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Inside the house, I head to the kitchen and make a pot of coffee for my parents so they can take travel mugs with them for the road. It's going to be a long drive in the middle of the night. Still, I can tell my dad was preparing for this. He told me he took a long nap this afternoon.
I can tell my parents are talking about something animatedly in the bedroom, but when they come out to pour their coffee, they suddenly seem quiet.
"What's going on?" I ask. "I feel like there's some second conversation going on."
"Well, son"—Pop looks at Mom—"it's none of our business, and it may be out of the question. However, if something comes up with you and Miracle, I mean, and you feel inclined—" He pauses, looking at my mom again.
"Go on, Hank, just say it."
"The thing is, in case of an emergency, there's a box in my top dresser drawer."
"A box?" I repeat. "Of what?"
My mom smiles. "Oh, you'll just have to look yourself. All right?"
"Okay,” Pops says, walking to the closet in the hall and grabbing both his and my mom's coat. “Well, we are going to head out because I have a honeymoon to go on."
Soon my parents are in the car and driving away. I stand in the doorway waving goodbye. The snow has begun to fall again, and I think about the morning ahead. I look at my clock, and it's already 2:00 AM. Miracle is going to be here in four hours. I yawn, exhausted all of a sudden. Before I head to my bed, I look in the kitchen to make sure there's stuff for breakfast. There's plenty of coffee and milk. There's eggs, sausage, and a box of pastries on the counter. Perfect.
And then, once in my bedroom, I look in my drawers, wondering if there's any pajamas left from ages ago. I smile when I see a pair of green and red checked flannel pants. Tugging off my khakis, I trade them for the Christmas attire. I put on a fresh white T-shirt and set my alarm for 5:45, enough time to brush my teeth and wash my face before Miracle knocks on the door.
I wake with a jolt when the alarm clock buzzes, ringing me awake. I hardly got any sleep, but somehow I feel like I am lit up with plenty of caffeine. The idea of seeing Miracle here has me excited in ways I may never have been before. I brush my teeth quickly and wash my face. In the living room, I put on a pot of coffee and check to see that the lights are lit on the Christmas tree. That's when I realize I don't have a present for the girl coming to visit me on Christmas morning.
I groan, wondering what I can do with such short notice. Sure, my mom has pots of poinsettias around, and I could always do something like write her a quick letter. But what would I even say?
Instead, I walk into my parents' bedroom, remembering the in-case-of-emergency gift my pops mentioned. I open his drawer and see only one box amid the pairs of folded white socks.
A ring box.
I open the box and see a ring I remember. It was my Grandmother Holly's ring. It's a beautiful emerald-cut diamond glittering in the dark morning light.
My doorbell jingles. I'm so nervous, I jump out of the bedroom and to the front door before I realize the ring box is still in my hand. When I open the door, Miracle is a smiling, bright-faced beauty.
"Get in here," I say. "It's freezing." I shake my head. "I should have come and got you."
"No," she says, "it was beautiful actually. It was like this early morning twilight walk and ..." She smiles. "Gosh, I'm really happy to be here."
I look at her wondering how in the hell this woman is at my house on Christmas morning. She has a pale blue knit cap on her head and that red wool coat and big black boots on.
I step inside and shut the door. And she looks down, seeing the box in my hand. "Oh," she says. She bites her bottom lip. "What's that?"
I laugh nervously, realizing it's more awkward if I don't show her. I hand it over. "It was my Grandma Holly's wedding ring."
"It's so pretty," she says, lifting it out of the box.
"Yeah, my parents gave it to me, and ..."
"That's sweet," she says.
"I wonder how it would look on your finger," I say before thinking.
Her eyes widen. "I don't know. It might be weird to put on your grandma's wedding ring, Silas. I mean ..." She looks around the living room. It's so quiet and empty. The lights on the Christmas tree are the only lights on in the house. There's a hush, like we're on the precipice of some sort of magic moment.
"I want to see it on you," I urge. "I don't know. Just indulge me. It's Christmas."
She laughs. "Okay. I'm sure it looks just like it did on your grandma."
"Well, my grandma was a really wonderful woman. Very special."
