Kendall rubs her belly. “Baby and I will gladly eat it. I hope you two have fun. I miss doing things like that. Ryan’s schedule has been so hectic, and I don’t particularly like the cold that much.”
I snicker. “I know, it’s why I’m wearing leggings. They’re insulated.”
Mom smiles as she meets my eyes. “I really am happy for you and Tristan, Piper. I know we were very hard on you when the death threats started and—”
“Mom, I know,” I interrupt her. “No need to keep rehashing it. I love you.”
“I love you too and just want the absolute best for you.” Mom’s already apologized several times for how they treated Tristan. It’s something my parents regret, and I’m sure they will probably spend the next few years agonizing about it.
“I just want the best for both of my girls,” she adds, pulling me into a hug.
“Aw, I want hugs too,” Kendall says and squeezes between us.
“Are you excited to be a grandma?” Kendall asks.
“It’s the best Christmas gift I could’ve asked for,” Mom says.
Once the men return, we say our goodbyes, then we leave.
“How was hanging out with my dad and Ryan?” I ask when we’re in the car.
He chuckles. “Fine.”
“What do three men who don’t say very much talk about?”
Tristan wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into him. “You don’t even wanna know.”
On the way to Times Square, Tristan’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out and answers a FaceTime call from his parents.
“Merry Christmas!” his dad says.
“Oh my God, are you two dressed up like Mr. and Mrs. Claus?”
Tristan chuckles. “They do this every single year. It’s their tradition.”
“I love it!” I say, then turn to Tristan. “We should start doing that too.”
“Absolutely not,” he says.
“Hey, bro!” Easton’s voice says from behind, and his parents turn the phone. “How’s my favorite future sister doing?”
“Great! As always!” I beam.
“We just wanted to wish you kids a very Merry Christmas!” his mother tells us, and we return the sentiment.
“Wish you were here enjoying this sixty-degree weather,” Easton adds.
“Ha, don’t rub it in. It’s supposed to snow tonight,” Tristan tells them.
“Maybe tomorrow you’ll wake up to a winter wonderland. How perfect would that be for Christmas!” His mother’s voice raises an entire octave.
“That would be amazing!” I squeal. “I love it when that happens.”
“What’re y’all up to?” Easton asks.
“We’re going to check out Times Square and maybe watch people ice skate.”
“Yes, it’s so fun!” I grin.
“You two have fun!” his parents tell us, and we end the call.
“I love them. They’re so sweet,” I say as we make our way through the city.
“Forgot to warn you about how extra they are during the holidays. It’s bad. They literally dress the flamingos in their yards with Christmas lights and reindeer antlers.”
“That’s hilarious. We’ll have to visit them some year during the holidays,” I suggest.
“They’d like that.”
“Wouldn’t you?” I ask.
“Of course. I don’t care where I am as long as you’re with me.”
Tristan places his palm on my cheek as our tongues twist together. Things grow more heated, and I’m greedy for him, wanting him right now in the back of this limo. Unfortunately, the car comes to a stop.
“Will you need a ride back to your apartment, Ms. Montgomery?”
“I don’t think so. We’ll take a cab,” I tell him, then thank him for the ride.
“Hope you have a Merry Christmas,” he says.
Reaching into my purse, I pull out an envelope and hand it to him. It’s a tradition I’ve had for years because he always drives me around during the holidays instead of spending time with his own family. “You too.”
“Thank you, Miss Montgomery.” He flashes me a wink.
After Tristan and I get out of the car, he interlocks his fingers with mine and kisses my knuckles.
“I love how generous you are to people,” he says, and I shrug.
“Can’t bring all this money with me when I’m dead. Might as well make someone else happy,” I admit as we make our way through Times Square. It’s full of tourists as we squeeze through the crowd.
“You still want to watch the ice-skaters?” he asks.
“Yes, please! It looks so magical with the tree!”
We head that way as he keeps his arm wrapped around me. People snap pictures of us as we walk around, but we pretend we don’t see them. I’m sure those photos will be posted online before we get home tonight.
It’s ironic because months ago, I would’ve vlogged this entire evening. Now, it’s not even the first thing that comes to mind when we plan things. I’d rather live in the moment with Tristan and enjoy him without sharing every little thing we do with the world. Once we’re at Rockefeller Plaza, we turn the corner and take the sidewalk that gives the perfect view of the rink. Wooden constructed angels with golden trumpets line the water. Then I study the large spruce that’s full of lights.