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Growing up, Emma Jones hated Christmas. Foster families and group homes were the least festive places to be during what was supposed to be “the most wonderful time of the year.” More like the most miserable time of the year. That is, until she earned a scholarship to the local university and got placed in a room with Mary Margaret Blanchard, who was the literal definition Christmas Spirit in the flesh. The first semester, Emma returned to their tiny dorm room after class one day to find it overrun with red and green garland wrapping around chairs, desks, and bedrails, multicolored fairy lights strung across the ceiling, glittery snowflakes clinging to the window, and even red stockings with “MM” and “Emma” written in glitter hanging off the edges of their beds. Needless to say, she was more than slightly overwhelmed, and when Mary Margaret greeted her with “You’re coming home with me for Christmas break,” she could only nod with wide eyes. Christmas with the Blanchards was everything Emma had missed out on growing up, and she was immediately welcomed into the family as if she had been there her whole life.
The next year, Mary Margaret’s long-time boyfriend David invited his new roommate to join in the festivities at the Blanchard household. Killian’s brother, Liam, still lived over in England, so he would have been alone over the break since he was unable to afford a plane ticket home. Killian Jones charmed his way into Emma’s heart that Christmas, understanding how overwhelming the holiday season is for someone who grew up with nothing. Emma and Killian became thick as thieves when the group returned to school for the spring semester, and the summer after graduation they tied the knot. This would be their first Christmas together, and both were excited to finally be putting up their decorations before hosting the annual Friendsmas for the first time. Which is where the problem arose.
“Emma!!” Killian called frantically.
“What, Jones?” she replied from the kitchen, where she was putting the finishing touches on her now-famous sugar cookies. She wanted everything to be perfect, but her normally level-headed husband was going slightly mad trying to get the decorations organized in the living room. When he didn’t reply, Emma dusted her hands off and stepped through the doorway, finding him rifling through all of the boxes spread around their modest apartment and muttering to himself.
“I can’t find it. Where is it? It should be in here. But it’s not. I can’t find it.”
Emma pulled her husband into her arms in an effort to still his panicked movements. “Calm down. What’s wrong? What can’t you find?”
“I lost our baby.”
“Come again?” confused, she quirked an eyebrow in a very Jones-like manner.
“I found the rest of the nativity, but I can’t find the manger or the baby Jesus anywhere. And everyone will be here in three hours and I can’t find him and we can’t have a nativity without Jesus and everything is going to--”
Emma silenced him with a soft kiss, moving her lips gently over his and rubbing a soothing hand over his back until she felt the tension start to leave his body. She pulled back and cupped his face as he exhaled a shuddering breath. “Babe, it’s okay. Everything else is ready, minus a few strands of garland. The food is waiting to be set out. We’re ready for the party, and even if we weren’t, do you think our friends would care?”
Killian shook his head, burying his face into her neck and breathing in her familiar vanilla scent.
“Of course they wouldn’t care. They know not everyone can be as... intense at decorating as Mary Margaret.” Her body vibrated as Killian chuckled at that, curling his arms around Emma’s neck and kissing her again briefly.
“Thank you, love” he whispered, his forehead resting on hers.
“Anytime.” she gave him another soft peck. “Now, let’s see if we can find our baby? He probably just got buried in some packing material.”
Together, they calmly sorted through the boxes, pulling out each piece of tissue paper and bubble wrap until the floor resembled a multi-colored winter wonderland. Finally, Emma felt something small and hard hidden at the very bottom of a box, and triumphantly pulled out a porcelain manger with a swaddled baby tucked inside. “Found him!”