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This feels so right.
Jack pulls his wife closer to his side. “We wanted to pop in and say hello, but if we don’t get those cookies out of the oven, we’ll burn them…again.”
“Oh, hush, we’re not burning them. He’s always such a worrywart.” Mary looks at me as if I’m being let in on an inside joke. “The cider’s on the stove. Matthew, be a dear and get settled in upstairs, then come back down and help Dad sort out his new computer.”
“It’s working perfectly fine,” Jack sighs.
“What did you do this time?” Matthew appears at his father’s side, giving him a pat on the back. It’s like I’m on the set of a movie, watching a closely-knit family interact.The urge to throw on a mask appears. I want so desperately to fit in, to be accepted by everyone here. But I hold off.
I’m good enough as myself.
Jack goes to speak, but Aaron pushes past their legs, looking up at Mary with puppy-dog eyes that I’m sure could melt even the coldest ice caps. “Mima, please, you said Molly opens it?” He holds up a box wrapped in bright red paper.
“Ah, of course.” Mary takes the gift out of his hands and passes it to me. “It’s just a little something that everyone gets when they come to their first Hudson Christmas.”
“Oh, th-thank you, you shouldn’t have,” I stammer. Mary waves her hand dismissively.
Aaron turns to face me, all wide-eyed and grinning. “Can I help you open it?”
“Sure.” I smile, holding out the box.
“We want to help too,” Taylor and Willow sing in unison. Then the rest of the kids rush over, forming a circle around me.
“I don’t see why we can’t all open it together.” I lower myself, coming eye level with all the giggling faces. “Why doesn’t this side pull apart the bow, and the other side can rip apart the paper?”
A frenzy ensues, like a piranha tank during feeding time. As the kids disperse, seemingly satisfied with their unwrapping task, a white garment box is left on the floor.
Inside sits a bright red sweater in a thick cable knit. On the front, the letter M is stitched in beautiful gold thread. I run my hands over the soft fabric.
A prickle of tears pinches my lids.
“Just like all of my kids.” Mary grins. “Matthew said you like it bright, so I dug up my most brilliant yarn. You look like you’re into fashion, wearing names I’m sure I can’t pronounce, but I hope you like it.”
I look around and notice that most of the family is wearing their initials on knits of every color of the rainbow. I strip off my Alaïa cardigan and pull the sweater over my head. I grip the sleeves in my palms. The fabric is soft, the perfect amount of cozy.
“I—it’s the best gift I’ve ever received,” I say, not bothering to hold back the tears welling in my eyes.
It’s official. I’ve been overwhelmed with love.
“Oh, she’s a charmer, isn’t she?” Jack laughs. “Alright, get comfy. We’ll discuss the rules for this year when Madison and Mitchell arrive.”
“Thank you,” I whisper as they shuffle away and the rest of the room resumes their conversations. Matthew’s hand wraps around mine, guiding me out of the den.
Every Christmas for the rest of my life will be compared to this one, and I’ve only just arrived.
Chapter33
Matthew
The first fullday of the trip couldn’t have gone any better.
For breakfast, Madison and Molly threw together an epic fashion show for all eight of my nieces and nephews. Even the little ones who can’t walk yet were part of it—they were strapped onto their dads’ chests, if somewhat reluctantly, to partake in the catwalk.
It was hilarious and adorable all at once.
Madison and her girlfriend, Gabby, showed off the jerseys they designed for this year’s games. They are giant hockey jerseys withHudsonembellished in big white letters, andFamily Olympicswritten underneath. Instead of a team logo, they had a picture of our family trophy.
I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to forget the image of Molly throwing on her green jersey over her ski jacket. The moment she was wearing my last name, I wanted to make her mine all over again.
