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“Silent night,
Holy night,
All is calm,
All is bright.”
Things weren’t exactly bright for Marianne.
She was never big on Christmas. In fact, despite being a Catholic, she lost the habit of celebrating the holiday over the years. She always had the same excuse: “the sea keeps me too busy to celebrate.”
But she no longer had that excuse.
She had become domestic. Domestic… Eugh. That word had a foreign and unpleasant taste on her tongue. It was humbling, almost embarrassing to think about how she had become nothing more than a villager. Her little wooden house on the coast was all that she had left.
The house… And Gómez. Oh, Gómez.
Her stupid excuse for not celebrating Christmas had been flung out of the window the moment Gómez moved in with her. Sometimes, she’d think that her crew’s mutiny was the worst thing to possibly happen to her, because it put her here. It made her soft. It made her complacent. Even though Gómez technically wasn’t doing any harm, not anymore, it still angered her. It angered her that she could no longer add bricks to her crumbling walls, because Gómez kept getting in the way.
Especially today. The 24th of December.
In her family, it was tradition to give each other presents on Christmas Eve, but only open them past midnight. For Gómez it wasn’t this way, but he said he was willing to do that this year, so long as they don’t skip Midnight Mass. Of course, you could never get between Gómez and Mass.
Marianne would’ve never guessed that Gómez was an avid Christmas fan. He appreciated the religious side of it much more than the idea of giving and receiving gifts, but still. It was interest. An interest that she never really had.
And this really, really threw her off.
“I’m home.” Gómez announced as he entered through the front door. It was still daytime outside, and despite it being December, it wasn’t entirely unbearable. It had been the warmest winter in a while, but this didn’t change much seeing as how in the south of Portugal it never snows. However, Gómez still had a coat on him. A shabby one that Marianne had mended many times. He didn’t take it off as he peeked into the kitchen to find Marianne slicing some bread.
“All the fish sold today. Christmas dinners are quite a big deal, it seems.” He said with a playful tone, failing to get much of a reaction out of her. She glanced back at him over her shoulder, smiled politely and turned back to look at the bread as she sliced it.
“That’s really good. Great job.”
He hummed and watched her for a short moment before clearing his throat, his tone slightly softer.
“I forgot to say it this morning, but… Merry Christmas.”
“It’s Christmas Eve,” she corrected.
“I know. But still.”
Marianne put her bread knife down and turned around to speak, but she held her tongue as she saw Gómez already heading towards the front door.
“I’m going to get some stuff for dinner.”
With that, he was gone and headed towards the market.
Marianne was not born yesterday. She knew he was plotting something — and she could already guess that “getting some stuff for dinner” was Gómez-code for “I will get you a gift” — but this idea made her uneasy. How the hell would she reciprocate this action?! It’s not like she knew what Gómez liked. The two had co-habited for 6 months, they had known each other for over 15 years, and yet she still didn’t know what he’d like as a gift.
For the first few minutes after he left home, she paced around the living room and prayed to every saint out there that Gómez wouldn’t get her a gift. Then, after realising she may not get anywhere with this (and that it was inevitable that he’d bring her a gift), she got dressed and headed out, sneaking through the marketplace to not get spotted by him.
Her first target was a little wooden stall by the fountain that sold weapons. Small things like knives, daggers, some old pistols, among other miscellaneous things. However, she could not find anything that she could afford. So she tried a cheaper store, this time a clothing store, but none of the clothes were his style.
It was stall after stall that she looked through, coming out with absolutely nothing bought, every time. At least until she spotted Gómez not too far off by the butcher’s stall, buying some meat for dinner. She took that as her cue to go home.
No gifts for Gómez this year. She could only live with that if it was the case for her too.
That evening, Gómez returned to a cleaner house, the fire lit and wine bottles on the table. He smirked, setting the groceries down in the kitchen and joining Marianne on the sofa, where she sat, looking out of the window that showed their backyard.
She glanced at him, and feigning innocence, asked: “So, what did you buy?”
“Oh, you know…” He shrugged, “Turkey, some potatoes, some carrots, tomatoes for the stew… Ah, and some fruits for dessert.”
“Good. That’s all?”
“…Yes, that’s all.”
She sighed in relief, a small smile breaking out on her face, which had Gómez raising an eyebrow.
“Alright. I’m relieved because I wanted to get you something. You know, for Christmas.”
He was silent as she kept talking, watching as her thumbs twisted and twiddled around each other, her hands nestled on her lap.
“I know you take the holiday more seriously than me. I wanted to get you a gift but I found nothing at the market you’d like. I’m just glad you didn’t bring me anything, because then I’d feel bad for not giving you gifts in return.”
Gómez looked at her and thought about what to say before speaking, in a quieter tone, while gently laying a hand over hers. This caused her to stop fidgeting.
“I had the same problem. I couldn’t find anything either. Nothing to match your tastes.”
She looked at him, a little surprised to hear this. Their eyes met and he immediately looked off to the side, shrugging and withdrawing his hand.
“But whatever. It’s not like that’s what matters. We’ll just… Eat dinner and then go to Mass at midnight.”
The only sound that was heard during the following ten seconds was the crackling of the hearth inside the fireplace.
“This is our first Christmas together.” Marianne let the words slip out, almost to herself.
“It is indeed,” Gómez agreed, looking at the fireplace ahead of him. Then, with slight hesitance, he spoke again. “Maybe… Maybe the first of many more.”
“…That would be nice.”
A sigh from him.
“Yeah.”
That night, stumbling sleepily back home after Mass, she linked her arm with his as they walked along the beaten path to the beach. She looked up at his tired (yet happy) face and thought about how the best gift he could give was simply being present.
Ah, if her past crewmates could see her now, they’d throw her overboard.
