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I place the box with the two remaining gifts off to the side. “Those are for Uncle Owen and Aunt Cynthia. I guess there’s no point in putting them out.”
George walks over and picks up the packages, placing them under the tree. “There’s no harm in wishful thinking. After all, it is Christmas. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”
“So, when do we open all of these?” I ask.
“My family always did presents after dinner once I got past the Santa stage. I tried to draw that out as long as I could,” George admits. “Kids at school picked on me unmercifully for still believing in Santa Claus, but I held on as long as my parents would let me.” His eyes drift off somewhere to the past. “You know, my dad was always so busy with work, but Christmas was the one day when he was able to forget all of that. I looked forward to Christmas every year just for that.”
I can tell he misses his parents, today more than ever. “Maybe we can open one Christmas present before dinner?” I reach out and pick out one of the presents under the tree and hand it to him. “Open this one.”
He looks at me curiously. “What is it?”
That deserves an eye roll. “Doesn’t telling you defeat the purpose of opening it and it being a surprise?”
George grins as he reaches into the bag. “I suppose it does.”
He pulls out a picture of him with his family at Christmas that I had framed. He is probably about seven in the picture and is still in his Christmas pjs, his dark hair all mussed. They are all gathered in front of the Christmas tree, a golden lab sitting dutifully at George’s feet. “Where did you get this?”
I feel a little embarrassed. “You had left some change on the nightstand one morning, and I was straightening up. I was sweeping it in the top drawer and noticed it. I took it and made a copy.”
George reaches over, hugging me tightly. “It’s perfect!”
Kissing him on the cheek, I stand up, pulling him with me. “Come on. Our Christmas feast isn’t going to cook itself. We still have work to do.” I say, swatting him playfully on the rear end. “Go! Go! Go!”
“Slave driver,” he quips as he carefully places the picture on the mantle.
A few hours later, everything is well in hand and the penthouse is filled with scents of all things good. “You do realize that you will be eating leftovers for the next week foreverymeal. We’ve made enough to feed a small army, and it’s just the two of us.”
A knock sounds at the door. I look at George in confusion. “Who can that be? We didn’t even get a call from the doorman?”
George’s face lights up in a wide smile. “I think I know.” He walks over to the door, opening it. Standing at the entrance are my aunt and uncle.
I can’t believe what I am seeing! Running up to them, I throw my arms around them as the tears start flowing between all of us.
“Is this why you insisted on a full Christmas dinner?” I ask George as my aunt and uncle enter the penthouse.
He grins. “I was hopeful,” he admits. “I told the doorman to show them up if they arrived.”
“He came to the house yesterday, Ivy,” my uncle informs me. “I wasn’t very nice to him, but he wouldn’t leave without me hearing him out.” Owen looks over at George. “You’ve always been like a daughter to me, Ivy. Ever since your mother died, I’ve been determined to keep you safe, protect you from the uncertainty your mother and I had in our lives. In the process, maybe I forgot about letting you actuallyliveyour life.”
I hug his neck tightly. “I understand, Uncle Owen,” I tell him as I lead them to the sofa and take the chair seated closest to him.
He takes my hand in his. “I never told you the details about your mother’s accident. She had been drinking the day of the accident. I’m just glad no one else was hurt seriously. I blame my parents for raising us in such an unstable environment. As we grew up, I went one way, and your mother went the other. She was a good woman, and she loved you. She just fell prey to the lifestyle in which she was raised. I’m sorry if I went overboard with being so strict. I just didn’t want to see you go down that same path.”
I look over at George. I know he is remembering what I told him about the time my mother left me alone. There isn’t any point in bringing that up now. The main thing is that we are all okay and together. “I always knew, even as a young child, that she was a free spirit. Thank you for giving me such a good life, Uncle Owen. I’ve always been able to count on you. I am so grateful. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about George and me from the start.”
“I’m not sure I would have listened to you if you had. No, this had to work itself out exactly the way it did. I think all of our eyes have been opened in the process.” Owen looks over at George. “One thing I do know for sure is that he loves you, Ivy. You deserve to be loved that deeply, that truly.” His look is a bit tentative. “So do you, George. You’ve suffered more than most people in a very short period of time. You deserve what my niece can offer you. She loves deeply, and I can tell that she loves you. I’m happy for you both.”
I walk over to George, taking his hands in mine. “He’s known me my entire life, George. I do love you, and I love you even more for having the courage to fix this. That couldn’t have been easy.”
George places his hands on either side of my face. “I love you so much, Ivy. I finally feel like I’m living again and not just existing. There’s a difference. You’ve given me so much. I want you to know that I am here for you through the good times and the bad. I can’t imagine a day without you in my life.”
As my tears start flowing, I hear someone else crying…my aunt Cynthia. “I’m just so happy!” she exclaims.
Laughing, I go over to them, pulling them both into a tight hug. “So am I.”
The timer on the oven starts beeping. I look over at my aunt. The turkey’s ready. Can you make your famous gravy?”
She holds up a bag she brought with her. “All the ingredients are right here.”
We go to work, pulling everything together. As we sit down to dinner, I look around the table, happy to share this day with the people I love the most.
Afterwards, we all sit down around the tree and open our presents. George hands me a small bag. I can tell from the look on his face that he’s excited about it. Reaching into the bag, I pull out a brochure for a trip to Italy. “Is this what I think it is?” I ask incredulously.
“Yep! We’re going to Italy.” George is obviously proud of himself, and he should be. “It’s scheduled a week after your graduation from the MBNA program.”
Wrapping myself around him, I plant a big kiss on his lips. “You were listening! Thank you!”
After we finish opening presents, we have eggnog, and we all try and one-up each other on embarrassing stories to tell on each other. My uncle picks up the picture of George splayed out on the ice. “It looks like there’s a story here.”
I have great fun telling that one. Watching my uncle and George interact, I know that everything is going to be okay. We are starting fresh, embracing the happiness. Surrounded by all of the people that I love the most, this is the best Christmas ever…so far.
