“No, I love it,” Grace said, her impossibly beautiful hazel eyes glinting.
The word hung heavy between them. Powerful and passionate. “I’m glad you like it,” Alix finally said, her voice cracking with emotion as she laced their hands together again, lifting Grace’s fingers to her lips. “I wanted to make a record of this. Proof that our friendship, and whatever else we may have, is something worth remembering.”
Helen’s voice rang up from the kitchen, something about lollygagging and Irish coffees and not letting the cinnamon rolls burn, and the spell of the moment shimmered but didn’t break.
Alix’s heart kicked against her ribs as she leaned in to kiss Grace again, but the door swung open with a dramatic bang. Paul sat in the doorway, expectant.
“Oh my God, did Mom send you?” Alix chastised the cat.
“My present for you is already wrapped under the tree,” Grace said. “Do you want me to go get it? It’s sentimental but it’s not… private.”
“I will proudly open it in public, then. I know you’re dying give the crew your perfect presents,” Alix said, grinning.
“I really am,” Grace confessed, standing as she pulled Alix to her feet. She leaned in and kissed Alix, a quick, familiar press of intimacy that felt like they’d kissed a thousand times. “Thank you again for the zine. It’s perfect.”
“You’re perfect,” Alix said, touching her forehead to Grace’s as her hands slid up the arms of silky pajama set she’d actually packed herself.
“Girls, Matt is about to pee his fucking pants waiting for you to come open these fucking presents,” Susan yelled, resulting in another round of hysterical laughter as they finally left the sanctuary of their private room.
Susan was already perched on the couch beside her husband, Steve, both nursing mugs of coffee. The twins, Whitney andBobbi, sat cross-legged on the rug in matching plaid pajamas, faces buried in their phones like synchronized scrolling was an Olympic sport.
“About time!” Helen called, setting down a tray of cinnamon rolls. “Santa nearly gave up on you two.”
Alix shrugged. “I was giving her my gift.”
Matt snorted. “I bet you were.”
Alix flipped him off.
Her dad was by the fireplace, already dressed after feeding the horses. He gave Grace a small wave that somehow still radiated warmth. “Morning,” he said, voice gravel and honey.
Grace smiled. “Merry Christmas.”
“Sit, sit,” Helen said, flapping a dish towel. “I made coffee. And cocoa for the twins, because apparently our family genetics went wrong somewhere and they don’t like coffee.”
“Say, thank you Aunt Helen,” Susan prompted the girls.
“Thanks, Aunt Helen,” the twins mumbled in eerie unison.
Grace sat beside Alix on the couch, close enough that their thighs brushed. Alix couldn’t stop the small, stupid grin tugging at her mouth. She’d missed this kind of morning. Missed the noise, the teasing, the way the house itself seemed to hum with life. And watching Grace in the middle of it, calm and shining and effortlessly fitting in, made something in her chest twist.
Presents began in the usual Wolf family chaos with paper flying, Helen trying to take photos on her phone but kept somehow locking the screen, Mick muttering “that’s nice” to every gift like a quiet spell of approval.
Then Grace stood, brushing a bit of ribbon off her lap. “I, um… actually brought a few things.”
“Grace, you didn’t need to—” Helen started.
“I wanted to,” Grace said, voice warm but sure. She handed Helen a carefully wrapped box tied with gold string. “This one’s for you.”
Helen opened it and went still. Inside was a small Instax camera with multiple rolls of film. “For instantly keeping memories,” Grace explained. Along with the camera was a small wooden frame with room for one picture, engraved withWolf Family Christmas.
Alix looked on in wonder. She’d never considered such a good gift for her own mother before. She’d gotten the woman socks for the last ten years.
“Oh, honey,” Helen said, touching the glass. “It’s perfect.”
“I was hoping this Christmas would be one to remember. I can take the photo of your family for the frame after we get done, if you’d like,” Grace said.
Helen’s eyes shone. “You’re going to make me cry before coffee. And also, we’ll get Susan to take it. You’re not getting out of the family photo, darlin’.”
