, they sure as shit aren’t now. She’s on her feet, clutching that poor piece of paper in a death grip of a fist.
“ARE YOU SERIOUS?!”
Gwen is sitting next to me on the couch with her hands tucked underneath her thighs, like she’s forcing herself to stay where she is. She nods once. “Mhm. Yeah. So, Merry Christmas, we’re going to Disney World.”
Penelope zooms around the apartment going no less than a million miles a minute, screaming and singing.
Ladybug hides underneath the couch. I look back down at the print out.
There’s flight and hotel information along with the 10-Day Weather forecast for packing, dining reservations, and park tickets. It’s too much.
Gwen notices my hands are shaking, and she grabs hold of them, forcing me to look at her. “Hey, you both deserve this. I can’t take no for an answer, so don’t even try.”
“This is…” I don’t even know what to say.
“A long overdue and incredibly deserved vacation. A gift. From me to you. The only catch is you have to let me come along for the ride.” Gwen winks and then points to the dates.
“I know it’s short notice, but it was the only time I knew you’d be off work and she’d be off school.
We leave tomorrow. And Daisy has already agreed to cat sit Ladybug. ”
“We don’t have passports,” I tell her.
“Well, good thing traveling from Massachusetts to Florida doesn’t require one. Is that your only argument?” She laughs.
Shit, I knew that.
Penelope launches herself on top of the both of us. “Are we really going to Disney?! Like, for real life?!” The volume of her voice might be permanently stuck like this.
Gwen looks at me, reading every emotion on my face and without the need for words, confirms I’m not mad. “Pack your bags, girlfriend!”
“Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!” Penelope chants over and over, squeezing the three of us together so tight.
Gwen walks us through the plan for the next three nights and four days. Turns out I would have never been able to do this on my own, seeing everything that goes into making a vacation of this magnitude possible.
Between times designated for the popular rides, maneuvering all of the different ways to get around this theme park that seems more like its own city, firework shows, and dining reservations, I feel like I’m going to need a vacation from the vacation.
Gwen tries to sneak in the little fact that one of our dinners includes Mr. and Mrs. Bozelli, because they just so happen to be docking while we’re there and for once they felt like they couldn’t miss the opportunity to see their daughter.
It’s laughable considering they basically abandoned her here. But, I’ll be on my best behavior.
While Gwen is explaining the lore behind some purple dragon thing to P who’s hanging on to every word Gwen is saying, her phone screen lights up with a video call from Margot. I know there can only be one reason why she’s calling right now so I pass Gwen the phone, urging her to answer it.
“I’ll call her back,” she says, trying to wave me off, engrossed in her conversation with Penelope. She’s always making sure P knows she has her undivided attention.
“You’re gonna wanna answer this one,” I encourage her.
Gwen gives me a funny look and swipes to pick up the call. Penelope cranes her neck up to get a good view, too. “Merry Christmas, Auntie M!”
“Merry Christmas, babes! I’m so happy you two are together! Lil P, where’s your dad?”
“Why’s your face so red and splotchy?” Gwen pulls the phone closer to her face.
I try to stick my head in the frame. “Right here, Marge. Merry Christmas.”
“We’re getting married!” Margot announces, holding up her left hand and grabbing Sawyer. He has the goofiest smile on face, like he knows the rest of his life just got a hell of a lot brighter.
“Shut the fuck up right now!” Gwen exclaims, tears already filling her eyes.
The next five minutes involve a lot of cheering and crying. Penelope already has her flower girl duties planned out, and after I congratulate Margot and Sawyer, I get to work on the post Christmas morning clean up.
We have a big family dinner later to celebrate the holiday and now an engagement. And apparently we also need to pack. Because we’re going to the world of Mickey Mouse tomorrow.
Once the excitement of the morning dies down a little, Penelope is playing independently with some of her new toys alongside the kitten, and Gwen is getting herself ready, I let myself take some time to process.
To think this is just the first Christmas of many to feel like this is wild. To think I thought I knew what it was all about before is laughable. Penelope and I were fine, but Gwen has shown me that fine wasn’t ever going to be good enough for us. We deserve this kind of life.
Surprises and love and laughter and a real shot at a family. Everything that didn’t seem attainable is now here in my reach, and I’m taking it. For all of us.