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“So,” Eddie began, tugging her coat more tightly around her as they made their way towards the tree farm’s entrance, “has Christmas always been such a big deal to your family?”
“What do you mean?” Jamie asked curiously, hand falling to the small of her back as he greeted the worker at the entrance.
“Well, I mean, my family didn’t even put up decorations until the twenty-fourth some years, and yours bursts into song during the first week of December,” Eddie explained. “I mean, I know this is my second Reagan Christmas, but I’m still not entirely used to all the holly-jolliness.”
“My mother loved Christmas,” Jamie informed her. “My grandmother, too. So, when Mom got sick, it was – I mean, she tried to pretend everything was okay throughout it all, but Christmas was – it was the only time she wasn’t pretending. It was like all the happiness made her healthier, or something. Our first Christmas without her, we didn’t want to celebrate at all, but Dad… Dad said she’d want us to celebrate even more, to remind ourselves of what we had to be thankful for instead of what we had to grieve. So, every year…”
“Christmas is a big deal,” Eddie finished, nodding her understanding. “That’s incredibly sweet.”
Jamie shrugged. “I guess so. It’s all we’ve ever known, so…” He glanced over at her. “The twenty-fourth? Really?”
“This is the same man who mocked my belief in Santa,” she pointed out. “He wanted to be there with us to put them up, but he was usually gone on business from late November until the twenty-third, so, yes. We put our decorations up on Christmas Eve.”
“That’s…” Jamie trailed off, unsure of what to say.
“Extremely controlling of him?” Eddie suggested drily. “Yes, it is. But, you know, you’ve met the man, so you really shouldn’t be all that surprised.” She smiled sadly, staring off into space. “Stefan was really the only reason I kept going home for the holidays after my father’s arrest. Since he died, well, my mom and I have decided celebratory texts are best. She’ll be spending the holidays in Paris.”
“I’m sorry,” Jamie murmured, pulling her snugly into his side.
“Don’t be. I’m pretty used to it at this point.” She glanced up at one of the trees they’d just made their way past. “That one looks pretty good.”
“It does,” Jamie agreed. “It’ll fit nicely in the apartment.”
“It’s a very nice tree.” Eddie linked her arm through his, leaning her head against his shoulder. “All the bad Christmases don’t matter as much anymore.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
“Because,” she said, turning her head slightly to press a kiss to his cheek, “I’m pretty sure some of my best are in front of me.”