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December 2023
“No! Not like that!”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s just… it’s not working for me.”
“Not working for you?”
“Yes!”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s… it’s just… you just don’t have the right angle.”
“But this is how I did it last time. And the time before that. It’s how I’ve always done it! Since we started!”
“I know.”
“And in all that time, you never thought to say, ‘hey, a little to the left’?”
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”
“Seriously?”
“And I always just end up taking care of it myself after you go to sleep.”
“Again. Seriously?”
“I didn’t think it was a big deal at first. I figured that eventually, you would catch on to how I want you to do it.”
“How you want me to do it?”
“But after five years of coming in after you… well, I kind of want you to get it right on your own.”
“Get it right on my own?”
“Yes. I thought it might be nice if you took care of it. Instead of me.”
She heard the words leave her mouth and immediately cringed. Because it was ridiculous. This whole thing was ridiculous. She knew that! It wasn’t like Carmilla could read her mind. The older girl couldn’t know that this was how Laura wanted it. That this was the only way it worked. But still, after all these years, she couldn’t seem to keep quiet about it for any longer.
“You’re serious right now. Aren’t you?” Carmilla balked.
“Well… yeah,” Laura shrugged, eyeing her wife nervously.
Carmilla stared back for a long moment, completely silent, her face mere inches from Laura’s, mouth slightly agape, eyes narrowed in disbelief before shaking her head with a huff and moving away.
“Fine!” she said as she walked out of the room, her bare feet scuffing loudly against the hardwood floor. “Do it yourself then!”
“Carm!” Laura called after her.
But she knew it was no use when she heard the office door down the hall slam shut. Sighing heavily, Laura hoisted herself up and moved across the room, the floor cold against her own bare feet, the warmth from the stone fireplace doing nothing to heat it. She slowly stepped onto the stool Carmilla had been using just minutes earlier and reached up, adjusting the red-tipped star atop the seven-foot fraser fir they’d picked up just that morning. She angled it a little to the left so that it faced the center of the room before stepping down from the stool to admire her handiwork.
“There. Now it’s right,” she said with a nod and a small smile.
She took a few extra seconds to take in the fully decorated Christmas tree, the ornaments she’d been given by her dad from her mother’s collection mixing in with the ones she and Carmilla had acquired since they’d moved into the house five years earlier to create the perfect feeling of warmth and wonder. Of home. She’d have to take a picture and send it to her dad so that he could see them all displayed once more. But that would have to be later. For now…
“Better go try and make up, huh?” she asked, turning to the two-year-old black cat in the corner that had only been with them for the last few months after Laura’s incessant begging had finally led to a trip to the local shelter. She watched in amusement as he licked at the small white patch of fur on his front paw, completely uninterested in anything she had to say. Stepping a little closer, she tried again. “What do you think, Ash? Should it be an ‘I’m sorry’ cup of cocoa with marshmallows or a warm apologetic fudge brownie?”
The cat barely offered her a glance before hopping down from his spot on the back of the dark gray sofa and scampering out of the room, likely following the path Carmilla had taken. Unsurprisingly, the ex-vampire been the one he’d immediately taken to and he never liked to be too far from her for too long.
Which I totally get.
“No, you’re right,” Laura said to herself, nodding once before moving toward the kitchen. “She’s really mad. I need both.”
December 2024
“Is this right?” Carmilla asked from her spot atop the rickety step ladder as Laura walked into the room, a steaming mug of cocoa with whipped cream in one hand and a black chipped cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows in the other.
Laura moved toward the center of the space, tilting her head to the side, bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she took in the placement of red-tipped star.
“Well… I mean…”
“Jesus, cupcake, just tell me which direction,” Carmilla huffed as she rolled her eyes.
“No, it’s fine, Carm,” she said, forcing a small smile to her face. “It looks great. Really.”
“Laura…” she warned, her jaw tightening.
“Well, maybe just spin it a touch to the right?” she meekly suggested, knowing that once again, she was being silly. That if the star sat a little off-center, it wouldn’t ruin the holiday. But still…
It won’t be exactly like hers.
Carmilla rolled her eyes once more before reaching up and turning the star, wincing a little at the sharpened pine needles that scraped against her arm as she did.
“There,” she said as she climbed down from her perch and reached behind the scotch pine they’d picked – Laura thought she did a great job of not showing her displeasure in the choice earlier that day when they got to the tree lot late – and plugged in the strand of lights that roped intricately around its branches, illuminating the dimmed room in a beautiful hue of holiday colors.
Crap.
Laura internally sighed as she noticed the white strand of lights usually reserved for along the mantle had somehow gotten mixed in with the strands of red and green and blue.
How did I miss that while we were decorating?
“Looks pretty good,” Carmilla said as she moved to stand beside Laura and took the mug from her right hand, the marshmallows inside already partially melted.
Laura nodded once, watching as Carmilla took a sip from her cup, the dark-haired girl immediately cringing as the chocolate burned the tip of her tongue. Laura smiled softly at the brave face her wife forced to the surface before leaning in to leave a gentle kiss against her warm cheek.
“So, what do you think, cutie?” Carmilla asked as she wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Does it meet your approval?”
No.
“It looks great, Carm.”
It’s already the wrong kind of tree and now this. Maybe I can just take the lights off after she goes to bed. I doubt she’ll notice. Of course, then I’m going to have to take off all the ornaments too. Ugh, it’s going to be a long night.
“What?” Carmilla asked from beside her, the older girl’s shoulders sagging slightly as she noticed the disappointment Laura was so desperately trying to hide.
“I didn’t say anything!” Laura quickly said, eyes wide when they met her wife’s.
“You didn’t have to,” Carmilla grumbled as she dropped her arm and moved away. “I fixed the damn star!”
“And it looks great,” Laura said, stepping after her. “Really, Carm, it’s beautiful.”
“But…?”
“I didn’t say but.”
“Laura…”
You are ridiculous, Hollis.
“It’s just… well, the lights,” she finally said, pointing to the lit strands. “The white ones don’t go on the tree. They go on the mantle.”
Carmilla’s gaze slowly swiveled toward the tree and then over to the mantle before meeting Laura’s eyes again, her face falling with disbelief.
“Seriously?”
“It’s fine,” Laura repeated. “I can fix it.”
“Fix it?”
“Sure. I’ll just do some rearranging and pull them off so they can go where they’re supposed to,” she said, knowing she was only digging herself in deeper.
But you have to fix it. It’s not right this way.
“Yeah, sure. You do that,” Carmilla said with a huff as she practically slammed her black mug onto one of the end tables, the liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim but not spilling, and stomped out of the room, Ash quickly following.
“Carm,” Laura called after her, listening to her wife’s heavy footsteps echo up the staircase. “Crap!”
Laura sagged into herself as she ran a frustrated hand through her hair, her eyes roaming over the tree once more, taking it in.
It was beautiful. Really.
The strings of hidden lights reflecting off the dozens of intricately hand-painted ornaments that were older than her. The ancient heavy glass pieces with their edges frosted over to give them an icy look mixed in amongst the more modern baubles that they’d accumulated over the years.
It really is amazing.
But it just wasn’t right. Of course, that wasn’t Carmilla’s fault.
“But you still had to go and shoot your mouth off,” she sighed. “It’s going to take more than sweets to make up for this year.”
A tiny yip behind her caught her attention and she turned smiling at the sight of the four-month-old puppy staring up at her, it’s dark brown and white fur sticking up in random patches from a playful scuffle earlier in the evening with Ash.
“Any ideas?” she asked, releasing a small giggle when the dog tipped his head to the side, his tail thumping noisily against the floor in front of the fireplace. “Yeah, you’re easy to forgive when you screw up because you’re cute.”
She glanced back at the tree once more before turning back to the pup.
“Come on, Cujo,” she said as she patted her leg and walked from the room, the dog hot on her heels, the tags from his new red and green collar jangling noisily. “Let’s go grovel.”
December 2025
“Are you sure?” Carmilla asked once more.
“Yes. I’m sure.”
“Are you positive?”
“Yes, Carm,” Laura nodded, smiling from the other side of the fraser fir – she’d made sure they got to the tree lot early this year – as she placed the bell-shaped ornament in her hand onto one of the middle branches. “Positive.”
“I just don’t want a repeat of last year,” Carmilla said, stuffing her hands into her pockets and keeping a wide berth. “Or the year before that.”
“No repeats. Come on,” Laura said, reaching out for her wife’s hand. “It’s not nearly as fun if you don’t help decorate.”
Carmilla hesitated for a moment, her eyes cautious before stepping forward and taking the proffered hand, her fingers warm against Laura’s as they effortlessly braided together with practiced ease.
Laura squeezed once as she pulled the dark-haired girl into her side, letting go in favor of wrapping her arms around Carmilla’s neck.
“We always decorate together. That’s part of the deal. And this year is no exception,” she said as she leaned in and gently placed her lips against the older girl’s for a long moment. “Besides, this is the last year that it’ll be just us.”
“You feeling okay?” Carmilla asked, grabbing at Laura’s hip with one hand and placing the other across her stomach, her touch gentle.
“I feel fine,” Laura said, letting one of her hands rest across Carmilla’s. “Other than the random cravings that is.”
“Yeah, we need to stock up on weird shit the next time we go get groceries,” Carmilla agreed. “The guy at the convenience store is getting far too much amusement out of these late-night trips. Not to mention it’s too damn cold to go out for spicy pickles and Cheez Whiz at two in the morning.”
“Sorry,” Laura giggled as she slowly leaned in and left a slow string of kisses along the older girl’s chiseled jawline and down her neck, lingering when she reached her pulse point, the faint thumping beneath her lips making her own heart skip a beat.
Still love that, even after all these years.
“I mean, I want you to be happy and… satisfied,” Carmilla teased, playfully arching an eyebrow.
“You’ve definitely got those fronts covered,” Laura agreed, pulling her wife in close enough to press their smiling lips together. She sighed into the feeling, one she could never seem to get enough of, a small whimper escaping as Carmilla gently nipped at her bottom lip and pulled away much too quickly. “Hey, I was busy.”
“Yeah, you were busy decorating the tree,” Carmilla said, squeezing her once before letting go and moving toward one of the clear plastic bins of ornaments at their feet. Kneeling down she reached into the container, scratching behind Cujo’s ear as she did, leaving the pup happily panting.
“Fine. Ruin my fun,” Laura said with an over-exaggerated pout.
“Later, cutie,” Carmilla said, turning to look up at her, the smirk on her lips almost devilish.
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
“Fine by me,” Carmilla chuckled. “In the meantime, we’re decorating.”
“Yes, decorating.”
“And you know, some of these ornaments are super old.”
“I actually am aware of that considering they’re the ones my dad sent me,” Laura giggled as she reached for a chipped gold bauble on the bin at her left.
“Well, do you think maybe we shouldn’t use them?” Carmilla asked as she stood and turned, carefully placing a peeling red ball onto one of the upper branches. “Like, maybe we could get some new ones instead? And pack these away or something?”
The words hit harder than they should’ve considering Carmilla was only making a suggestion. A seemingly harmless one. But it didn’t matter because it wasn’t just about new decorations for their tree. It wasn’t about the new at all and Laura had to quickly swallow down the sudden nausea as she felt her stomach violently roll and tears instantly spring to her eyes.
‘New ones’?
But there was nothing wrong with the old ones! Sure, the paint was chipped on some and completely missing from others. And a few weren’t even completely intact anymore. There were bells that didn’t ring and baubles that were cracked to the point of almost splitting in two.
But they’re fine! They’re… they’re hers.
“Hey, cupcake?” Carmilla’s voice was gentle as she stepped forward, reaching out and placing a careful hand on the small of Laura’s back. “What’s wrong?”
“Um… nothing,” Laura answered, her voice quiet but she could hear the tears there, threatening to escape.
“Laura, no. Something’s wrong,” Carmilla tried again. “Come on. Talk to me.”
Talk to Carmilla? Tell her wife the truth? Explain that these trinkets not only mattered to her but were a part of every memory of the holidays she had? Explain why the importance fell down to their exact placement on the tree every single year and how silly it all was considering it had caused fights between her and Carmilla in the past?
Crap.
“Laura?”
“I just… these ornaments…” she started, staring down at the one in her hand, remembering how it always sat so perfectly on the right side, near the top of the fir. Looking back up, her gaze finally met Carmilla’s and she saw the care and concern in those incredibly dark eyes.
Because you know she’ll understand but still… she thought as a fresh wave of tears rolled in, this time a few escaping before she could stop them.
“Um… these ornaments were my mom’s. She… these were what she used to decorate our tree with when I was a kid.”
“Okay.”
“And I know it’s dumb to try and recreate that feeling but…” Laura sighed. “She really loved this time of year. And putting up the tree and decorating with me and my dad. Even… even when we did a messy job of it. Because she liked everything in a certain… order.”
“Oh.”
It was a loud ‘oh’. One full of understanding and sympathy. And love.
“So that’s why you’re so particular about lights and star placement and where certain ornaments go,” Carmilla said as she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around Laura’s waist.
“I never said anything about ornament placement!”
“No, but I’ve watched you rearrange all the ones that Sherman sent you every year since we moved,” Carmilla chuckled, her eyes still soft.
“Oh,” Laura squeaked. “You noticed that, huh?”
“Cutie, why didn’t you ever say something? All these years I thought you were just being… well, kind of neurotic about the whole decorating thing. Why didn’t you tell me that you just wanted it to look like the tree you had as a kid?” Carmilla asked, moving one hand to cup her cheek and Laura couldn’t stop herself from leaning into the warmth.
So warm.
“Cupcake?”
“Because I just…” she started, sighing heavily. “It’s silly. And stupid. And… Carm, when we moved in, that first Christmas, you were so excited to have a tree and to decorate it.”
“I was not!”
“You were too!” Laura said with a teary giggle. “You were over the moon the whole time. Because it was your first Christmas tree.”
“Well, not my first. But things were different when I was young. My parents had their thoughts on the whole tree thing and who should and shouldn’t decorate it. And how it should be done. All prim and proper. And then after… well, it wasn’t like Mother or Mattie were ever eager to celebrate. So I never really got to do the whole modern tree thing.”
“Exactly. And you were excited that we were going to get to do it together. Because you’re a giant softy.”
“I am not!”
“And I didn’t want to take that away from you,” Laura continued with a smile, undeterred. “I didn’t want to take that away from us because I was excited about it too. I was excited to start our own traditions. But…”
The sadness hit once again in the center of her chest and she glanced away, looking across the room for a moment before meeting Carmilla’s beautiful eyes once more.
“But…?”
“But I just really miss my mom around this time of year. And making her tree always seemed to help. I didn’t mean to completely take away from us. I guess… I guess she kind of crept back in more than I realized though.”
“You still could’ve told me,” Carmilla said. “And then maybe I wouldn’t have gotten so bent out of shape the last couple of years.”
“I know. And again, I’m sorry,” Laura said as she gripped at the front of Carmilla’s tattered black Patti Smith t-shirt and pulled her in as close as she could. “I wasn’t trying to be a jerk. I just… I loved Christmas with my mom. And I love Christmas with you. But sometimes when those worlds collide, I just…”
“You don’t have to explain,” Carmilla said as she leaned in and pressed their foreheads together. “I get it.”
“You do?” Laura asked, meekly.
“Yeah. So come on,” Carmilla said, reaching for her hands and pulling her along out of the room. “Let’s get some hot chocolate and then you can just tell me where to hang stuff and I’ll do it. No questions asked.”
“But that’s not our Christmas,” Laura argued.
“Cutie, any Christmas is ours when we’re together.”
A fresh flood of tears pricked at her eyes even as her lips turned up at the corners, so utterly and completely grateful for the amazing woman in front of her.
“Thank you, Carm.”
December 2026
“So, what do you think?” Carmilla asked, bouncing a little on the balls of her feet, the nervous energy one Laura had seen many times before within the confines of their four walls, but could never seem to get used to.
“Carm,” she sighed, meeting her wife’s eyes.
“They don’t necessarily have to go on the tree,” Carmilla shrugged, looking down at the two glass baubles in her hands, one green for Cara, one red for Rory, both with Carmilla’s incredibly ornate script flowing across their middles. “But I thought they might be… nice. You know?”
“Carm,” Laura sighed again, carefully shuffling forward to avoid stepping on Ash, who continued to weave around the dark-haired girl’s legs. She smiled as she grabbed onto Carmilla’s waist and pulled her close. “These are amazing. I love them.”
“But…?” Carmilla pressed and Laura couldn’t help but giggle. Because of course there was a ‘but’.
“But there is no way in hell they aren’t going on our tree,” Laura said, her smile growing when Carmilla’s own sheepish grin spread across her face.
She giggled again and leaned in, bringing their lips together with a happy sigh.
“Where do you want them?” Carmilla asked when they pulled apart a moment later, the dark-haired girl’s eyes still fixed on Laura’s lips.
Later.
“I think they’ll look great right about here,” Laura said as she took the ornaments from Carmilla’s hands and turned, placing them on the front of the tree. They swayed ever so slightly from their hooks as the branches beneath them shifted, the lights from the nearby multicolored strand dancing across their surfaces.
“Doesn’t that mess up your flow?” Carmilla teased as she stepped up behind her and wrapped her arms around Laura’s waist.
Laura stared at the tree for a moment, her eyes tracing over every inch of it, taking in all the familiar, all the memories, before landing back on the two new additions and smiling even harder.
“I think a little mess is worth it,” she finally said as she sunk back into her wife with a sigh. “Though I do have one question.”
“Hmm…” Carmilla hummed as she buried her face into the crook of Laura’s neck, her breath tickling across her collarbone.
“What about the other kids?”
“What other kids?” Carmilla asked as she pulled back ever so slightly.
Still smiling, Laura turned her eyes meeting Carmilla’s confused ones for a brief moment as she leaned in and kissed her wife.
“Ash and Cujo?” she teased as they pulled apart.
She giggled when Carmilla simply rolled her eyes and chuckled.
December 2027
“Careful,” Carmilla said, reaching out with the hand that wasn’t holding onto her daughter to help guide the frosted blue ornament onto the lowest branch of the tree. “These are really important to mommy, Cara. We don’t want to break them.”
From her spot in the archway, Laura smiled at the sight. Just a few feet behind them, snuggled into a nest of pillows, year-old Rory slept on, nestled in between an equally exhausted Cujo and Ash.
They always tire out before the girls.
“Now,” Carmilla continued as she handed Cara another ornament and guided her small steps a few feet to the right. “This one goes over here.”
“Why?” her daughter mumbled and Laura just barely stifled her laugh as she watched Carmilla’s shoulders sag.
The why phase had started that August and it was one that Laura knew Carmilla was eager to be out of.
“Don’t count on it getting any better,” LaF had warned them one day about a month earlier when they’d met up for one of their standing – and now with multiple children in the mix, required – coffee dates. “Niels is three now and still asking why whenever you tell him something. Paired with a lovely helping of ‘I can do it’ every time you try to help him.”
Perry had followed up with a “It’s just a phase, dears.” But Laura saw the way her eyes twitched ever so slightly.
“Why?” she repeated when Carmilla didn’t immediately answer.
“Cara…” Carmilla warned.
“Why?”
“Because that’s where it goes, kid,” she said.
“Why?”
“Because that’s where mommy likes it.”
“Why?”
“Because it makes mommy happy.”
“Why?”
“Hey, you want some ice cream?” Carmilla said.
“Yeah!” Cara jumped up once in her excitement, her coordination, or lack thereof, causing her to almost topple over with the glass ball in hand.
Laura automatically stepped forward to help but Carmilla grabbed both the toddler and the ornament before any major damage could be done.
I swear she still has some of those vampire reflexes.
“Okay, but you have to be quiet,” Carmilla said, voice low as she set the ornament down and hoisted the tiny blonde into her arms. “You don’t want to wake up your sister, do you?”
“She can’t has ice cream,” Cara grumbled, her tiny brow furrowed.
“No, she can’t have ice cream. And you shouldn’t either because it’s late,” Carmilla said as she started to turn. “So just don’t tell your mo- oh.”
Laura couldn’t help but laugh loudly at the guilty looks on both her wife and her daughter’s faces when their eyes met from across the room.
“Hey, cupcake,” Carmilla said as she cleared her throat. “You been standing there long?”
“Just a few seconds,” she fibbed before stepping forward and taking Cara from Carmilla’s arms. “How’s the tree coming?”
“Um, good,” Carmilla said as she nervously scratched at the back of her neck. “Just have some ornaments that I can’t remember where they go.”
“Well, how about we go get that ice cream,” Laura started, smiling at the ‘busted’ look on Carmilla’s face. “And then we can clean up and watch a Christmas movie.”
“Yay!” Cara cried again, this time the volume startling Rory awake on the other side of the room.
She hiccupped once before letting out a slight grumble as she rolled over and searched the room, the noise putting both Cujo and Ash into action on making sure everything was alright. Carmilla sighed, frustrated as she slowly shuffled over and carefully picked the little brunette up keeping her wrapped in the orange blanket Kirsch had given them for Rory’s first birthday just a few months earlier.
Laura smiled once more as Carmilla’s tired gaze met her own and stepped forward, leaning in to place a soft kiss against her wife’s cheek.
“Come on,” she said. “I’ll make some coffee to go with the i-c-e c-r-e-a-m.”
“What about the ornaments?” Carmilla asked, nodding toward the tree.
The ornaments.
She looked over at the tree, taking in the mostly decorated fir, the ornaments sparkling against the lights and smiled before leaning in to leave another soft kiss against Carmilla’s cheek.
“I think it looks fine, just as it is,” she said before turning and walking out of the room, the sound of Carmilla’s tired gait and the patter of animal paws following.
December 2028
The freezing gust of wind that hit her was enough to shock Laura out of her thoughts and move her gaze away from the laptop in front of her. She looked toward the kitchen door just as Carmilla opened it with an overly bundled Rory on her hip and an equally outfitted Cara pulling her along by the hand, the bags from the grocery store wrapped around her wrists nosily rustling together at the movement.
She stomped her feet against the welcome mat as she stepped through, huffing as Cara took off through the kitchen and into the living room in a cacophony of giggles.
“Long day?” Laura laughed as Carmilla dropped the load – carefully setting Rory onto still unsteady feet – and sagged back against the now closed door, her face, tinted pink from the cold, a mask of exhaustion.
“You have no idea. So you better have gotten some writing done,” Carmilla warned.
“I did. It was so quiet this afternoon, it was perfect. I owe you big time,” Laura teased as she closed her laptop and slid off the kitchen stool to help Rory out of her puffy purple snowsuit.
Carmilla merely smirked as she pushed off the door and shucked her own coat, tossing it onto the rack beside her along with her toque.
“What did you guys do?”
“Went to the park for a bit. Then we had lunch with Kirsch Mel. Picked up the stuff you wanted from the store. Then we picked Cara up from preschool, which…” Carmilla faltered for a moment as she kicked her boots off and stepped into the room. “They um… they made ornaments in class today.”
“Oh?”
“And she asked if she could put it on the tree.”
“Ah,” Laura giggled. She ruffled Rory’s messy hair once as the little girl ran past, following the path her older sister hand taken. “Is that why she ran through here without so much as a glance?”
“Yeah,” Carmilla said with a shrug. “And she was so proud of it. I just… I didn’t want to tell her no.”
“Why would you tell her no?” Laura asked, honestly confused.
“Well… the tree… I mean…”
“Mama!” Cara called from the living room, her tone eager and gleeful.
With one final glance at Carmilla, Laura turned and followed the sound, smiling when she entered the room to find her daughters both sitting in front of the tree, grinning ear to ear.
“What’s got you all excited, Car?”
“Look!” the little blonde said as she pointed to one of the lower hanging tree branches where a new ornament sat.
Laura stepped closer, smiling harder when she saw the new addition. A little cardboard cutout shaped like a bell – she assumed as it was a little lopsided – covered in blue glitter.
“You made that today?”
Still beaming, Cara enthusiastically nodded and waited.
“It’s so pretty. But you know what?” Laura said as she stepped up and took it off its branch. “I think this should go right in front. What do you think?”
Another nod followed as she moved it to a higher branch, securing it front and center.
“There,” she said as she stepped back to admire the new addition before turning to her daughters. “Now who wants cocoa?”
Both girls giggled and scrambled up and into the kitchen.
“You sure it’s okay there?” Carmilla asked from her spot leaning against the archway at the room’s entry.
“Yeah,” Laura said as she turned and followed the path her daughters had taken, leaving a soft kiss against Carmilla’s cheek as she past. “I’m positive.”
December 2029
“Where the hell are they?” Carmilla grumbled as she slammed another box closed and pushed it to the side.
“Where’s what?” Laura asked, climbing up the ladder and into the musty attic, the freezing temperatures hitting her full force.
Carmilla had disappeared twenty minutes into decorating the house, leaving Laura to deal with two overly energetic little girls, a dog that was more than eager to chase them around the room, and a cat… well, thankfully, the cat had just been watching the scene from his perch in the corner, his tail methodically flicking back and forth any time one of the girls ran by.
“Did you purposely come up here to avoid the chaos?” she teased, wrapping her arms around her torso to ward off the chill. “Because that’s not fair.”
“No, I’m not avoiding anything. I just can’t find the damn lights for the damn mantle,” Carmilla groused as she shoved another box aside and went to work on the next.
“Well…” she trailed off as she watched Carmilla continue to dig, seemingly unwilling to give up her search.
‘The lights. The white ones don’t go on the tree. They go on the mantle.’
It had been five years since the white light fiasco that left Carmilla grumpy with her for a week. But every year since then, the dark-haired girl had made sure to carefully string the designated set over the fireplace, making sure it was exactly as Laura wanted it. Making sure that it looked just like the mantle her mom had always decorated as she was growing up.
Making sure that I’m happy. But…
“Carm, stop,” she said quietly. “It’s freezing up here and we have two boxes of perfectly good lights downstairs.”
“But I already looked through those,” Carmilla argued, continuing to search. “The white ones aren’t there.”
“No. But… well, I’m sure the blue will look just as nice. Or the red. Or even the multicolored ones that blink.”
Carmilla stopped digging and turned to her, her face a mask of confusion.
“But your mom always put white lights over the mantle.”
“You’re right. She did,” Laura agreed, smiling fondly at the memories filling her at that moment. “She always said it was something about the juxtaposition of cold from the lights and warmth from the fire.”
“Right. So we need the white strand,” Carmilla said, shrugging and bending over to resume the search.
“Carm,” Laura said as she stepped forward, grabbing onto her wife’s hips and turning her around. She smiled softly at the beautiful woman in front of her, more in love with her now than ever.
And how could I not be, she thought as she leaned in and placed a long, slow kiss against Carmilla’s slightly chapped lips. She smiled again as they pulled apart, the older girl’s eyes a little dazed. But still sweet. Still determined. Still amazing. God, I love her.
“We don’t need the white lights,” she said, kissing her again, this time even slower, smiling when Carmilla quietly groaned and pulled her closer, her fingers dancing just below the hem of Laura’s sweater, skin against skin. “Come downstairs. We need to finish decorating and get the girls to bed.”
“And after that?”
“And after that… I’ll take you to bed,” she said with a teasing smile as she turned and pulled a now smirking Carmilla along.
December 2030
“Laura?” Carmilla called, the sound of the front door closing behind her echoing throughout the first floor of the house.
“In here, Carm,” Laura called back as she continued to sweep the broken blue shards that littered the floor into the dustpan.
“Sorry, I’m late. The meeting with Dean Clauster ran late and I had a line of students outside my door for about two hours with questions on the upcoming final. Absolutely terrible day and- what in the hell happened in here?” Carmilla asked as she stepped into the room and took in the scene in front of her.
Laura glanced up and surveyed the mess herself. Bins open and spilling out decorations scattered amongst other boxes that looked a little worse for the wear from years of shuffling to and from the attic. Some of their larger blankets from the guest room closet lay draped across the furniture and strands of lights crisscrossed over the floor, halfway tangled in impossible knots.
“The girl’s wanted to decorate,” she shrugged with a quiet giggle. “And they got bored about five minutes into it like I knew they would, so they decided to make forts out of the boxes instead.”
“And where are they now?” Carmilla asked as she continued to look around the jumbled disarray in amusement.
“Upstairs.”
“They’re quiet,” Carmilla said warily.
“I know. Isn’t it nice?” Laura giggled. “I just checked on them and they’re fine. Playing with one of the new puzzles my dad sent them in Cara’s room.”
“And where are the four-legged ones?”
“With the girls,” Laura laughed again as she stood up and dumped the dustpan into an empty plastic bag. “When I checked, Cujo was working on his bone and Ash was watching everything from the top of Cara’s dresser.”
“Everyone’s behaving. Really is a fucking Christmas miracle,” she said as she kicked off her heels with a relieved sigh.
“Carm!” Laura chastised, unable to keep the right side of her lips from tugging upward. “I mean it, if we get a call from the school because one of the girls start dropping f-bombs, you’re going alone.”
Carmilla merely shrugged and shucked her blazer, tossing it to the side before meeting Laura’s eyes again.
“What broke?” she asked, nodding toward the bag in Laura’s hands as she stepped closer.
“Oh. The snowflake one,” Laura shrugged, tying the bag up and setting it aside. “It was the one my mom got for my eighth Christmas.”
“Shit, cupcake, I’m sorry,” Carmilla said as she reached out and pulled Laura close. “Who broke it?”
“Me,” Laura said with a shake of her head as she wrapped her arms around her wife’s neck. “Slipped right out of my hands.”
“Well, maybe we can find another one,” Carmilla shrugged. “I mean, I know it won’t be your moms but… well, at least it’ll still look like your tree.”
My tree.
It had been years of this. Of silly flights over which ornament went where and how the lights had to be strung and what kind of tree they had to get.
And none of it matters, Laura thought as she stared back into Carmilla’s incredibly caring eyes for a long moment before leaning in and leaving a soft kiss against her lips.
“No,” she said as she pulled away.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not my tree, Carm. It’s ours. It’s yours and mine. And the girls. And… the four-legged kids,” Laura said with a giggle as she nodded toward the fir where four ornaments hung in the middle. Cara’s green one, Rory’s red one, and the two little paw print baubles that Carmilla had printed Ash and Cujo on after Laura had begged and begged her to make them. “I… I forgot that and… I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t forget that, Laura,” Carmilla said as she reached up and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind Laura’s ear. “Yes. You’re a little particular. But-”
“But it’s time to move on,” Laura cut in. “It doesn’t matter what our tree looks like or what strand of lights belongs where. My memories of my mom are still here. And now… well, now we can keep making new memories and add them in. And it’ll be even better.”
Carmilla’s lips quirked ever so slightly, her hands squeezing at Laura’s hips as she stared for a long moment.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Laura agreed.
“Are you sure?”
“Carm, stop,” Laura laughed. “I’m positive. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. Because what we have now is what counts. And I love what we have. That’s what I don’t want to change. That’s what counts.”
“It is pretty great,” Carmilla agreed.
“It is. Now come on. Let’s get some cocoa-”
“Wine,” Carmilla interrupted. “Long day, remember?”
“Yes, wine, that’s what I meant,” she said, shaking her head and smiling harder. “Let’s get some wine and then decorate our tree tonight.”
“What about the girls?”
“Hmm… no, they can’t have wine,” Laura teased. “But they can help us whenever they decide they’re bored with the puzzle. I’m giving them about…” She trailed off for a moment, glancing at the clock on the far wall. “Six more minutes before they quit.”
“Wow. Six whole minutes of peace and quiet and you,” Carmilla smirked as she leaned in, her lips tickling against Laura’s as she spoke. “Whatever will I do?”
Laura giggled, the sound turning into a soft sigh as Carmilla pressed their mouths together, soft and sweet and loving.
And perfect.
“Come on. Let’s get that wine,” she said as they broke apart and she shuffled past, attempting to pull her wife along with her to the kitchen.
“Well, at least…” Carmilla trailed off as she let go of Laura’s hand and moved toward the step stool still sitting alongside the tree, quickly climbing onto it.
“At least what?” Laura pressed.
Carmilla just shook her head as she reached up and adjusted the red-tipped star so that it faced the center of the room.
“There,” she said as she moved off the stool and back toward Laura, eyes warm and loving. “Now we can get wine.”
“I love you, Carm,” she said with a smile as she stepped forward and grabbed onto her wife’s hips.
“Love you too, cupcake,” Carmilla echoed as she leaned in and pressed their lips together.