“Some time spent blowing things up and shooting imaginary bad guys. Therapy,” she informs.
“We should be able to write it off as a medical expense, no?”
“We’ll talk to the accountant.”
There’s also a nice bottle of Bourbon, a collector’s edition with a crystal decanter and two matching glasses, and she also got me a pair of winter boots, which she says is for when we go for winter walks at the beach house. And this makes me happy, though I don’t say anything. I’m happy that she’s still open about keeping the place, that I didn’t ruin that.
She bought a set of toolbelts, too, for when we’re doing renovations. In the box is one for her and one for me. Hers is purple suede, mine dark brown leather. She also has me open a set of custom bobbleheads that look like us for my desk. Bobblehead Killian and Violet are hugging one another. Bobblehead Killian is wearing a tuxedo and the Violet bobblehead is wearing a burgundy dress.
There are still half a dozen gifts for me to open when it dawns I’m having all the fun. And it is fun. I’m having a blast to the degree my face hurts from all the smiling.
She’s about to pass me a big, red box with a silver bow on it when I pause and announce, “Your turn.” And I hunt under the tree for the bracelet.
She bounces on the couch clapping her hands as I pass it to her and then rips the paper off with excitement. Her eyes go huge as she carefully opens the velvet box and then her jaw drops.
“Oh my God. This is amazing.”
“Like it?”
“Like it? I love it.” She wraps her arms around me. “Put it on me. Put it on me. Put it on me!”
I fasten the diamond tennis bracelet around her wrist and kiss her hand.
“Please tell me these aren’t real diamonds.”
“I thought you wanted no more lies.”
“Holy fuck.” Her eyes bulge as she tilts her wrist and stares at the sparkling jewelry.
I laugh.
“Another one,” I say and pass her the second gift.
She opens it and her mouth drops again. A travel brochure for Tahiti with a black bikini in the box and a pair of swim trunks for me.
She squeals and throws her arms around me. “I can’t wait!”
“January second work for you? Two weeks?”
She nods rapidly. “I’ll tell them at work that if they really want me, they can wait until the third week of January.”
She claps her hands. “Ooh. Look how it sparkles!” She thrusts her wrist out and then tilts it left and right, watching the diamonds shine. “Oh, all day I shall be excessively extra with the hand gestures. Just you watch.” She does a jazz hands gesture, making me laugh.
I sip my coffee, watching her pull the last few boxes over. I work my way through them, having the time of my life. Not only because of what I get, but more because of how excited Violet is with every box that I open.
A pair of gym shoes. A nice bottle of aftershave. A robe, since she claimed mine (but she warns me it’s so soft she might have to claim it too), and the last one she hands me is a small gift bag. I pull out a black apron with embroidery. It says, “My Daddy Makes the Best Pizza in the World.” And there’s even an embroidered pizza slice on it.
“No pineapple on this. See?” I flash it. “That’s why it’s the best pizza.”
She giggles and bops my head with a throw pillow from the couch.
I throw my arms around her. “I love this the most.”
“I love you the most,” she says.
I wrap her up tighter in my arms. “Merry Christmas, baby. Thank you for making this the best one I’ve had. Ever.”
“I have one more gift for you,” she says.
She stands up, facing me.
“Do I get to play with the candy canes?” I reach under her nightshirt and grip her ass with both hands. She smiles and shakes her head. “Nope. Come.” She takes my hand and pulls me to the balcony door.
“It’s snowing. Yay!” Violet exclaims. And then she opens the door.
“What’re you doing?” I ask. “You’ll freeze out there.”
“Just quick. I’ll throw on my new robe. One sec. Oh, I mean your new robe.” She throws air quotes over the word your.
“Claimed it already? Sheesh. I haven’t even tried it on yet,” I complain.
She shrugs it on. “Ooh, so soft.”
I catch sight of something new on the balcony. A large something with a big red velvet bow on it.
“Is that what I think it is?” I ask.
She passes me the new sweater she bought me, then slips into the slippers I bought her the other day. They’re by the patio doors.
“How’d you get this here? I stepped out here last night.”