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Christmas in New York City is so different than Schitt’s Creek. For one, it’s the first year Stevie’s spending it with a partner, which still feels new, but also really nice. She hasn’t seen any fake neon pink trees either, which is also nice.
“So, the Rockettes?” she asks, eyes pointed upward as she takes in the Radio City Music Hall sign. “Is it good, or like, one of those Holiday things that have lived so long because of tradition?” An older couple moves by her and Ruth, and they definitely give Stevie a dirty look for doubting the quality of entertainment the Rockettes and their Christmas Spectacular provide. Still, she doesn’t know them, so it’s not like she’s that concerned about whether or not they’re judging her.
Ruth covers up a laugh, reaching for Stevie’s hand. “They’re good,” she confirms. “My mom and I started going when I was little. It’s one of my favorite things about the season.” Stevie can hear how excited she is to share this tradition with her.
“And your mom was ok with you going with me instead?” Stevie asks, a flash of concern that she’s made a bad impression on a woman she hasn’t even met.
“Oh no, I had to go with her too,” Ruth replies quickly. “But I don’t mind, really. The show is fun.” She tugs on Stevie’s hand, leading them towards the entrance.
Once inside, Stevie’s overwhelmed with the grandeur of the Grand Foyer; she’s never seen anything like it in person. It’s so big and ornate. “Oh shit,” she says under her breath, only just remembering herself enough not to make a scene.
Ruth squeezes her hand like she understands the feeling.
“I was floored the first time I ever walked in here,” she tells Stevie quietly. “It’s a lot to take in.” Ruth leads them over to a set of stairs while Stevie tries to contain her absolute shock and adjust to the luxury.
She’s glad that Ruth talked her into a fancy suit instead of the black jeans she’d been planning to wear.
Their seats are in the first mezzanine and have a good view of the stage. The rest of the audience is trickling in around them, but they still have some time before the show begins.
“This is too much,” Stevie says, turning in her seat to look at Ruth, who looks so beautiful and content that Stevie feels guilty for feeling like she doesn’t deserve the gift.
“Stevie,” Ruth replies, squeezing her hand again. “I wanted to share this with you. It’s a big part of why I like the holiday.” She leans over to drop a quick kiss on Stevie’s lips. “Stop feeling guilty and try to enjoy it, for me?”
Stevie nods. “I’ll try,” she replies. “No promises, though.” The last holiday show she attended was a high school production of A Christma Carol, a pretty significant departure compared to the Christmas Spectacular.
A few minutes later, the lights go down, the curtain goes up, and Stevie’s wholly drawn into the show. She even catches herself humming halfway through but doesn’t feel so self-conscious about it when she realizes that Ruth is also humming under her breath.
It’s hard to explain how she feels when the curtains close at the show's end and the lights come back up. It definitely wasn’t a high school production of A Christmas Carol, that’s for sure. Stevie expected the usual holiday staples, and she hasn’t been living under a rock. She’s seen some televised Rockette performances, but it’s just so different seeing it live.
“Wow,” she murmurs. “Thank you,” she says to Ruth and takes a moment to lean into her, pushing down whatever self-consciousness she might feel at the public display. “I can see why you’ve made this a tradition.”
Ruth smiles and kisses her again. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
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“I know it’s just a tree,” Ruth starts, second-guessing her decision to bring Stevie to see the Rockefeller Tree after the show. Sure, it’s a New York City tradition at the holidays, but Stevie might not be that impressed with it, especially after the Rockettes. They have trees in Schitt’s Creek, after all. “But I thought you might want to see it,” she finishes, stopping them far enough away that they don’t need to crane their necks to take the whole scene in.
Stevie gives her a surprised look. “This is not just a tree,” she replies. “This is amazing! Like, there was a year Roland put a neon pink tree in front of city hall, so,” Stevie waves up towards the lit tree, “this is way beyond what I’m used to seeing.”
Ruth sighs in relief. She knew it was silly, but she really was concerned, and these are some of the things that she loves the most about New York City during the holidays. She just wants Stevie to enjoy them too.
“I also asked David, Patrick, Twyla, and Alexis to meet us here,” she tells Stevie, who raises her eyebrows. “I got tickets for the rink and thought it might be a fun group activity since Alexis mentioned that Patrick and Twyla have never been here before either.”
“We’re going skating?” Stevie’s eyebrows are still up towards her hairline, and Ruth thinks she hears some trepidation in Stevie’s tone.
“Is that ok?” Ruth asks.
“Sure, yeah,” Stevie nods. “I haven’t worn skates in a while, but I know how.” Ruth thinks she’s trying to be brave, and suddenly, she’s a little worried again.
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Ruth says. “I can give the rest of the group their tickets, and we can skip it and go for dinner instead.”
Stevie shakes her head. “Are you kidding? I’m not going to pass up seeing David on skates,” she tells Ruth. “I mean, can you imagine it?” She looks about as gleeful as she did when they first stepped into Radio City Music Hall, which settles Ruth’s nerves.
“Besides, you’re not going to let me fall on my ass, right?” Stevie asks, retaking Ruth’s hand and moving them towards the rink. Ruth notices that she’s still glancing up at the tree in awe every few moments, which makes something warm bloom in her chest.
“Never,” Ruth assures.
The rest of their group is already waiting at the entrance; Twyla waves enthusiastically when she spots them walking up.
“How was the show?” Twyla asks when Ruth and Stevie get near enough to hear.
“Really, really good,” Stevie replies, more enthusiastic than usual, which only makes the warmth Ruth feels increase. She knows Stevie isn’t just saying it for her benefit since she’s incapable of fake sincerity. “You should try to get tickets if you and Alexis have time. I think you would really like it,” Stevie tells Twyla.
Twyla’s smile brightens as she looks up at Alexis. Ruth can’t tell if it’s expectant or not, and she’s not particularly interested in trying to figure out the dynamics of their relationship just now.
“I bought tickets for tomorrow,” Alexis says after a long pause. “I was going to surprise you or whatever, but,” she shrugs, and Ruth notes that she doesn’t sound all that put out about the surprise being ruined. “You’ll still be totally surprised when you see it, so no spoilers!” Alexis directs her attention to Stevie meaningfully, who mimes zipping her lips.
“Lex, thank you!” Twyla exclaims, kissing Alexis on the cheek.
“Are we going to skate?” David asks, interrupting the moment. “Like anytime this year?”
“David,” Patrick admonishes, throwing an apologetic look towards the rest of them. “We got here early, so we’re hitting his threshold for standing around,” he explains.
Eager to keep the peace, Ruth retrieves their tickets and hands them out.
“Oh my god, David,” Alexis exclaims as Ruth passes tickets around. “You can wait five more minutes.” There is definitely a look between the siblings, but not any of the creative insults that Stevie has told her about.
“Let’s just get our skates,” Patrick cuts in, pulling David away —Ruth thinks before he can say anything—. “We’ll meet you on the ice?”
“Sure,” Ruth replies, then looks at Stevie, who looks like she’s trying to contain laughter. “Are they always like this?” Ruth asks her softly.
“Mhm,” Stevie confirms. “Skipping and going to dinner instead is still on the table,” she offers Ruth, but she’s already moving them to follow David and Patrick, so Ruth knows it’s a joke.
There’s an uncharacteristic bounce in Stevie’s step, so Ruth thinks even if skating turns out to be a disaster, she still made the right choice.
An hour later, once they’re all skated out and after Ruth and Stevie say their goodbyes, Stevie leans into Ruth’s side and whispers, “Thank you,” in her ear. Ruth isn’t sure if it’s because she orchestrated the skating outing and subsequent witnessing of David’s best Bambi on-ice impression or if it’s for the night in general.
She’ll ask Stevie to confirm which later.
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It’s snowing when Stevie wakes the following day. She’s not really into sentimentality, but even she can admit that the city looks like a snowglobe when she peaks out the window in Ruth’s bedroom.
Stevie can smell the aroma of coffee drifting in from the kitchen, indicating where she can find Ruth.
She’s a late sleeper, and Ruth’s an early riser. It took some getting used at first, but they figured it out, and Ruth’s gotten really adept at not waking Stevie up by accident.
“Good morning,” Ruth greets her when she steps through the doorway, still rubbing at her eyes and yawning comically.
“You made coffee?” Stevie asks, settling onto one of the island barstools. “And breakfast?” she asks when she registers that Ruth has set a plate in front of her. There are festive green pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon.
“The pancakes are a Christmas tradition in my family,” Ruth tells her. “But don’t worry, they don’t taste weird or anything. It’s just food coloring.” Stevie notices there’s already a plate in front of Ruth, and she smiles to herself, knowing that Ruth waited to have breakfast until she woke up.
Stevie picks up her silverware and cuts a piece, popping it into her mouth. “It tastes great,” she assures around the mouthful, making Ruth laugh exasperatedly at her bad manners. “If I get food poisoning, I’ll blame it on the deli food from last night.”
“Oh my god,” Ruth exclaims with a laugh before she turns around to make Stevie a cup of coffee. Stevie pushes down on the weird bubbly feeling she gets at the gesture; it’s been six months, but she’s still not used to Ruth knowing the little details, like how she takes her coffee in the morning.
“Any other Christmas traditions for today?” Stevie asks around another mouthful.
“No, but I thought that maybe we could visit Central Park before it stops snowing?” Ruth replies, setting the mug down for Stevie. “We haven’t been there yet.”
“Sure,” Stevie says.
It’s still snowing when they arrive at Central Park, and it reminds Stevie more of a snowglobe than the view outside of Ruth’s window did. She loves it, surprisingly. She didn’t think she would, since it’s just a park, but there’s something about it that makes it special.
“No carriage ride, though,” Stevie says, eyeballing a carriage as it moves past them. “I’m sure it’s like, really romantic, but I kind of have this horse thing,” she explains sheepishly because they haven’t gone over irrational fears.
“I wasn’t planning that,” Ruth assures. “I just thought we could walk to Gapstow Bridge.”
Stevie lets out a little squeak when they reach the bridge.
“Oh my god!” she exclaims, looking at Ruth wide-eyed. “This is from the Home Alone movie. I used to watch both of them every Christmas when I was little!” She leans over the edge and looks down at the pond. “Did somebody tell you that?” Stevie knows she’s mentioned it to David, who had a truly expected amount of judgment about it.
Ruth shakes her head, looking surprised. “No, nobody told me that,” she replies, leaning next to Stevie. “But I used to watch them too, and I try to visit the bridge every year.”
“No way,” Stevie exhales. “Like, can you imagine that we might have been watching the same movie at the same time?” A laugh of disbelief bubbles up into her throat. “That’s almost too weird.” She admits, then smiles when Ruth brushes a snowflake off her cheek.
“Kismet,” Ruth murmurs. “It has to be kismet.”
Stevie’s not entirely sure what kismet means, but she has to agree.
“You didn’t try to get lost in New York on purpose, did you?” Stevie asks.
“Oh no, never. I was too worried about what my parents would do if I tried,” Ruth answers, but her smile has gone mischievous. “I used to dream about what it would be like, though.”
“I definitely would have tried,” Stevie admitted. “Like, there was a year I tried to run away, but I only got to the end of the driveway, so I don’t think I would have gotten that far… but I definitely would have tried.”
Ruth laughs and wraps an arm around Stevie, drawing her in close.
“I could see that.”
They stay on the bridge for a few more minutes. Stevie takes a picture to send to David, who probably won’t care about the significance, but she doesn’t care.
“Want to visit the Christmas market?” Ruth asks, and Stevie nods in reply.
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“That was nice,” Ruth says as she closes the door on their last guest. She and Stevie hosted a dinner for their small group of friends. Nothing really special, but they wanted to do something just for them since they'll all be busy tomorrow.
“You’re only saying that because you beat Patrick at Trivial Pursuit,” Stevie replies, fond exasperation evident in her tone of voice. “I hope you enjoy that win too because we’ll probably never play again.”
Ruth feigns shock, then smoothly reaches up on the top of the fridge and retrieves the small box that she had stashed up there. They’ll open most of their gifts tomorrow with her family, but she wanted to give this one to Stevie when it was just the two of them.
“Patrick might want a rematch,” She replies as she sets the box in front of Stevie, whose mouth has formed a surprised ‘o’.
“What’s this?” Stevie asks, her natural skepticism creeping in. Ruth’s not offended.
“Open it,” Ruth tells her, making a gesture at the box. Her heart is in her throat. She had asked for David’s opinion on the gift since he knows Stevie best, and he had seemed certain that Stevie would like it, but Ruth still has butterflies.
It doesn’t help that Stevie turns the box around in her hand, eyebrows drawn together like she could divine what’s inside without removing the wrapping.
“Stevie,” Ruth says.
“Don’t rush me,” Stevie replies as she makes a careful tear in the wrapping, revealing the small white gift box beneath. When Stevie removes the cover and reveals the key lying inside, resting on a bed of tissue paper, Ruth can hear her heartbeat in her ears.
“What’s this?” Stevie asks, eyebrows still drawn —in confusion, not suspicion— when she looks up at Ruth.
“It’s a key to my apartment,” Ruth explains, resting her hands on the island to keep them from shaking. “I wanted you to have it, but I didn’t want to give it to you tomorrow, in front of my family.”
Stevie’s quiet for a minute, making Ruth wonder if maybe she did make the wrong choice.
“I love you,” Stevie finally says quietly. “I love you,” she tells Ruth again, louder and more sure.
Ruth’s surprised into stillness. They’ve been dating for six months; it’s not the first time either has said those words, but something about this time feels different. Like they’ve stepped over some threshold that neither knew was there, but they had been standing right in front of for a while.
“I love you too,” Ruth responds. “You like it?”
Stevie kisses her, and it’s enough of an answer without any words.
“I didn’t get you anything,” Stevie admits against Ruth’s mouth once they take a breath. “Or, I mean, I did. But nothing with that much significance. You took me all around New York, showed me all your favorite things, and then you give me a key, and I,” she stops, taking in a breath. Ruth is suddenly concerned that she might be panicking. “I only got you those suspenders you really wanted,” Stevie blurts in one quick breath, eyes wide.
“Babe,” Ruth begins, skating right by the gift admission. She’ll act surprised tomorrow, despite Stevie telling her. “Having you here has been more than enough. Showing you around my city has been more than enough. I just thought you might want a key, so when you’re in the city, and I’m not, you can stay here and not in a hotel.” Ruth finishes, reaching up to smooth the crease threatening to form between Stevie’s eyebrows again.
“You told me how much you hated the Radisson by JFK,” Ruth continues, rubbing her other hand down Stevie’s arm in a calming gesture.
“I did,” Stevie admits, taking a long, slow breath. “But still-”
“You can stay here instead of the Radisson,” Ruth interrupts. “Where you know how to use the coffee maker, and the shampoo won’t smell like coconut.” Ruth smiles. “And maybe, on the off chance that we’re here at the same time, you can see me.”
Stevie lets out another breath and returns Ruth’s smile.
“Is this a fancy way for you to say you want me to visit more often?” she asks.
“No,” Ruth replies. “But there is still a lot of the city for you to see. I didn’t show you everything.”
“I still want to see Time’s Square,” Stevie admits, kissing her again.
“It’s just billboards and advertisements and people dressed as Elmo,” Ruth points out, teasing.
Stevie laughs against her lips. “Maybe I want to see Elmo,” she argues.
Ruth doesn’t think she actually does. “Fine,” she relents, kissing Stevie again before she steps away to begin gathering the dishes. “But I’m not taking any pictures of you with Elmo.”
Stevie makes a face, but she’s closing the box up and putting it safely in her bag, so Ruth isn’t worried. She’ll need to send David a thank you for his help.
“Do you think your family will like me?” Stevie asks, changing the subject.
Ruth stops to offer a reassuring smile. “I’ve told them enough about you that most of them feel like they already know you,” Ruth admits. “You have nothing to worry about.”
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Standing at the bottom of the stairs to her parents’ brownstone the next day, Ruth thinks maybe her family was the most important thing she wanted to show Stevie for Christmas.
“Too late to run,” she teases with a squeeze of her hand, trying to calm the nerves that are coming off of Stevie in waves.
“Wouldn’t think of it,” Stevie responds, squeezing back.
Neither gets to say anything else before Ruth’s mother throws the door open and motions for them to hurry up the stairs. Ruth doesn’t think they needed to say anything, though.
She smiles to herself and thinks she’ll remember this Christmas for a long time.