Chapter 14
Wren
This year’s tree is a little bigger than normal.
It stands fifty-three feet tall and is beautiful as usual.
We leave right after the performance by the children’s choir and the lighting of the tree to take Kimmie home.
Amara talks our heads off the entire ride home, excited about the rest of the night.
Every year after Jubilee, my dad would cook us a big breakfast while we talked about Jubilee, then we would each open one gift.
That hasn’t changed and we are cooking our traditional breakfast now, all of us, even Meleck.
Because I know firsthand that he can scramble the hell out of eggs, he’s cooking them.
Amara is flipping the blueberry pancakes and I’ve already cooked the hash with fresh corned beef, cubed potatoes—white and sweet—onions, and green peppers. I’m reducing jam now, for syrup.
“How many pictures did ya’ll take in the Mistletoe Memories?” I ask Amara as I look at her stack of photo-booth pictures on the table.
“We stayed in until they forced us out,” she reveals while grinning. “We’re cute though.”
“Ya’ll are too cute.” I pick up one photo strip of just her then hold it up. “I’m keeping this one.”
Her head flips back so damn fast. “Maybe. Let me look at all of them first, after we eat.”
“I can wait.”
“I didn’t like the tree this year,” she says before removing the pancakes from the griddle pan.
“Why? I thought it was really pretty,” I say.
“It was all white. It needed some color.” After placing the plate of pancakes on the counter, she adds, “Are we ready to eat? I’m too hungry.”
“My eggs are done,” Meleck announces as he turns the burner off.
“We can eat,” I say.
“Good. Let me get these champagne glasses so I can get my drank!” she exclaims as Meleck looks at me with a perplexed look on his face.
“Mimosas are also part of our Christmas Eve breakfast for dinner. She knows I got my first one at fifteen. So she has been waiting on this all year,” I say. Then I step to his right side so he can hear me clearly and whisper, “Don’t worry. I’m barely going to put champagne in hers.”
I grab the cranberry juice and champagne from the fridge along with butter and ketchup. While Amara fixes our plates, I prepare the mimosas in the red tinted flutes we use for today. Before taking our food and drinks into the living room, we toast.
“Since it’s my first one, I looked up a toast. Can I do it?” Amara asks.
“You got it,” I tell her.
“Can I record it and put it on Skroll?”
“For the people to come arrest me for giving a minor alcohol?” I scoff.
“Oh yeah. I didn’t think of that. But can I at least send Kimmie a picture?”
“No. No phones,” I say. “Do the toast before we stop this tradition.”
“Okay. Okay. Raise your glasses,” she says and we do. Excitedly, she says, “Holly and mistletoe hanging up and something tipsy in every cup. Merry Christmas.”
Meleck and I shake our heads as we say, “Merry Christmas,” and clink our glasses. Then we all take our food and drinks into the living room.
After Meleck blesses the food, Amara tackles the tree.
She picks her one present to open. When she was smaller, she would always pick the largest one with her name on it.
However, after picking the largest box two years ago and it only had panties inside, she abandoned that strategy.
Now, she takes her time, shaking boxes and feeling them.
She decides on a medium sized one for herself then she picks the two bags she bought, one for me and one for Meleck.
“I don’t want to break y’all’s tradition but can you open two? I have something for you two,” he says to my surprise.
“Yeah, we can do that,” Amara answers quickly for both of us. “You’re with us now, so that can be our new tradition,” she gushes. “Where are they?”
“In the truck. Let me get them.” He places his plate on the coffee table then walks out of the house.
“I wonder what it is,” Amara says, still clearly excited.
“Me too,” I utter honestly. “But eat something while he’s out there. Your pancakes are getting cold.”
“I better eat because I’m already feeling this mimosa. I think I might be getting drunk,” she says and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
“Then definitely eat. You don’t want to get drunk and be hungover in the morning.”
“Def don’t want that,” she says before grabbing her plate and eating her pancakes.
I continue to eat my food but my mind is stuck outside. He bought us presents.
Five minutes later, Meleck walks in carrying a white box with a Christmas gift bag on top. He places the box on the end table next to me, grabs the bag, and places it on the table by Amara.
I wonder what he got us. As he sits and kills his hash, my eyes wander back to this white box.
“Let’s open presents now. You two first. Open what I got you,” Amara says before taking another sip of her mimosa. She gets on her knees then pushes our bags closer. “Wren, you first.”
After placing my plate on the end table next to me, I grab the bag. I remove the red and green tissue paper then see a pack of small spoons. I pull them out and my heart stops. The small spoons are customized and You Jam Right! is printed on the handles.
“For your jams,” she says.
“I love these. Where did you do this? How? They are perfect. Thank you so much,” I gush as I reach over the table and hug her. “I really love these.”
“I’m so glad. We can get more to add to your orders.”
“We definitely will.”
“Okay, Meleck. Check your bag,” she coaxes. He places his empty plate on the table then grabs his bag. He digs through it and pulls out a buckle. I immediately recognize Reece’s work. Amara must have gotten with her to make him the buckle. “It says Army,” she says.
“It’s nice. I like this. How did you know I needed a good buckle?”
“I just thought you might like it,” she says, smiling. I’m smiling too. My sister has such a beautiful heart.
“Thank you,” he says before standing and attaching the buckle to his belt. “This is so dope.” He turns so I can see it and I have to agree. It’s really dope. “I hope you like your gift as much as I love this,” he says.
He sits and Amara digs into her bag and screams. She jumps up and rushes over to Meleck. While hugging him she says, “Thank you! How did you know?”
“Know what? What’s in there?” I ask, curious as hell.
“He got me the new color Kindle,” she gushes as she grabs the bag and pulls the box out. “I’m a Kindle girlie now,” she screams. As she examines the box, I turn to him.
How did he even know she wanted a Kindle?
“Thank you so much,” I tell him.
“Of course. She’s always with a book. I thought she might want one,” he says and I reach out and grab his hand, truly thankful for his thoughtfulness toward my sister.
“I need to get some stickers and a charm. Wait until I tell Kimmie,” she says, still holding the box.
“Okay, now my other gift.” She lifts the present from me and shakes it close to her ear.
Then she places it on the table and rips the paper off.
When she sees the box, her eyes stretch to the size of eggs and a huge smile spreads across her face.
“You got it,” she gushes as she opens the box.
Her smile gets even bigger when she pulls out the colorful, denim Kurt Geiger bag.
She’s been talking about it for months. She rushes me this time and squeezes me so tightly as she cries in my ear, “Wren! Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. You deserve it,” I tell her as I caress her back.
She squeezes me a little longer then releases me. Instead of going back on the floor, she sits between Meleck and me on the sofa then urges me to open the big box. I can’t lie, I’m curious and excited at the same damn time. So I grab it and open it. My mouth drops.
“It’s a MacBook,” Amara rushes out.
“You mentioned that you were thinking about a website for your businesses, so I got you this to help. After seeing you sell out like you did today, I’m glad I did. You need a website,” he says, but I can’t say a word.
I’m speechless, really speechless. Where did this cowboy come from? He actually listens and observes. He’s intentional and thoughtful. He’s just everything. Unable to still form words, I stand up, walk around Amara, and sit in his lap. He wraps his arm around me and I kiss him passionately.
“So you like it?” He smirks and I shake my head.
I love it.
I remain in my cowboy’s lap as Amara collects the wrapping paper and our plates and takes them to the kitchen. When she returns, she grabs her gifts, tells us good night, then rushes to her room to no doubt call Kimmie.
My voice finally returns. “I got you something too,” I reveal and his eyebrows furrow.
“What is it?” he asks.
“You’ll see. Kill the fire while I put this food up then we’ll go to my bedroom.”
“Shit! I’ve earned the bedroom,” he smirks.
“You have. Amara has approved,” I say before sliding off his lap.
In the kitchen, I place the leftovers in containers then stack them in the fridge. Amara must have put the condiments up when she was in here because the butter, syrup, and ketchup are already in the fridge. I wash the dishes next then wipe down the counters.
When I return to the living room, the fire is out. The lights are off. The only illumination is from the Christmas tree and it burns all night on Christmas Eve. I walk over to him, grab his hand, then lead him down the hall to my room.
“Sit on the bed,” I tell him after I close my door.
He does and I journey to my closet and grab the box for him.
I walk out and place it on his lap. He smiles as soon as he sees the Jaxson Boots logo on the box.
He smiles even harder when he opens the box.
“Since I stole your other one,” I tell him as he places the 15x felt hat on his head.
“You got me the Premier 15x. I guess you’re really feeling me,” he says.
“A hell of a lot,” I admit.
“Thank you.”
“No, thank you for tonight, my MacBook and her Kindle. It means the world to me.”
“Y’all mean the world to me,” he admits. “Come here,” he says and I step closer, right between his legs. “I want another present.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah. I actually like my hats on you,” he says while rubbing his hands on the back of my legs. “I want you to put this on and nothing else, then sit down right here.”
“The hat and nothing else?” I ask, even though I heard him loud and clear.
“That’s it.”
“You’ve got it, cowboy,” I reply with a smirk. “Let me shower and I’ll be right out.”
“Don’t take too long,” he says when I walk off.
As soon as I’m in the bathroom, I open my linen closet and grab my new soap.
It’s perfect for tonight. Reece asked me months ago to make a seductive soap, an aphrodisiac bar.
I’ve been playing around with it for weeks and think I’ve perfected the blend of lavender, jasmine, sage, and ylang ylang.
I gave her two bars today at Jubilee and kept two for myself.
When I walk back out of the bathroom in my all-natural state, my body feels refreshed and soft and I smell like heaven. He’s leaned back on my bed and the television is on, but when he sees me, he sits all the way up.
“Damn,” he says and I feel the appreciation permeate my skin from here.
With a smile on my face, I journey over to him, grab the hat from his head, and place it on mine. I straddle him and his large hands caress my back. Then he grabs the remote and turns the volume up.
“Why’d you turn it up?” I ask.
“Because you are about to have a Merry Christmas and I don’t want Amara to hear you.”