Total pages in book: 183
Estimated words: 178343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 892(@200wpm)___ 713(@250wpm)___ 594(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 178343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 892(@200wpm)___ 713(@250wpm)___ 594(@300wpm)
I roll into her and kiss her.
“No. Here,” she corrects and pulls me closer.
I find my head on her chest and then her fingers are woven into my hair. She sifts them through and then she does it again, gently, sweetly. I can hear her heart beating.
Soon, we’ll be able to hear our baby’s heart beating. A smile tugs at my mouth as I imagine a tiny baby with chubby cheeks and big chocolate brown eyes swimming around in Violet’s stomach. I rest my hand on her belly. She plays with my hair some more. She’s warm. Her fingers are so soft. She smells amazing. I find my eyes drifting shut as she sifts one of her hands through again, the other landing on my shoulder. She keeps one hand there in my hair, the other on my shoulder, and my eyes droop.
***
“Good morning,” Violet says, her pretty eyes wide with excitement, dimples bracketing her mouth. “Merry Christmas!’
I slept. Thank you, Jesus.
I feel like I could keep sleeping, but it’s a start. I look at the clock. Eight o’clock. Almost six hours of sleep. And straight through, too. A huge improvement over the last few weeks.
“Good morning. Merry Christmas,” I say, scrubbing my eyes with my palms.
She grabs my right hand.
“Come on! Santa came!” She’s bouncing on her feet with excitement, wearing just a red silk nightshirt that comes to mid-thigh. This isn’t what she had on last night; I’ve never seen it before.
“This is sexy,” I say, touching the hem of the night shirt.
“Put these on. Christmas pajamas.” She passes me a red pair of pajama bottoms that match the shirt she’s got on. “Hurry!”
I drag the pants up. “Mind if I take a piss and brush my teeth or will that fuck with your plans?”
“If you hurry!” She claps her hands together. “Quick, quick!”
-When I come out, she’s standing in the doorway bouncing on the balls of her feet. Waiting for me.
“Christmas makes you bouncy,” I observe.
“I am so bouncy. It’s my favorite day of the year. Except for the past two years,” she says not losing a bit of sparkle in her eyes. “And because it’s my first one with you, I’m extra bouncy.” She gets up on her toes and wraps her arms around my neck. “Did you have a good sleep?”
“I did, thanks to you.” I kiss her nose.
“Let’s go see what’s under the tree.” She hops up and I catch her by the ass and wrap her legs around my waist.
“Let’s go, hurry!” She bounces in my arms, kissing my face over and over.
I head out of the bedroom.
And it’s immediately clear she’s been up for more than a while. And been busy, too.
Because the tree had three gifts under it when we went to bed. A small cube wrapped in gold paper with my name on it and a metallic green bow on top. A long, slim black wrapped box with a purple bow on it for her. And another small box held closed with red ribbon with her name on it. I’ve already loaded my SUV with the gifts going to her parents’ place last night.
Not only are there about two dozen gifts under the tree, there are two massive red plush stockings hanging over the doorknob of the patio door with bear faces, one brown with a bow tie and one white with a bow over one ear.
I look around with surprise. The tree lights are on as is the white ceramic Christmas tree. The battery-operated snow-globes are also on with the contents swirling.
“Down, please!” she requests.
I set her on her feet and she continues bouncing up and down excitedly. “Santa came! Have your Christmas coffee. What do you know… there’s coffee made for us, in…” she pauses for effect, “Christmas mugs!”
There are two mugs on the coffee table set up beside the snow globes. One is a Santa head and the other is Mrs. Claus’s head.
“So,” Violet announces, “we’re in Christmas pajamas and about to have coffee in Christmas mugs. Coffee for you, café mocha, light on the café and heavy on the mocha for moi. And after we open presents, we need to decorate our gingerbread house and have breakfast, then we’ll make love in the shower to save on time and go to my parents. Sound good?”
“Sounds fuckin’ great,” I say, amused that she’s got the day scheduled. “What time did you get up? You got a clipboard somewhere with our itinerary?”
“Nope. It’s all up here.” She points to her temple. “And I got up at six thirty. I hate that Will isn’t here. No one should wake up alone on Christmas.” She pouts.
“Christmas hasn’t meant anything to either of us in a long time, baby. Don’t feel bad. He’s working and getting overtime, which is fine by him.”