Hours later, after their neighbor Betty arrived with her yippy Jack Russell and Mary’s family joined them, they sat around the living room, watching the rain fall outside the window.
“Five degrees . . . we need five lowly degrees and I could have had my first white Christmas,” Owen complained.
“It will happen if you live here long enough,” Monica told him. “No more holidays in flip-flops.”
“By February, you’ll wonder if the sun will ever come out,” Mary told him.
Glen pulled his wife close. “And on February second, we’ll fly to sunshine to forget the cold.”
“Do you all know how to fly?” Owen asked.
Jason nodded, as did his brothers.
Owen sat dumbfounded.
“Have you been in a plane, lad?” Nathan asked.
“My mom told me I was, but I don’t remember it.”
Jason glanced at Rachel.
“We did the road trip thing when we moved,” she said.
Trent leaned forward, filled his glass from the bottle of wine on the table. “Oh, we need to fix that.”
Owen grinned.
“I’d taken my first solo flight by the time I was fourteen,” Glen told them.
“Bragging rights by two months because I was the firstborn and Mom wouldn’t let me go up alone until I was fifteen,” Jason added.
Once the laughter faded, Owen sighed. “My mom would have liked you guys.”
Rachel was close enough to Owen to reach out and touch his shoulder.
There wasn’t a person in the room that didn’t become acutely aware that this was the first Christmas Owen had spent without his mother.
“What was she like?” Mary Frances, Mary’s adoptive mother, asked.
Owen shrugged, brushed off the tears in his eyes. “I don’t know, a mom.” He glanced around. “She complained when I left a light on, nagged when my grades weren’t great. You know, a mom.”
Trent was the first to comment. “I hated school. Mom pissed and moaned about my grades.”
“You just didn’t like authority,” Jason told him.
“Still don’t,” Glen added.
Owen laughed along with them. “My mom was, ahh . . . she was amazing. We didn’t fight over stupid crap. We laughed all the time. She wasn’t like a lot of moms that find fault with everything.”
“It helped that you’re a great kid,” Rachel told him.
“Yeah, but Mom didn’t stress over the dumb stuff. If we had food, and she had money to pay the bills, we were good.”
Silenced filled the space.
Owen looked at the floor, and a single tear fell from his eye.
Jason squeezed his eyes shut.
“You miss her,” Mary Frances said.
Owen nodded, shifted into the small space beside Rachel on the sofa.
Rachel hung her arm around him and pulled him close.
“It gets better,” Jason told him. “It’s been eight years now. I miss them. At first it was every day . . . then life made me forget every once in a while. I felt guilty about that.”
Glen moaned. “I hated those moments.”
“Then it got better. It’s like they’re here, but not here,” Jason said.
“That will happen for you, Owen. It’s just going to take some time,” Mary said.
There were tears falling from Owen’s eyes, but crying from everyone’s heart.
Rachel sat in quiet comfort for the boy, her arm over his shoulders, her head close to his. She choked back her own emotion; Jason saw that on her face.
“To Emily.” Jason lifted the glass in his hand and everyone followed.
Owen smiled his thanks.
“I say we open presents,” Mary Frances suggested.
The unwrapping began, and laughter soon took over the place of tears.
Mary Frances presented Monica and Mary with gift packs that included prenatal vitamins, pink and blue booties, and copies of a popular pregnancy book. “Yes, this is a hint. I’m not getting any younger.”
For Glen and Trent, she bought them boxer shorts. “Because those tight things kill sperm.”
Owen ripped into his gift. “Virtual reality headset! This is dope. Ford has this. Oh, man, this is so cool. Thanks, Jason.”
“Virtual what?” Nathan asked.
Owen opened the box and moved to Nathan’s side to show him what it was all about.
Jason dominated the empty space next to Rachel and handed her a small box.
“What is this?”
“Open it.”
Her eyes narrowed. She looked relieved when she pulled out the piece of paper and started to read.
“You’ve hired a crew to finish my basement?” She looked shocked.
He leaned close, whispered in her ear, “It’s a little early for jewelry.”
“This is too much.”
“Just say thank you,” he said.
She placed a hand on his leg, looked in his eyes. “Thank you.”
He wanted to kiss her but held back.
“I didn’t know what to get you.”
“You’re here, that’s all I wanted.”
She stood and handed him two gifts. “This is from Owen, and this is from me.”
He opened Owen’s first and burst out laughing. “Basic Survival Guide for Driving in the Snow.”
Owen pointed a finger in Jason’s direction. “You did end up in a ditch. I thought you could use a few pointers.”
Trent laughed. “You’ll fit in just fine, Owen.”
Nathan had the virtual reality glasses on, his head moving around, looking at things only he could see, but he added his snark, too. “You’re never gonna live that down, lad.”
Separate conversations circulated the room while Jason opened Rachel’s gift. It was a glass ornament of a man standing on a ladder, hanging Christmas lights on a house. “It’s perfect.”
“It’s silly.” Rachel bit her lip.
This time, when the desire to kiss her rolled over him, he didn’t hold back. It was brief, but just enough to make her blush. “I’ll cherish it.”
He settled back into the sofa and casually took her hand. Together they watched the others open gifts and play with Owen’s new electronic toy.
As Christmases went, this was one of the best Jason ever had.
“Nathan is going to teach me how to drive!” Owen rattled on and on the second they left the estate.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, he said the airstrip was the perfect place to start for Jason. And since it’s private property, there isn’t a problem with breaking the law.”
Rachel couldn’t argue with that.
“And Trent said he’s going to take me up in a helicopter.”
“Yeah, I heard that . . . I don’t know.”
“I wonder if they’ll teach me to fly. That would be epic.”
“They’re very busy, Owen.”
“Hey, they volunteered. It would have been rude to say no.” Owen tilted his head and gave her one of those you can’t argue so don’t even try looks.
“What am I going to do with you?” she teased.
“You can’t throw me back,” he said.
She laughed and turned onto their street.
As they pulled into the drive, she realized Owen had gone silent. She glanced over to see him staring out the window with a frown.
“What is it?”
“You could throw me back. If you really wanted to.”
“Whoa, stop that. No. Owen, that is never going to happen.” She put the car in park, left it idling. “I told you before Em passed, at the funeral, and every step along the way. You and I . . . this is a thing forever. I can never replace your mom, but I’m here for life. I’m never throwing you back.”