Archive of Our Own

One

The first time, she had no way of knowing it would become a tradition. 

She shows up at Aaron’s apartment, a bag full of gifts slung over her shoulder and a bottle of wine in hand, and she hesitates on the doorstep. She’d spent a lot of time with Aaron and Jack lately, had helped them pick up the broken pieces of their lives in the aftermath of Haley’s death, but every time she came here, she doubted herself, wondered if she was inserting herself somewhere where she didn’t belong. She raises her hand to knock on the door, and her hand freezes partway there, hanging in the chilly winter air as she once again questions if she should be here. 

The door opens before she can knock, and she smiles shyly when Aaron opens the door, his eyebrow raised as he steps back to let her in. 

“I could practically hear you thinking through the door.” 

She chuckles as she walks past him, pressing the bottle of wine into his hands, “I wasn’t sure if I’d be intruding.” 

He furrows his brow as he closes the door behind her, making sure he clicks the locks into place, “I don’t know if you know this, Emily, but if someone invites you over, you can’t possibly intrude.” 

She presses her lips together to suppress her smile, unsure when he started having this power over her, when a simple raise of his eyebrow started making her stomach flip like she was a teenage girl, “It’s Christmas Eve, it’s the time for family.” 

“Emily!” 

She has a second to hand over the bag of gifts before Jack launches himself at her, a blur of strawberry scented shampoo and Christmas pjyamas. She holds him close and kisses the top of his head, making sure she’s smiling when he pulls back to look at her. 

“Hi, Jack,” she says, tickling his belly, delighting in the laugh she draws out of him, “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” 

“Daddy said I could wait for you,” he leans in and tries to whisper, but his voice ends up louder than usual, “You’re better at the bedtime stories.” 

She chuckles and looks over at Aaron, and he nods, looking at them in a way she refuses to name, and she turns her attention back to the little boy in her arms.

“In that case, we should get you to bed,” she says, adjusting her hold on him. “Otherwise, Santa won’t come,” she jokes, and Jack gasps, “Why don’t you say goodnight to Daddy?” She suggests, passing him over and taking the bag and the wine from Aaron as if it was a transaction they carried out every day, “And then I’ll read you a story.”

She tries not to listen as she gives father and son a few moments to themselves. She puts the gifts and the wine on the kitchen counter. She finds herself drawn to Aaron and Jack despite her desire to give them some privacy. She watches as they talk to each other and smile, an edge of sadness to all of it, a tinge of it in the air, sparkling like the lights on the small tree she’d helped them decorate. Jack’s first Christmas without his mother. One of many firsts to come, each one as heartbreaking as the last. 

She knows thats part of why she’s here. Ever since Haley’s death, she’d been helping Aaron and Jack, had offered up her love and care in endless amounts because it was what she wanted to do. She bought Jack his suit for the funeral to take something off Aaron’s plate; she disposed of the funeral flowers once they started to die. She did whatever she could to make it all a little easier for them both, while trying to ignore just how much she’d fallen in love with them. 

There were moments, fleeting and cruel, when she could imagine having this - them - properly. When the happiness they’d experience between bouts of grief would make her forget everything else, leaving her half convinced this was something she could have. 

That it is was something she deserves. 

“Emily?” 

She snaps out of it when she feels a tiny hand wrap around hers, and she makes sure she’s smiling when she looks down at Jack, now standing next to her, and she squeezes his hand, “Ready?” 

He nods, and she looks over at Aaron, sees that look in his eyes again, and she leads Jack to his bedroom. She tucks him in and hands him a stuffed bear that he’d had since he was a baby, its fur already patchy, and seams pulled back together, thread that Haley must have lovingly sewn through it under the little boy’s watchful eye, still here even though she wasn’t. She picks up his favourite book from the nightstand and slips onto the bed, snuggling up against him on top of his sheets. She reads, smiling when she feels his chuckle at the voices she exaggerates vibrate from his chest to hers, and she only stops when she feels him get heavier against her side. She kisses the top of his head and slips out from under him, careful to make sure she doesn’t disturb him. 

She steps out into the hallway and walks straight into Aaron. She almost trips over, but he puts his hands on her hips to steady her, and she fails to cover a gasp. 

“Sorry,” she says, clearing her throat as he steps back, her lips pressed together as she watches an embarrassed flush cross his skin. 

“My fault,” he says, “I wanted to make sure he’s okay.”

“Fast asleep,” she says, “I think he’ll have you up early in the morning.”

He chuckles, and they start to walk towards the living room, “I think he’d do that even if he went to bed at midnight.” 

She hums as she sits on the couch, unsurprised to find two glasses of wine on the coffee table, “It must be nice though,” she says, watching him carefully as he sits next to her, “Kids keep the magic alive this time of year.” 

He nods and smiles, and edge of sadness to it that she knows will linger for a long time, possibly forever, and she’d do anything if it meant he didn’t have to carry it with him, “It is nice, it’s just…harder this year,” he says, blowing out a slow breath, “He’s doing better than I am I think.” 

She finds herself reaching out to touch his arm before she can think about it, squeezing gently to draw his attention towards her, “You’re doing a good job, Aaron.”

He shrugs, “If it wasn’t for him, I don’t think I’d have even put up the tree.” 

She presses her lips together, wishing there was something she could say or do to make him see what she could, but she knew that it would take time for him to believe it. Her eyes drift over to the bag of gifts she’d brought over, and she changes tack, standing up to grab the bag and riffle through it until she finds a small gift right at the bottom. 

“Speaking of the tree,” she says, hoping her smile covers the slight shake in her voice, suddenly nervous that she might be overstepping, “I got you this,” she says, handing it over, “Well, it’s for Jack really, but I think it might be nice if it’s on the tree in the morning.” 

He furrows his brow curiously as he takes it from her, “You really didn’t have to get us anything, you know.” 

She rolls her eyes at him, “Just open it.”

He does as he’s told, unwrapping it so carefully, slipping his fingers under the tape, that it warms her from the inside out. It was so him, so focused, that she finds herself falling even more in love with him. She watches intently as he pulls a round hanging decoration out from the paper, his smile wide and eyes shining as he runs a finger over the picture of him, Haley and Jack looking back up at him.  

“Em…” he says, and she doesn’t know if he’s calling a nickname he never has before, or if he’s choked up, or both, but when he looks up at her, his eyes are shining, deep pools of dark honey she’d happily drown in. 

“I thought it might be nice for him to have something to hang on the tree that reminds him she’s always here,” she says, “That she’s always part of this.” 

He nods, and then he hugs her, drawing her against his chest in a way she thinks surprises him as much as it surprises her. It’s brief, too brief, and she presses her lips together to trap a disappointed sigh when he pulls back. 

“Thank you,” he says, looking down at the picture again, remembering a simpler time before his life was torn apart in ways he could never have imagined. “Where did you get the photo?” 

She hums and shrugs nonchalantly, “I have my ways.”

He chuckles and raises his eyebrow as he looks back up at her, “Garcia?” 

She shrugs again, her smile wide as he stands up and walks over to the tree, placing the decoration on a branch. He stands and looks at it for a moment before he turns to her, his smile soft before he clears his throat, “Jack and I made some cookies earlier if you’d like some.” 

She gasps, fake outrage flitting across her face, “And you’re only just offering them to me now?” 

They eat cookies and drink wine, and watch a Christmas movie she hadn’t seen in years, and the familiar feeling that she might just be able to have this creeps back in. 

___

Two

If anyone else had asked her to go to the mall, she would have said no. She still felt uneasy in crowds, and malls had given her the creeps since the Katie Jacobs case, but as soon as Jack asked if she’d help him buy Aaron’s Christmas present, she knew she was a goner. Aaron had tried to talk Jack out of it at first. He knew she was struggling, that she was putting on a show for everyone except him, but she’d simply shaken her head, told him that she was fine even though she wasn’t sure she was. 

She had to get back to some kind of normal, had to feel more like herself again, and not one of the many women she’d lived under the name of in Paris. So she goes to their appointment and picks up Jack, she refuses the money that Aaron tries to give her with a simple shake of her head and a raise of her eyebrow, and she takes the 6-year-old to the mall. She makes him hold her hand the entire time - something that takes very little effort to convince him of - and she feels more relaxed than she thought she would. 

“Okay, kiddo,” she says, squeezing his hand as she looks down at him, “What do you want to get Daddy for Christmas?” 

He furrows his brow, something that makes him look exactly like Aaron, and thinks for a few seconds, “I don’t know.” 

She makes sure they aren’t in the way of anyone before she crouches down to his level, “Why don’t you tell me some things you like about him, and we’ll go from there.” 

He nods, “He’s good at fixing my toys when I break them,” he says, furrowing his brow again, “And he always smells nice.”

She smiles, stopping herself from agreeing with the little boy, and she looks around, spotting a perfume store. “Why don’t we get him some cologne then?” She suggests, “I know which one he uses.” 

It’s only after she’s said it that she wishes she hadn’t, hoping it didn’t create any follow-up questions. How could she explain to a little boy that his dad had become a place of solace for her, that their promise to work towards something had started in the dark in his hotel room after a case a few weeks ago? She’d woken up from a nightmare, her hand flying to her now healed abdomen as it burned where she’d been torn open, and she’d found herself walking to Aaron’s room without thinking. He’d let her in, half asleep at first, but wide awake the moment he saw her. He looked after her, held her close as she struggled to bring herself back to reality, and told her to stay when she came back to herself. 

The next morning, after they’d slept together for the first time in the very literal sense, she’d walked into his bathroom and was briefly distracted from nature calling by the way he’d lined up all his toiletries neatly on the side. His cologne bottle tucked between his shaving kit and aftershave. 

It was something just for them for now, something they needed to discuss and figure out the details of, but for the first time in a long time, she felt the sharp sting of hope for a future she thought she’d never have. 

Jack, mercifully, doesn’t ask any questions, and he simply nods, “Yes lets get that. Then we can have a pretzel?” 

She chuckles and stands back up straight, “We’ll get pretzels, don’t worry, honey.” 

She buys the biggest bottle of his cologne that there is, and declines the gift wrapping, promising Jack that she’ll help him do that too. They head to the food court, and she buys them pretzels and hot chocolate, and they find a table tucked away in a corner, giving them as much privacy as was possible in a busy mall in December. 

Emily watches as Jack eats and drinks, careful to blow on his hot chocolate before every sip, and she notices how he keeps looking at her from his seat next to her, with undeniable sadness in his eyes. “Are you okay, Jack?” 

He sighs, and he thinks for a few moments, choosing his words so carefully that it makes her ache, “I missed you when you were gone, Emily,” 

She sucks in a slow breath and feels it rattle around in her chest, and he shuffles closer to her, half on her seat and half on his, as if he was worried she’d disappear. “I missed you, too.” 

“You didn’t die for real, so you didn’t see Mommy in heaven,” he says, and he’s so matter of fact that it makes her heart ache, tears forming along the seams of it that she’d only just started to sew back together. 

She can picture Aaron sitting him down and telling him in the clearest terms that he could when she came from Paris that she was alive. A little boy’s understanding of death confused by her actions, another consequence she couldn’t have anticipated coming back when she was with Ian, when she laid the path she was currently struggling to walk. 

“No,” she replies, looking around them, wishing they were having his conversation anywhere other than a mall’s food court, “I didn’t.” 

He hums and looks at his hot chocolate, “I wish Mommy didn’t die for real.” 

She reaches out and runs her fingers through his hair, forcing a smile she hopes is reassuring when he looks up at her, “Me too, honey.”

He slips into her lap, and she can’t help but think of how small he is still, but how much bigger than the last time Haley saw him. She pulls his hot chocolate closer so he can still reach it, and he wraps his hands around the takeaway cup, following the green and red patterns with his fingers. 

“Mommy liked hot chocolate too,” he says, tilting his head, his smile spreading across his face as he thinks of something he doesn’t say out loud, “She always had extra marshmallows.” 

Emily considers going to the gourmet candy store on the other side of the mall and buying all the marshmallows they have so she can give Jack something that feels a little like his mom, but then she has a better idea, remembering the temporary store they’d walked past, a lot that was empty until this time of year. She thinks of the decoration she’d bought him last year, how he’d mentioned it again and again ever since, talking about it long after it had been carefully packed away and placed with the other ornaments in storage. 

When she’d gone to Aaron and Jack’s apartment for the first time after the tree went up this year, she saw the photo decoration front and centre, and Aaron told her that Jack had been very particular about where it was supposed to go. 

“How about, we go to the decoration store we saw?” she suggests, running her fingers through his hair again. “And find something that reminds you of Mommy so you can put it on the tree at home?”

His face lights up, “Like the one you got last year?” 

“Exactly,” she says, “They have so many different things. We can spend as much time as you want there until we find the perfect one.” 

He nods enthusiastically and clambours out of her lap, making her laugh as he picks up both their hot chocolates and hands her hers before she even gets up, “Come on, Emily, let’s go!”

Jack, although briefly distracted by the lights and the undeniable Christmas magic in the decoration store, gets to work on finding the perfect decoration. He settles on a hanging decoration made of felt. It’s a mug of hot chocolate with a smile stitched onto its side, with tiny little marshmallows on the top of it. As soon as she’s bought it, he wants to go home, excited to show Aaron the latest addition to their tree. 

He runs at Aaron the second they are in the apartment, decoration in hand because he hadn’t let go of it for a second, “Daddy, look what Emily got me.”

Aaron hauls Jack onto his hip, smiling as he looks at the red felt in his hands. “That was nice of her,” he says, looking over at Emily and smiling before returning his attention to his son. “Did you say thank you?”

Jack nods, “She said it can help remind me of Mommy,” he says, climbing down from Aaron’s grasp and walking towards the tree, so focused on finding the perfect spot that he doesn’t realise how the two adults in the room are staring at each other, “She said we can do this every year if I want.” 

Emily feels warmth in her cheeks that has nothing to do with the contrast between the temperature in the apartment and outside, and Aaron smiles at her, looking at her in a way she no longer has to question. 

“Every year sounds great, buddy.”

___

Three

The decorations somehow seem to get more meaningful the first year they are on the tree she, Aaron and Jack picked out together, proudly displayed in the living room of their new house. 

Everyone thought they were crazy for moving just before Christmas, but she wanted to experience their first Christmas there as soon as possible, not put it off for almost an entire year to avoid a few weeks of stress. It was all worth it - including the tears Aaron swore he’d never tell anyone about - as she sat on the couch and watched Aaron and Jack decorate the tree, happy to observe the tradition.

Jack looks back at her as he hangs the felt hot chocolate on a branch, “Does it look okay?” 

She nods, “It looks perfect, baby.” 

He rolls his eyes, “I’m not the baby,” he says, pointing at her bump, “She’s the baby.”

Aaron gives her a look over the top of his 8-year-old son’s head, a look that she knows means he never had this attitude before you, and she playfully narrows her eyes at him.

“Right,” she says, looking at Jack again, “Sorry.” 

The baby was another reason she’d wanted to move into the house as soon as possible. She was due at the end of January, but she wanted to be prepared in case their little girl decided to make an early appearance, something that the doctors were concerned could be a very real possibility. 

There were moments when she still couldn’t quite believe that this was her life, that she’d pushed through all the hard stuff, that she’d stayed afloat despite the riptides that had tried to pull her under, and she’d made it to this. A husband she loved more than she ever could have expected, who loved her back just as much. A little boy she loved as her own, and a little girl on the way. It felt like a happy ending, like the final scene in a movie where everything was all wrapped up, everything that happens afterwards left to the imagination of the viewer, but it was real, and it was her life. 

And it was only just beginning. 

“Did you show Dad the new decoration we got?” She asks, and Jack’s eyes light up as he shakes his head. 

“No,” he says, “I’ll go get it.” he bounds out of the room and up the stairs to his room, where he’d taken it, the small glass decoration nestled in amongst the gifts they’d bought Aaron on their now annual trip to the mall. 

Emily smiles as she watches him go, and she looks over at Aaron, “He actually knew what he wanted to get this year before we went,” she says, groaning as she tries to get comfortable, “My giant swollen feet and I were grateful for it.” 

Aaron chuckles and walks over, joining her on the couchand encouraging her to swing her legs onto his lap. “He told me he had fun.” 

He’d always respected that it was her and Jack’s tradition, never inserting himself into it. This was the third year she’d taken Jack to the decoration store, the second time it was planned. It was nice, a way of connecting him to his mom while also strengthening the bond between her and Jack. 

She groans as he starts to massage her foot, his thumb pressed into the ball of it, “Me too,” she says, smiling as she feels the baby roll in her belly, “I’ll have to think of something to do at Christmas that’s just for me and this one.” 

He hums and continues to massage her feet, “I was thinking about it earlier, you and Jack can go to the store next year, and while you do, Little Miss Hotchner and I can stay here and make sure the tree is up and ready to be decorated.” 

She chuckles, loving the idea of coming home to him and their daughter, “And she can learn some interesting words while Daddy untangles the lights.” 

He narrows his eyes playfully at her, “We both know who the culprit will be if her first word is a curse word.” 

“Dave.” 

“Dave.” 

They say in unison, and her cheeks hurt from smiling so widely, a type of happiness she once thought was beyond her. Jack comes running back into the room, purposely sliding on the hardwood floor with his socks before he hands Aaron a small, tissue-wrapped package. 

“Here you go, Dad,” Jack says, and Aaron takes it from him and throws Emily a look as he unwraps it, smiling softly as he pulls outa small glass candle. Emily watches the father and son together, and while there was still some sadness, while their unfathomable loss was still wrapped around everything this time of year like an unbreakable ribbon, there was joy too. Honest, defiant joy that honoured Haley’s life just as much as the ever growing number of decorations they bought for the tree. “It’s just like the candle I used to use to talk to Mommy.” 

He still had the candle in his room, but he’d stopped lighting it a few months ago. When they asked him why, he said he didn’t need to do it to talk to her anymore, that he could talk to her no matter where he was. 

“It’s lovely, Jack,” Aaron says, passing it back to him, “Why don’t you find somewhere for it on the tree?” 

Jack nods and takes it back from him, and walks over to the tree, his brow furrowed as he looks for the perfect spot. Aaron watches him for a moment before Emily clears her throat, wiggling her feet on his lap, and he looks at her, chuckling when she nods towards her feet before he starts to massage them again. 

As Jack asks about Christmas cookies, Emily thinks that this might end up being her favourite Christmas yet.

___

Four

“I want to come!” 

Emily sighs and raises her eyebrow at the toddler in front of her, the four-year-old oddly adorable in her defiance as she crosses her arms over her chest. 

“Mae, honey,” she says, crouching down to look at her, “You need to stay here with Daddy, okay? You can help him with your sister while Jack and I go out for a couple of hours.” 

Mae huffs, her lower lip trembling as she pouts, “But Mommy-”

“No buts,” Emily says, tucking some of the little girl’s hair behind her ear, “This is just something me and Jack do, just like you and me go and pick out the pjyamas every year.”

She never thought she’d be a matching Christmas pjyamas kind of person, but she’d been drawn in when Mae was a baby, the idea of onesie matching pjyamas the rest of them were wearing too much to resist. It had turned into something she and Mae did together, entirely accidentally, since Mae had been fast asleep against her chest the first time, but it felt like something she could equate to the tradition she had with Jack.  

Mae sighs, but she nods, sniffing as she pushes her lower lip out even further, “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” she hums and stands up straight, guiding Mae towards the living room where Aaron was sorting out the decorations for later, half of his attention on their youngest in the corner, distracted by her toys. Lucy was 16 months old and had completed their family, filling a gap Emily hadn’t realised was there until she was holding a positive pregnancy test, “But, we’ll be back before you know it. And you can help Daddy with Lucy.” 

Mae nods, “Okay, Mommy.” 

She hears Jack walk into the room, already ready in his coat and scarf, “Ready?” 

Emily nods, and she leans down to kiss Mae’s head, “See you later, baby,” she says before she walks over to Lucy, crouching down to kiss her too, chasing her youngest's giggle to kiss her again, and then she walks over to Aaron. She kisses him and smiles as she pulls back, “I’ll text when we’re on our way home.” 

He nods and stamps his lips against hers, smirking when Jack groans from the doorway, “I’ll make sure the hot chocolates are ready and waiting.”

She winks at him and heads out of the living room. She grabs the car keys, and she and Jack head outside. He’s quieter than he usually is, but she knows what he’s like, that he’s like his father in the way he needs to get his head around things before he tries to talk about them. They spend most of the journey to the mall in silence, the only sound the Christmas music she’d lined up for the trip. 

“Mae could have come too, if she wanted to,” he says eventually, and when she casts a glance in the rearview mirror, he’s looking out the window. “I wouldn’t mind.” 

She sighs, realising that he must have heard Mae’s insistence that she join them, “I know you wouldn’t, honey,” she says, “But this has always been for you and me,” she says as she pulls into a parking space, “And it always will be.” 

He smiles at her, insecurity sparkling in his eyes as she turns off the engine and turns back to look at him, “Really?” 

She nods, “Really.” 

He beams, all the insecurity melting away, and he unclips his seatbelt, “Are you ready?” 

“I am, do you know what you want to get this year?” 

For the first time in as long as she can remember, he shrugs, “I’ll figure it out when we get there.” 

She doesn’t pry, doesn’t pick at a wound she knew would never truly heal. As he got older, as he got further away from the time he’d had with Haley, he struggled more and more with the memories he had of her. Everything he knew about her were things other people had told him, stories he’d heard on repeat from his dad, grandfather and Jess. Emily had asked for stories about her too, had listened intently as Jess regaled her with moments from their childhood, or Aaron told her about something that happened in college, so she could tell him things too if he ever asked. 

“Well,” she says, as she unclips her seat belt too, “Thankfully they always have plenty to look through.” 

He nods, and they get out of the car, screwing his face up as they walk towards the mall, “You’re not going to make me hold your hand, are you?” 

She laughs because he says it as if he can’t think of anything worse, although she supposes, for a 12-year-old, there were few things worse than being seen holding hands with one of your parents out in public. 

“No,” she assures him, “But stay close, okay?” 

They make their way to the Christmas store, and both of them smile and greet the owner, a woman called Margaret, who has been there as long as they’ve been going. The first year, she mistook them for mother and son, something Jack had corrected in the way only a kid could, unflinchingly honest and unaware of the awkwardness it had created. Ever since, she’d remembered them, had seen them come in year after year and watched as their family grew. Emily stands back as Jack wanders around the store, giving him space to make the decision himself, always ready and waiting to help if he needs it. 

Eventually, he walks over with a candy cane ornament, sparkling twists of red and white glass, and he smiles tightly as he hands it to her, “I think I’ll go for this one.” 

She smiles and takes it from him, “It’s pretty.”

He hums, “Aunt Jess said she liked candy canes.” 

It’s the first time he hasn’t used a direct memory when they did this, and it makes her suck in a breath, a reaction she immediately tampers down, reminding herself that this was about him, not her. 

“She told me that too,” she says, “You’re sure you want this one?” 

He nods, “I’m sure,” he replies, shoving his hands into his pockets, “We haven’t got one like it,” he says, shrugging, “So it works.” 

“Okay,” she replies, “I’ll get this, and do you want to think about what to get your sisters for Christmas?” 

His eyes light up like they used to when they first started doing this, “I have so many ideas.” 

___

Five

Every year she asks him if he still wants to go, and every year he says yes. It gets harder, his mood and his memories of his mother shifting as he trundles through his teenage years, but they go. Whenever a little boy or girl walks into the store with their parents while they are there, it’s like she’s seeing a shadow of their past, a time that had somehow slipped through her fingers without her realising. 

“Mommy, are you going to the mall with Jack tomorrow?” 

She pauses brushing Lucy’s hair, and she shifts so she’s looking at her, “Yes, we’re going to get his decoration for Haley for the tree.” 

The girls knew about Haley. She was a part of their lives, a part of their family. Her picture was scattered amongst theirs across every wall and surface, brought to life in memories and stories and in photos stuck behind glass. It wasn’t lost on her that both Lucy and Mae were older than Jack had been when he’d lost his mom, and it broke her heart when she thought about it, her lungs stuffed with grief if she even entertained the idea of her little girls losing her.

Lucy hums, “Can you bring me home a pretzel?” 

Emily chuckles and nods, “Of course, sweet girl.” 

“And Mae too,” she says, grimacing when Emily continues to brush her hair, “She likes the cinnamon ones.” 

Emily smiles, “Of course, and you like the…jalapeno ones, right?” She asks, purposely getting it wrong, giggling when Lucy turns to look at her, Aaron’s frown painted across her face. 

“No, the chocolate ones.”

She nods, her lips pressed together as she suppresses a smile and starts to braid her daughter’s hair, “Right, of course. Silly Mommy,” she finishes one braid and starts on the second, “While we’re out, you can help Daddy sort out the decorations.”

Lucy nods, “It’s funny when he gets mad at the lights.” 

Emily laughs and secures a hair tie on Lucy’s second braid, and she leans in to kiss the top of her head, “It’s so funny,” she says, “You’re all done.” 

Lucy jumps up off the bed just long enough to climb under the covers, her favourite toy - a stuffed black cat - already snuggled up in her arms, “Thanks, Mommy.” 

“No problem, baby,” she says, stamping a kiss on her forehead, “Do you need anything else?” She asks, and Lucy shakes her head, “Goodnight, sweet girl. I love you.”

“Love you too.” 

She steps out into the hallway at the same time Aaron steps out of Mae’s. She exchanges a smile with her husband and walks over to him, humming contentedly as she leans against him. She wraps her arms around him and presses her cheek against his cheek. 

“Wine?” He asks, and she nods against him, “Mulled or regular?” 

“Mulled,” she replies, pulling back just enough to look at him, “I’ll meet you down there,” she says, kissing him again, “I’m just going to check on Jack.” 

He smiles and steps away, only letting go of her entirely when he’s far enough away that he can’t touch her anymore. She turns and walks towards Jack’s bedroom, giving herself a moment before she knocks on the door, questioning her judgment on whether this was a good idea or not. She blows out a shaky breath and knocks anyway, waiting until she hears him respond before she walks in.

He’s in his gaming chair, his headphones around his neck and his game paused, and he turns to look at her, “Everything okay?”

She nods, “Yeah,” she replies, “Everything’s fine, I just wanted to check what time you wanted to go tomorrow?” 

The 16-year-old sighs, and he takes his headphones off, placing them on his desk. “About that…” 

“Oh,” she says, clearing her throat as she hears what he hasn’t said, “You don’t want to go.” 

He shrugs, “Not really.” 

She tries to pretend it doesn’t hurt, but she doesn’t do a good job of it, her ability to hide her emotions left somewhere in her past over a decade ago when she finally started to allow herself to be happy. “That’s okay.”

He sighs and rolls his eyes, furious in a way only a teenager could be as he scoffs, “It’s stupid anyway,” he complains, “I’m not a little kid anymore. And it’s not like I know anything about her that I haven’t already used to buy a decoration.” 

It falls into place, his sudden reluctance to do this, even though he’d been fine a few days ago, and she smiles sympathetically, stepping towards him, “Honey-

“I don’t want to go,” he shouts, “And you can’t make it, it’s not like you’re my real mom.” 

She sucks in a breath, and she sees regret flash in his eyes the moment he says it, “I know I’m not,” she says, clearing her throat as she steps back, “And if you don’t want to go, you don’t have to, but you can’t speak to me like that.” 

He sighs, “I’m sorry.” 

She nods, “I know you are,” she says, smiling tightly, “We’ll give tomorrow a miss, I’ll still go to the mall, I need to get a few things. Maybe you can help your dad with the lights,” she says, stepping towards the door, “Last thing I need is Lucy going to school in the New Year knowing a new curse word.” 

“Okay,” he replies, “I am sorry.” 

“I know, honey,” she says, stepping out of his room, “Goodnight.” 

“Night.” 

She blows out a slow breath as she closes his bedroom door behind her, and she rubs her temples. When she goes downstairs, she shakes off Aaron’s concerns, says that she’s fine and that she doesn’t need him to talk to Jack for her. 

The next day, she goes to the mall by herself. It’s a little awkward at breakfast, a tinge of it in the air that usually didn’t exist in their house, but they get through it. The journey to the mall feels lonely, and she wanders around it, buying the last things she needs for Christmas. She isn’t sure what draws her towards the decoration store, whether it’s nostalgia or the vague hope it will make her feel better. 

Margaret approaches her the moment she walks in, her sparkling sweater and matching smile brighter than ever.

“Jack not with you this time?” She asks, and Emily fakes a smile as she shakes her head. 

“Not this year,” she replies, “He’s grown out of it, I think.” 

Margaret hums sympathetically, “It’s hard when they grow up, isn’t it?” She says, and Emily nods, “Are you going to pick something out this year?” 

Emily smiles, an idea forming in her head as she looks around, “Do you do custom ornaments?” 

“For my longest-standing customers?” Margaret says, “Of course, what are you thinking?” 

Emily beams at her and describes what she wants. She pays over the odds and then some, shaking her head when Margaret tries to refuse some of the money, and she leaves feeling better than she had all day. It takes a week for the decoration to arrive, and she goes to pick it up on Christmas Eve, breaking her lifelong rule of not going to the mall on the busiest day of the year. 

She waits until the girls are in bed to give it to him. Aaron is in the kitchen, finishing up the preparation for Christmas lunch, and Jack is in the living room, watching a Christmas movie they’ve watched every year since he was small. 

“Can I join you?” She asks, and he turns to look at her, his smile relaxed as he nods. 

“Of course,” he replies, looking back at the TV, “I remember watching this the year we moved in”

Emily chuckles as she sits on the couch, the decoration tucked in her hands, “There were still boxes everywhere.” 

He smiles and looks around, his eyes fixed on the decorated tree, on a lifetime of ornaments that meant different things, spread out amongst generic baubles and sparkling lights. 

“I kind of miss it.” 

She tilts her head and looks at him curiously, “Being a kid?” 

He shrugs, “The magic of it all,” he says, his eyes meeting hers, “Mae and Luce love it so much, and I remember that. I remember thinking Santa was real and the excitement of it all. It’s weird, getting older.” 

She nods and blows out a slow breath, “It is.” 

“Does it get better?” 

She smiles, “It does. One day, if you want to, you’ll fall in love and have kids, and you’ll see it through their eyes,” she says, looking over at the tree, “That brings the magic back.” 

He clears his throat, and she hears it catch, “I’m sorry about last week,” he says, “I didn’t mean…”

“I know you didn’t,” she says, reaching out and placing her hand on his shoulder, “This time of year is hard if you miss someone.” 

“It’s not even that I miss her,” he says, furrowing his brow, “I’m so used to her not being here that I’m used to missing her. I just hate that I don’t remember anything about her,” he shakes his head and blows out a shaky breath, “I didn’t want to stand in that store and not find anything that reminded me of her.” 

She nods and squeezes his shoulder, and she passes over the wrapped ornament, “I went by myself last week,” she says, smiling when he looks up at her, “I spoke to Margaret, and she had this made,” she sits back and watches him start to unwrap it, her heart hammering against her ribcage as he chokes on a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob as he lifts a felt gingerbread man dressed as a pirate, “I don’t know how she did it so fast, I think she might actually be one of Santa’s elves.” 

“It’s a pirate.” 

She hums and nods, “The gingerbread part was all her, I just asked for something pirate themed,” she says, “I guess she had to keep it Christmassy.” 

He runs his thumb over the felt material, passing from the gingerbread man’s face to his pirate hat, “Mom and Dad met when they did Pirates of Penzance at school.” 

She smiles, “More accurately, your Dad saw her rehearsing and decided to join the theatre club so he could talk to her.” She says, and he chuckles, nodding as he remembers the rest of the story. 

“I remember Aunt Jess telling me that,” he says, smiling as he turns to look at her, tears still shining in his eyes, “Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

It wasn’t something he called her often, more like a term that slipped out from time to time, and it never failed to make her breath catch in her chest, “I love you too, and you don’t have to thank me.” 

“I do,” he says, leaning in to hug her, “You’ve always been here. And you do your best to keep her alive. I don’t know if I’ll ever thank you enough for that.” 

She sucks in breath and pulls back, “Come on, hang your decoration on the tree.” 

He nods and smiles at her as he stands up, winking when he hears a floorboard creak out in the hall, “How long do you think Dad has been standing in the hallway waiting for us to finish our heart-to-heart?”

She chuckles as she hears Aaron grumble in the hallway, “Hopefully long enough to have our snacks for the movie ready.” 

Aaron sighs and sticks his head around the doorway, “I’ll be back with the cookies.” 

Jack smiles and sits on the couch, “Luce was in charge of decorating the cookies, by the way,” he says, “So prepare yourself for too many sprinkles.” 

Emily nudges her shoulder against his and smiles, happy that things were back to normal, or as normal as they got around here.

“There is no such thing as too many sprinkles.”

___

+One

Emily didn’t remember when she’d last been so excited.

She knew it was catching, that Aaron and the girls were just as excited as she was, and the car was practically thrumming with it as they drove to Jack’s house. 

“Dad,” Mae grumbles from the back seat, “If you go any slower, it will be time for me to go back to college before we even get to Jack and Holly’s.”

“Yeah,” Lucy grumbles, “We haven’t seen them in forever.” 

The girls had loved Holly from the start. She and Jack had met the first week of college and had been inseparable ever since. She had a difficult relationship with her own family, one that had never got easier over the years, and she’d come home with Jack that first Christmas. She’d thrown herself headfirst into their traditions and had happily let Jack and Emily go decoration shopping just the two of them, despite Emily’s invite, a look in her eyes that told her she already knew about their annual trip. 

It came as no surprise to Emily or Aaron when Jack proposed after he was done with law school, and it was no surprise when Holly said yes. She was a part of their family, another daughter to add to the chaos Emily couldn’t imagine living without. They settled in DC when they got married and bought a house just a 20 minute drive from Emily and Aaron’s, and they came over for dinner once a week. 

Aaron sighs and gives his daughters a look in the rearview mirror, “It’s snowing, and I’m driving the speed limit,” he says, “I’d quite like to make it to meeting my granddaughter in one piece.” 

Lucy rolls her eyes, “She had the baby a week ago,” she says, “I don’t know why we had to wait.” 

Emily turns and looks at her, “One day, if you have a baby, you might understand,” she says, smiling when Lucy scrunches up her nose in disgust at the thought of it, “I didn’t want any visitors when I had you two.” 

“I bet Grandma didn’t like that,” Mae quips, and Emily laughs, turning back so she’s comfortable in her seat. 

“No, she did not.” She says, and the memory of that time makes her shudder. It was why she had been so determined to do whatever Holly and Jack asked of them. As forthright in her desire to do things differently for her children, to be the mother Elizabeth never was, even as they blossomed into adulthood and needed her less. 

“We’re not visitors, though,” Lucy says, “We’re family.” 

“Still,” Emily says, reaching out for Aaron’s hand and squeezing it, throwing him a wink when he casts a glance her way, “They needed time to settle in, so we gave it to them. And now we can meet Nora.” 

She smiles as she says her granddaughter’s name. A name she hadn’t known a week ago but had said countless times since she found out. Another part of their ever-growing family. 

“We’re here,” Aaron announces as he turns off the car's engine, “And look at that,” he says, making a point of looking at his watch, “We made it right on time.” 

Lucy rolls her eyes as they all get out of the car, but she smiles as they approach the house, her arm linked through Mae’s as Aaron knocks on the door. Jack opens it immediately, and he beams at them, accepting the hugs from his excited sisters before they scatter past him, acknowledging his request that they wash their hands before they hold the baby, before they disappear into the house. 

Jack chuckles and shakes his head and looks at his parents, “Hi Dad, Hi Mom.” 

“Hi,” Emily says, tugging him into a hug before Aaron does the same, “How are you? How are Holly and Nora?”

“Good. Tired,” he says, chuckling as they follow him into the house, “I didn’t know it was possible to be this tired,” he says, and they both laugh, remembering those days clearly even though they were so long ago, “Thanks for waiting to come over, we needed some time to get into a routine.” 

“Whatever you guys need,” Emily says, as they walk to the living room. “Were the casseroles okay?” 

He nods, “You could have knocked on and said hi, Mom,” he chuckles, “You didn’t have to leave them on the porch like some kind of casserole bandit.” 

She shakes her head lovingly at him, “I wanted to respect Holly’s boundaries.” 

She pauses in the doorway as she steps into the living room, her breath caught in her throat at the tiny baby in Mae’s arms, Lucy looking over her shoulder, and Holly sitting next to her, her hand twitchy in a way Emily knew all too well.

“Mom,” Mae says as she tears her gaze away from Nora, “She’s so pretty. Most babies look like old men, but she’s cute.” 

Emily chuckles, “Of course she’s cute,” she says, walking over to hug Holly, “She’s a Hotchner.” 

Nora gets passed from Mae, to Lucy, to Aaron, while Emily chats with Holly, sympathising over the story she tells her about the birth and asking all the questions she’d been grateful for when it was her with a newborn. 

“Em,” Aaron says, nudging his shoulder against hers, “Do you want to hold her?” 

“Actually,” Jack says, smiling at Holly before he stands, grabbing a small wrapped gift from under the tree, all of the decorations she’d bought since he was little staring back at her, “Before you do, I wanted you to open this.” 

She furrows her brow curiously, “It’s not Christmas until next week,” she says, and she looks down at Nora in Aaron’s arms, “Plus, she’s the best Christmas present ever.”  

“Technically, it isn’t for you,” he says, smiling when her brow furrows even further, “But you bought me so many over the years, it only seems right that you open one of them.” 

She smiles curiously and rips open the paper, and her breath stutters in her chest, catching on all the love she’d kept in there for over two decades now, her heart full as she runs her fingers over the script engraved on the small wooden disk. 

My First Christmas - Nora Emily Hotchner 

She hears Aaron’s breath catch, too, and she looks up at Jack, “Her middle name is Emily?” 

He nods, tears gathering in his eyes as he swallows thickly, “What else would it be?” 

She stands up and hugs him tighter than she thinks she ever has, unashamed in her tears when she pulls back, “Thank you…I…thank you.” 

He shakes his head, “No, thank you, Mom. For everything.” 

She blows out a breath and turns to Aaron, her smile shaking as she holds out her arms, “Give me my namesake, then,” she says, a wet laugh caught in her throat, “It’s time we met properly.” 

Aaron hands over the baby, and he wraps his arm around Emily, his hand on her lower back as they stare down at their granddaughter, the lights of the Christmas tree more beautiful than they had ever been when reflected in her eyes.