38. Epilogue - Iris
Chapter thirty-eight
Epilogue - Iris
T he bar is closed for Christmas Eve as we celebrate, family and friends only. The napkins are now crumpled, the dishes cleared, just empty or half-full cups of coffee or tea and dessert plates left, as everyone leans back, satiated, away from the tables decorated with red tablecloths and candles.
Our parents’ meeting went well. Our moms definitely clicked, and our dads were chatting. My siblings definitely get along with his sister, who flew back from London for the holiday week.
It feels weird not to have Lily here, but she’s with her dad, Rupert, and his family. She and her dad used to join us, after her mom passed.
“I can’t believe you’re both working for Shooting Stars,” Liam says. Xavier did not take it well when both Sebastian and I resigned—even though it was because of his ultimatum. He promoted Jin Ae, at least, as I recommended, and asked Bob to return.
“No work discussions,” Sebastian’s dad says, and Sebastian and his sister both look at their dad in surprise. “I’m not such an old dog that I can’t learn new tricks.”
Sebastian raises his glass to him. Sebastian then wraps his arm around me, and I snuggle into him.
My sister’s son, Jack, climbs into my lap. “Auntie Iris, how is Santa Claus going to leave us presents? We don’t have a chimney.”
“What did your mom and dad say?” I ask, having learned my lesson previously.
“I didn’t ask them yet. I just thought of this,” Jack says.
“I think you had that same question when you were younger, Iris,” Rose says. Phew . She’s listening in, and I’m not about to contradict whatever they told Jack.
“Your building has a fire escape, right?” I ask.
Jack nods.
“Santa Claus uses the fire escape and climbs in through the window. In fact, he prefers that,” I say.
“That’s how I met Iris. She was trying to climb through a window,” Sebastian says, and we share a smile.
“That makes sense. We should leave some carrots on the roof for the reindeer,” Jack says.
“Okay, we can go up.” My parents recently renovated the roof to create a deck space. “Sebastian hasn’t seen it yet, so we can show him too.” I turn to Sebastian. “Should we tell your mom we’re going to the roof deck?”
Sebastian laughs. “No. But she still wants us to see their apartment’s roof deck.”
Sebastian and I hold hands as we walk up the staircase to the roof, following Rose and Jack.
The top door is bolted shut, and it takes a few seconds for Rose to slide it out.
“Maybe we should just leave this open,” Jack says. “I bet Santa would like stairs even more. Do we have this on our roof, Mom?”
“Yes. We can do it at our place too,” Rose says as she opens the door. A burst of cold wind and wet snowflakes greet us. I pull up the collar of my coat.
Some high rises tower in the distance, but mostly we are surrounded by other flat rooftops, some with gardens or patio furniture and others left bare, all covered with snow. The faint sound of Christmas music from the bar down the street murmurs in the distance whenever someone opens the door. The city is slumbering, like in “’Twas the Night Before Christmas.”
Jack places the carrots on a table, and then Rose hurries him off the roof, saying they have to get home so the kids can go to bed on time. She adds, “Since they’re going to be up at five a.m. anyway.”
I hug her goodbye.
It’s just Sebastian and me on the roof. He pulls me in for a hug and a kiss. I wipe the snowflakes from his hair. He kisses my nose.
“There was a snowflake there,” he says. “We should probably go soon too.”
“Okay, just let me get Fatma,” I say.
“Fatma?” he asks.
“I do want to live with you,” I say. “And she comes with me.”
A huge smile spreads across Sebastian’s face. “That’s the best Christmas present ever.”
Then he tilts his head and his brow furrows. “Was there some kind of parent-approval test that I had to pass?”
“No. You passed that when you came over and helped me figure out Raphael’s clues and my mom brought us snacks.”
A few Christmas trees remain at the tree stand around the corner from Sebastian’s apartment. The snow is falling more thickly now, swirling in the soft glow of the light from the lamp post. Fatma is not happy to be out in the cold and is meowing in her carrier.
“Should we get another Christmas tree?” Sebastian asks. “I think you have more ornaments than we can fit on my small tree. And now they’re only twenty dollars.”
“But how will we get it home? We’re already carrying my stuff.” Or rather, we both have backpacks, and I have the cat carrier. Sebastian is carrying my box of ornaments.
“We can load it up on a Citi Bike and wheel it over to my apartment, and then I can carry it in,” Sebastian says. “As long as you can carry your ornaments.”
“Let’s do it,” I say. Sebastian goes to unlock a Citi Bike as I examine the last few trees.
The vendor is from Canada, and he’s happy to sell us a tree. He’s leaving soon so he can be home with his family. We agree on a skinny seven-foot tree. After he cuts three inches off the bottom and ties it all up, we balance the tree on top of the handlebars and the bike seat.
Sebastian wheels it down the street as I walk alongside. The snow is still coming down softly.
“I always love walking by the Christmas tree stands because it smells so good and makes me feel like celebrating the holidays,” I say.
Sebastian winks at me. “Then I hope the fact that I smell like tree sap will definitely lead to some celebrating when we get home.”
T he balsam fir tree stands tall in the living room. Fatma meows as she explores the apartment. I hang her stocking—in the shape of a cat paw—on the cabinet where we’ve decided to hang the stockings, and then I follow Sebastian into his bedroom. Our bedroom.
I like the way he’s decorated it. It has a very modern feel. The bed is a queen, in pale wood. Above it hangs a color photo of the ocean. A black-and-white photo of a street in London hangs above his dresser.
“My sister took that photo and gave it to me last Christmas,” he says.
“She’s cool. My siblings liked her as well,” I say.
Sebastian smirks. “Your brother was definitely friendlier this time.”
“Well, he was being protective initially, but he likes you.”
I open Sebastian’s closet.
“Hey, no peeking,” he says. “Are you looking for your presents?” He pulls me into a hug.
I kiss his cheek. “Do I have presents?”
“Of course,” he says.
“When have you had time?” I ask.
“It helps to have a retired dad.”
“Your dad bought my Christmas present?” My eyebrows rise.
He nods.
“Well, that rules out lingerie,” I say.
Sebastian grimaces. “Definitely. Anyway, I like your cat pawprint underwear.” He scoops his shirts out of a drawer. “You can put your clothes here, for now.”
“That’s perfect,” I say. “I only brought a few things anyway, since we’re going back to my family’s house tomorrow when my sisters’ kids come over in the afternoon.”
I unpack one of my backpacks and put my clothes in the drawer and my toiletries in his bathroom.
“So is my present at your house?” Sebastian asks as we return to the living room. Fatma has curled up on Sebastian’s couch.
“You want a present?” I ask, pretending I don’t have one.
“I’m sure you didn’t have time to get one.” He pulls me into a hug. “You’re my best Christmas present.”
“I made you one. Plus, I bought these.” I pull out two stockings from my other backpack. One says Sebastian , and the other says Iris . “I thought I should give these to you tonight because maybe Santa will fill them. If you’ve been good.”
Sebastian hugs me. “Like I said earlier, I’ve been very good this year.”
We hang the stockings next to Fatma’s.
“By the way, what are we going to tell our kids about how Santa gets into the apartment? We don’t have a fire escape or a fireplace.”
My mouth opens. “Are you talking kids already?”
“Not anytime soon, obviously. But that Baby Love trip was more dangerous than I realized.”
“He parks his sleigh on the roof and comes down the stairs?” I suggest. “Or his sleigh hovers outside each window while he climbs in?”
“I do like your imagination,” he says. “Should we open one present now?”
“And you were making fun of my peeking,” I say. “But yes. But how do you know I have more than one present for you?”
He points at my still-full second backpack. “I think that holds the presents.”
“It could be presents for Fatma,” I say.
“I don’t have a present for Fatma.” He grimaces.
“I bought an extra gift for you to give her,” I say.
“Thanks. I should have thought to buy her one. Close your eyes while I bring out your gift.”
I sit on the couch and close my eyes. Fatma jumps into my lap and purrs. The door to the bedroom opens and closes. Sebastian’s steps sound like he’s carrying something heavy.
Sebastian kisses me on the forehead. “You can open your eyes now.”
A huge box wrapped in green with a little box on top sits under the tree. I pull out a wrapped shoebox from my backpack, which is now looking a lot less full, and put it under the tree.
Fatma sniffs the package as I pull the wrapping paper off the big box. It’s an IKEA flatpack holding a dresser that matches the one in his bedroom.
“Did you know I was going to say yes to moving in tonight?” I ask.
“I hoped you would,” he says. “And if not, even if you were just staying over a few nights a week, you should still have your own dresser.”
“I’m excited to spend every day with you,” I say.
He kisses me quickly, teasing me with the promise of more to come.
“Now this box…” He hands me a small box with a bow on it.
I open it up, and it’s a necklace with a silver snowflake pendant. It shimmers in the light.
“It’s perfect.” I put it around my neck, and Sebastian closes the clasp, his fingers tracing the silver chain, making my heart flutter.
“You have to open your gift now,” I say.
He unwraps the red and green paper and then lifts the lid of the shoebox. He pulls out a mason jar with popsicle sticks inside. He scoots closer to me on the floor. He pulls out the first stick and reads it. Thank you for supporting me and helping me figure out Raphael’s clues.
He pulls out another: Thank you for being perfect for me.
He chuckles at the next popsicle stick: LORYHbrX .
“I’m not going to even attempt to say that out loud. But I know what it means. And maybe it’s now time to show you how much I love you.”
“I love you too,” I say.
He gently sweeps my hair off my forehead and, holding me tight, kisses me.
I don’t think sleep is on tonight’s agenda. But then, Santa doesn’t need to stop here because we’ve already received the best Christmas gift: Love.
THE END