For the next twenty minutes, there’s a flurry of ribbon pulling, paper shredding, and cries of joy from the kids. Zach and I just lean back and watch it all unfurl, stupid grins on our faces, and I’m pretty sure we’re getting more out of this than the kids. It’s our one opportunity every year to truly spoil them with no resulting guilt.
While the kids play with their new toys and Zach cleans up the paper, I make some cinnamon rolls for breakfast. It takes some finesse and a stern daddy voice to finally get the kids to the table to eat, and I’ve never seen food go down so fast. At one point, I think Cannon tried to swallow half a roll without chewing, and I was afraid I’d have to try the Heimlich maneuver.
I’m utterly surprised when Zach comes up behind me while I rinse out my coffee cup at the sink, wrapping his arms around my waist and nuzzling into my neck. While Zach and I have been intimate plenty with each other since our fight, even that seems off to me as well. We certainly have no problem in the sex department, but I realize just now that we’ve been missing little spontaneous acts of affection like what he’s doing right now. In fact, I can’t remember a time in the last month where one of us has just spontaneously hugged the other.
I’m filled with such elation over his small touch that I go weak in my knees. Unbridled hope and joy bubble up within me, and for a moment, I channel the feeling of the first time Zach told me he loved me. It’s almost as if I were falling in love all over again with this man.
“Want your Christmas present?” he asks me with a low, rumbling voice.
“What?” I exclaim, pulling away to turn toward him. “No, Zach. We agreed no presents for each other today.”
With both of us being so busy, and truly wanting to make this about the kids, Zach and I just always removed that pressure each year and agreed to no gifts.
“Relax,” he says as he reaches into his pajama pocket. “It’s not something big.”
He pulls a small, black box out, no wrapping paper, and hands it to me. I look at it curiously for a moment before taking it from him. When I open it, I’m completely confused to see two flash drives sitting in the box. With a black sharpie, someone wrote “Choice #1” on one of the drives, and “Choice #2” on the other.
I look up to him, my brows furrowed. “What are they?”
“I’ll show you in a bit,” he promises as he takes the box back from me. Leaning in, he gives me a kiss, a pat on my ass, and says, “Now… Randall will be here soon with his gifts. Why don’t you go get showered, and I’ll watch the kids while you do that?”
Thoroughly confused, I can do nothing but shake my head in bemusement and head back toward our bathroom.
So much for lounging around in our pajamas all day.
The doorbell rings and I head toward the door, yelling over my shoulder, “Zach… Randall’s here.”
He’s been in our bedroom “taking a shower” for the past half hour, which is odd, because Zach is a five-minutes-to-get-ready type of guy. I’ve long since taken mine, but I’m letting my hair dry naturally rather than blow dry it as I was eager to get back out and watch the kids play with their new toys.
I swing the door open, pinning Randall with a huge grin. “Merry Christmas.”
He’s wearing a Santa hat tilted jauntily to the left and is holding two huge bags full of gifts. I know all of those are for the kids because we also exchanged promises with Randall of no gift exchanges amongst the three of us. “Merry Christmas, Moira dear.”
“Come on in,” I tell him as I reach out to grab a bag. He gratefully releases it and follows me back toward the living room.
“Uncle Randall,” Cannon yells from his position on the floor where he plays with some Hot Wheels. “Come see what Santa brought me.”
Jaime pushes up from the ground and toddles toward him, holding a new doll. Randall sets the other bag of gifts down, scoops her up, and then rounds the couch to head toward Cannon. “I can’t wait to see what Santa brought. And I have presents too.”
I start to laugh, but then noise from the hallway catches my attention. Zach is walking toward me, pulling our huge suitcase on wheels behind him. My jaw drops open as he gives me a wink, and then he says to Randall, “You need anything before we leave?”
“Leave?” I gasp, and my head snaps to Randall.
He doesn’t even look at me, just sits down on the ground with Jaime. “I’m all good. You two have fun.”
“Fun?” I ask stupidly.
“Yeah, fun,” Zach says as he pushes at my lower back to urge me toward the front door. “Now grab your purse. We have a flight to catch.”
“Wait,” I say as I dig my heels in. “What the hell is going on?”
“We’re starting our anniversary celebration right now,” Zach says with mock frustration in his voice, but his twinkling eyes give away his amusement. “Now get your ass in gear, Mrs. Easton. Kiss the kids goodbye if you must, but I’m ready to get out of here with my wife and get all kinds of sexy-crazy with her.”
“I’m staying with the kids,” Randall provides, but I kind of had that one figured out on my own.
“But my clothes—”
“I’ve packed for you,” Zach says, pushing me again toward the door.