"You want me to take a turn? It's really coming down out there."

I squinted at the road ahead, the windshield wipers working overtime against a torrential downpour. We appeared to be driving through a band of rain that was coating the entire Eastern seaboard. It was just hitting New York as we were leaving.

"I think I'm okay, but thanks." I braved a glance away from the road to smile at JC, but he wasn't looking at me. His eyes were on the view out of the windshield and his shoulders were hunched up near his ears, revealing his tension. "Sweetie, we're fine. It's just some rain. Look, I'm driving ten under the speed limit, and keeping my distance, just like you said." I gestured toward the odometer and out of the corner of my eye saw him check it. He nodded and scratched at his goatee, then smoothed it down.

"You're doing fine." He waved a finger at our fellow road warriors. "I don't trust all of them, though."

"I know. I'm being careful. Get back to work."

JC's side of the car looked like a mobile home office. He had notebooks and pens piled up on the dashboard, his phone plugged into the iTrip charger and his Mac on his lap. The day before, in my exploration of the city, I bought him a charger that he could plug into the DC outlet in the car to power his laptop. With a mobile broadband adaptor, he could work while I drive, do his research and send email, saving him a lot of time. I was pretty proud of myself for thinking of a solution that would help him.

"Taking a break for a minute. You're sure you don't want me to take over?"

I shook my head, gripping the steering wheel, forging ahead. "Nah. I'm good. I'll let you know. Promise." I felt a hand on my thigh, warm and heavy, squeezing and reassuring, and then heard tapping on the computer. "So, how's it going? Getting anything done?"

"Mmmhmm." He nodded, scrolling through his phone, taking notes, scrolling again. "A couple of my buddies in LA are doing some shows in late January; slots might still be open for talent. I got Eric working on getting me in. My guy in New Orleans changed his number. Trying to hunt him down so I can see him when I'm in town. He's got kind of a standing gig at this old Opera House. I'll take you by there; the acoustics in this place are amazing."

"That'll be nice for some of your quieter songs, where it's just the guitar and the piano. Any idea what songs you're singing?"

He shrugged a shoulder and tapped his thumb on my thigh in some rhythm that must have been dancing through his head, since we didn't have music on. "Depends on the venue, kind of. I mean that place in New Orleans is pretty much ripe for the slower, jazzier stuff. I don't know if I'd feel like I could rock out there. We'll see."

"So, explain to me how they-the label I mean-will be able to measure the effect of these shows? If you're like... piggybacking on festivals and guest playing here and there, and not on an official concert tour?"

JC scratched his temple with the lid of a pen before balancing it on top of the stack of notebooks on the dashboard. "Well, once I have a schedule together, we'll send it to my contact up there. They'll pick a few shows, send someone out to drop in, probably. I won't know which ones and I probably won't know they're there. I mean, that's how talent scouts do it all the time-they hear about some hot new kid or band or singer or whatever and drop in unannounced. Listen to the music, gauge the crowd and the reaction. See if there's potential."

"Right, okay. So every show has to be like... wow."

"Exactly," he answered with a heavy sigh. "No pressure, right? But I'm just not going to worry about that. I'll do my music and if they love it, okay. If they don't love it, okay. Tired of worrying about it."

I nodded, commiserating. I was starting to understand his slow acceptance that he had to get back on the road and remind people who he was. It did seem to be a lot of work for little return, if at all. Any normal person in a normal job in any other industry would have quit long before now. Strapping the boots back on was showing a bravery and a tenacity that I had to respect.

The GPS device called out time and distance, updating with the ETA to our destination, the West Virginia/Tennessee border. Aside from the rain, the drive was pretty. After looking at sky scrapers and the metropolis that was the Northeast, a wide expanse of sky was nice to see, even if it was covered in looming, dark clouds. The four lane highway was busy but not packed, flanked with trees and bushes and grasses and brush, making the drive peaceful and scenic. Between the view and listening to JC work, the nine hour drive flew by and soon the GPS was alerting our arrival at the exit for Kingsport, Tennessee.

We crawled down Clay Street, which seemed to be a main drag through town just off the highway. The standard fast food fare called out as I drove past-Wendy's, McDonald's, Burger King. A few run down local restaurants with full parking lots, despite the weather. The rain had let up some but was still pelting the windshield so hard the wipers were on full speed. It was dark and rainy and I had no idea where I was going. We had been on the road most of the day and I was on the verge of cranky. I would definitely cross the line if I couldn't get out of the car, soon.

"Okay, where to?"

JC looked up from the computer in his lap, his head circling around. "Oh, we're already here. Uhm...a hotel along here, any hotel is fine. We'll get back on this road tomorrow toward New Orleans."

I rolled into the parking lot of a Marriott hotel, taking cover under the carport near the entrance. "I know the drill," I said, unsnapping my seatbelt and picking up my purse from the backseat.

JC was powering off the computer and stacking his notebooks together. "So do I."

Minutes later, the valet was driving off toward guest parking and JC was dragging two large suitcases and two bags through the sliding doors. I took two bags from him, slinging them over my shoulder and headed toward the elevator. "I got us on the highest floor possible," I said with a grin as we stepped inside.

"For someone who's afraid of heights you sure like to stay near the top."

"Street noise bugs me."

"Lots of things bug you."

I smirked, reaching for the button to take us to the twelfth floor. "You bug me."

"I know. I try to."

"That bugs me."

JC ran out of retorts and just laughed. I giggled along as the ding of the elevator sounded and the doors slid open.

 "We're in 1202. This way."  I turned right off the elevator and lumbered down the hall, JC in tow. At the door of our room, I slid in the keycard and pushed it open at the beep. A clean and inviting room welcomed us. I was never so happy to see a standard room with a standard bed. Nothing fancy or overdone, not too expensive, not uncomfortably lavish. It was everything we needed-nothing more, nothing less. Simple. Perfect.

JC went through his usual ritual of lining up the bags and luggage in a corner of the room and out of the way. I was at the window, frowning at the droll weather and black sky. Lightning was flashing, thunder was rolling, and the rain had picked up again, droplets flying at the windows and tapping a beat on the panes of glass.

"I'm not going out in that," I heard from behind me.

"Me either. What are we gonna do, though?"

"I have some ideas." I didn't even have to turn around to know what he was talking about. I smiled to myself, catching his reflection in the window.

"Besides that," I said, drawing the curtain closed and joining him at the small, two-person table. The light fixture above it hung so low that it hid his face, so I had to tip to the side to see him. "We do have other things in common, you know."

"We do? Like what?"

"Like... stuff. I don't know. We like movies and games. Pop culture. Music. You like to talk. I like to listen."

JC flared his nose and rolled his eyes around. "So you want to talk. Instead of having sex. Is it your time of the month?"

"What? No!" I reached across the small table to smack his hand but he pulled away, then brought it back and grabbed mine, playing with the tips of my fingers. "Not instead of sex. Just... we don't have to crawl into bed every time we're bored, do we? I don't want to lose our friendship, you know? I never get tired of just hanging out with you."

He brought my hand to his face, his goatee tickling my fingers as it curved around his jaw line. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips into my palm, breathing deeply. I felt my resolve wavering a little. "We could talk after sex," he suggested, just after his eyes opened and two crystal clear pools of blue were staring so intensely at me.

"I...uhm..." I closed my eyes, creating a temporary barrier against his. Those damn things were hypnotic. "We fall asleep after sex."

"Oh yeah," he said. Like he didn't remember. "You wear me out."

"And you, likewise."

He wiggled his brows and tucked his bottom lip between his teeth. When that didn't work to change my mind, he sat back in the seat and shot a playful glare across the table.  "Alright. I'm game. What do you want to do?"

"Why do I always have to plan what we do?"

"Because I had an idea, and you shot it down."

"I didn't shoot it down. I just want to save it till later." I sat there and he sat there and neither of us said anything. "Fine. Uhm... well, we should eat. We haven't eaten since lunch and it's after seven and-"

"I know how you get grumpy when you're hungry."

"And then uhm... I don't know. We could play a game."

"A sex game?"

I got up from the table and picked up the hotel services booklet near the phone. I opened it and flipped through it to the room service menu. "Hey, one track mind. Try to pay attention."

"I am. We could play strip Poker. Or strip Gin Rummy. Or strip 52 card pickup. Or-"

"What do you want to eat?" I asked, pointedly ignoring him and trying not to smile. "Steak? Chicken? Pasta sounds good to me."

"I don't care. Whatever you order, I'm eating it." 

JC sat sideways in the chair, his back against the window, feet stretched out in front of him, legs crossed at the ankles. I was keenly aware of him watching me as I browsed the menu, placed our order, and put the booklet back on the desk. I was not wearing down, no matter how long he stared at me. It was driving him nuts, I could tell.

"Forty five minutes," I said, crawling onto the bed and stretching out, on my stomach. "I'm so tired."

"It's from all that driving in the rain. Stressful. I told you I would take over."

"I know," I sighed into the crook of my arm as my head sank onto it. "I wanted you to have time to work, though."

"I know. Thanks for that. You did a good job, today."

I smiled and nodded, lacking energy for doing much more. "I'm gonna close my eyes for a little bit before dinner gets here."

In the quiet of the room and just under the cover of a light sleep, I heard JC moving around-a suitcase unzipping, the bathroom door opening and closing, running water. Then I felt a dip in the bed and an arm over me and fingers curling around my waist.

"Don't miss our dinner," I mumbled, trying to lift my heavy eyelids.

"I'm up. Just laying with you. Go back to sleep." 

I nodded, giving up on opening my eyes, and sank deeper into sleep until more sounds-and smells-nagged and poked and dragged me awake again. I sat up, looking around for JC. And food.

"Over here," he said, at the table. Two places were set with covered plates and silverware. JC was in one chair, one leg casually crossed over the other, a folded newspaper in one hand, an open bottle of water in the other. "Still hungry?"

I crawled off of the bed and sat across from him, except I couldn't see him. Annoyed, I batted at the light fixture that hung between us. "I can't handle this right now," I growled. "Let's eat on the bed. Or the floor. Or anywhere else."

"I have an idea," he said. "Stand up. Move the chair out of the way." I did as he asked and he pulled the table away from the wall and the light fixture. The table was now too close to the bed, but I could see him. That was all I cared about. "Better?"

"Yeah." I put the chair back, sat down, picked up my fork and uncovered the plate, digging into the dish I had ordered for the both of us. Across the table, JC stared for a few seconds, shrugged, and then uncovered his own plate, mixing the now cold chicken into gummy, lukewarm pasta.

Wow, you are rude and ungrateful.

"Uhm..." Embarrassed, I set my fork down in my plate and reached across the table. "Thank you. That was driving me crazy." He smiled and shrugged a shoulder, then shoveled a forkful of food into his mouth. I took that as a sign that he wasn't mad, and picked up my fork again. "Sorry to be such cranky bitch. Why didn't you wake me up when they brought the food?"

"So you wouldn't be a cranky bitch," he said. Then laughed. "I wanted you to sleep. You feel okay?"

I nodded, chewing on a mouthful of chicken and bowtie pasta. "You?"

"I'm great," he answered, half of his plate already gone, wiping his mouth with the linen napkins furnished by the room service crew. "It's a nice night, even with the rain. Planning the next step in my life. Hangin' out with my girl. Having some food. Life is good. Right?"

I smiled, feeling even better since I had slept a little and had some food in me. Way less cranky.

"You want to maybe watch a movie or something? I checked the channel guide, there's some okay stuff coming on tonight." His eyes lifted to mine, and ever so quickly, he winked before lowering them again. "I promise to come on to you about halfway through it."

"You are why we never make it through any movie we watch at home. You blame it on me, but it's really you."

He laughed, swirling his fork around his plate, chasing the last of the pieces of bowtie. "I find movies to be romantic. An aphrodisiac, if you will. Perfect lighting, close quarters, lots of drama. Creates a mood, you know?"

"Really?" I took a swig of water, winking at him over the bottle. "I never made out during a sci-fi movie before I met you."

"It made Star Wars that much more memorable, though. Right?"

"Definitely. Use The Force has so much meaning, now."

JC pushed his empty plate away and talked about movies while I finished my dinner. When my plate was clean, we piled them both onto the tray with the plate covers and set them outside the door for pickup. I sat on the edge of the bed, in front of the flat screen TV-the room's only real indulgence besides the refrigerator-and picked up the remote. The push of a few buttons brought up the channel guide.

"What movie did you see listed that you wanted to watch?"

"Nothing in particular," he said. I felt the bed bounce as he flung himself onto it and then moved around, getting comfortable. "It's just not a bad selection. Or we could just lay here and talk, like you wanted."

"Well, you said you wanted to watch a movie."

"And you said you wanted us to talk and hang out."

I twisted around to glare at him, sprawled across half of the bed behind me, but the glare dissipated at the sight of him. Full and happy, sort of smiling, contentment on his face.

Don't ruin this. 

I scooted back, remote in hand, and settled in next to him, snuggling up against his warm and solid form. One arm dropped so it was around me, cupping my body to his. The other took the remote from me and flipped through channels, up and down until we'd traveled the short list several times without finding something we wanted to watch. He muted the TV and tossed it toward the foot of the bed.

"Nothing good on until later, anyway. We can watch ‘Yes Man' if you want. I heard that was good."

"I've seen it, but I'll watch it again with you."

"Mkay." His lips brushed against my forehead as he stared blankly at the muted TV, and then suddenly turned to his side so he was facing me, propped up on an elbow.  "Well, so... talk. Tell me something about you. Or your family. Holidays are coming up-- tell me about Christmas and Christmas Eve and stuff. What do you usually do? Is there a tradition?"

I couldn't help my smile, knowing the rush of the holiday season was just weeks away and soon I would be seeing my family, playing with my nephews and niece, enjoying myself, albeit without him, and relaxing with good food. "Well, like I've told you, everyone goes out to Vail for Christmas every year. We have, for as long as I can remember. We all usually show up around the 23rd or so, just because it's so quiet and relaxing out there. My brothers like to get in some extra ski time if they can, and my Grandma likes the help in the kitchen. She bakes her ass off for Christmas.

"Then, on Christmas Eve we all kind of hang out, doing whatever. My mom's family is Russian, so they have some traditions that are holdovers from the old country. Like, we're not supposed to eat or drink until the first star appears in the sky, but with the babies we can't do that, so we have a big meal after sunset. Grandpa starts the meal with the Lord's Prayer and my Grandma bakes a loaf of bread and we eat that with honey and garlic. It means... something. Like, something about the sweetness and bitterness of life."

JC nodded, paying rapt attention.

"Then we have dinner, which is usually fish, sometimes chicken. We rarely eat red meat on Christmas Eve, though. Then after dinner, we play games and eat and talk and laugh until the boys get tired and we send them to bed. And then all hell breaks loose."

"Presents?"

"Yeah. We all have our stuff shipped down to Grandma's and she hides it for us. Usually there isn't much under the tree when we get there but a few boxes. All the stockings are empty, too. So after the boys go to bed, we dig everything out and wrap and talk and fill stockings. And the adults usually do a gift exchange, like we pick one person and buy for them. We exchange those gifts on Christmas Eve, usually. Christmas morning is about the kids."

"Well, what if like... Garret got his wife something? He would give it to her Christmas Eve?"

I nodded. "If he wanted to, he could. They've done that. Usually, though the couples do their own Christmas thing before or after the Vail trip. We really try to keep Christmas about the kids, and as magical as possible. It's so cute to see them come downstairs, and their eyes are so big and their jaws hit the floor, because there's presents and stuff in their stockings, and it smells like cinnamon rolls..." I sighed, grinning up at him. "It really is special."

He smiled down at me, a hand reaching toward my face, flicking a hair from my forehead and tucking it behind my ear. I almost shuddered, the gesture was so smooth and gentle and soft. "Sounds like it. Sounds like fun."

"Yeah. They love it, and it's cool that they still kind of believe in Santa. Then we eat every last cinnamon roll that Grandma makes, and watch the kids play with their toys. My brothers and dad like to watch their ball games or whatever, and we women make ourselves useful in the kitchen until Grandma kicks us out. Christmas lunch is late, around 2 or so. Something light, maybe leftovers from the night before, soup and sandwiches, whatever. Our Christmas dinner isn't until about seven, that night."

JC reared back, his forehead wrinkling. "Really. That's so late."

"I know. We've always done it like that, though. If you think about it, most people are doing the same thing. They eat Christmas dinner at two and then go back for seconds at six or seven. Same thing."

"I guess," he said with a shrug. "Cuts down on the return trip."

"Exactly."

"What do you guys usually eat?"

"Uh... Turkey, ham, prime rib. All the fixin's. Homemade rolls. Pumpkin pie, chocolate cake. Grandma makes everything from scratch, even the ice cream to go with the cake and the whipped cream to go on the pie. And then after dinner we all sit around like fat pigs watching movies until we fall asleep. I like to wait until everyone is in bed and dip into the cocoa and sit in front of the fire with a good book. Good meaning trashy and full of sex." I grinned and winked up at him.

He chuckled, chewing on his bottom lip. "Is that where you were, when I called you last year?"

"Yep. Yeah, I was. Wow." I had almost forgotten, it was so long ago. Nearly a year. I had just met him. We had seen each other a few times already. I was already in love with him; I just didn't know it yet. My mom knew, though. Moms always know.

"Serena..." He paused, reaching across the small span of space between us to bring me closer to him. "So, I'm thinking about something. And I want you to be honest, let me know what you think, okay?"

I nodded, my forehead wrinkling in concern. "Something wrong?"

"No. Not at all. I was... I was thinking about coming out there for a couple days. What do you think about that?"

My eyes popped open. Wide open. My heart skipped a beat and then pumped erratically as I sat up. "To Vail?" I demanded, staring down at him. "For Christmas? Are you serious?"

He sat up, only to bring an arm around my shoulder and bring me back down, again. "Stop. Relax."

When I was settled again he dug his fingers into my hair, rubbing the tips against my scalp. It wasn't doing much to calm me down, but it felt good anyway. "Not the whole holiday," he said. "I'll spend some time with my family, like usual. I'll probably leave LA before you leave for Vail. Spend Christmas Eve and Christmas morning with my family. Hop a flight that night or the next day and come out and see your family. Well... you. And your family. But mostly you."

"JC..." I gulped air, still recovering, my mind still reeling from his announcement. "Okay, uhm. You want me to be honest, right?"

"Yeah. Totally honest." He looked, though, like he was dreading my answer.

"Okay. Totally honest, I would love for you to come. Like really, I totally want to be selfish and ask you to come with me, but your family..."  Dammit, he was making my heart sink. I had resolved myself to not seeing him over the holiday and I was finally fine with it.  In a matter of minutes he had wrecked all my hard work and made me want this thing I had convinced myself was too selfish to ask for.

"Karen and Roy, and Heather and Ty-sweetie, they love you too, and they'll want to see you just as bad as I would. I can't take you away from them."

"You wouldn't be. I'll see them. I kind of brought it up over Thanksgiving with them and they're cool. They want me to be happy, and what would make me happy would be seeing you for Christmas. You came to Orlando for Thanksgiving. I can go to Vail for Christmas. Part of it, anyway."

"Well... I mean... like I said, I want you to come. Just..."

"What?"

"Well...I mean, there's other things and other people-"

"Like?"

"Like my grandparents. You remember when I told you about my Aunt Grace and her husband Edward, the snooty Englishman? And how she flew off to England and met him and never came home, and the Grandparents were so upset with her because she was living with him and wasn't married to him?" I stared up at him, wide eyed, eyebrows raised.

He nodded, a vague look in his eye. "Yeah. Well, so... you think they won't like me because we live together?"

"It might be an issue. They might not let us sleep in the same bed." JC started laughing, but my unwavering stare made him stop. "I'm serious. They love their family and they are incredible people, but they are pretty conservative and really open with letting people know what they think. I can take it but I don't want you to have to be subjected to that."

JC laughed. "I'm a big boy, I can take some criticism. We'll do what we have to do, right?" He seemed to be waiting for an answer, but I was having a hard time letting ‘yes' come out of my mouth. It was a tiny word, three little letters. Why was it so hard?

"Sweetie... I just... I mean, last year was fun and all, but it sucked, too. I wanted to be with you and see you and play in the snow with you. Hang out in front of the fireplace with you. Especially now that you mention them and if you feel like they'll be really negative about us, I want to be there with you. We're a team, you know?"

I sighed, trying hard to give in to the feeling welling up inside, that longing and hoping and giddy excitement about having him with me over the holiday. I was already imagining the ski trips and snow fights and romantic walks at dusk, hand in hand through the snow-dusted streets in downtown Vail. I wanted it. Badly.

What the hell? Live a little.

"Okay. I'll talk to my mom and see if she can like... prep them before we come out. If she thinks it'll be a huge issue, I don't want to ruin the holiday."

"You'd rather just suffer by yourself, huh?" I glanced up at him and he was smiling. "Martyr."

My eyes rolled before I could stop them. "I'm not-well, look...okay. Maybe I'm playing the martyr a little, but would you want me around if people in your family openly opposed our relationship?"

"I wouldn't stop you from coming because of that. We'd just do a lot of kissing and hugging in front of them. Make ‘em mad." He chuckled, the silly grin on his face making me laugh.

"Okay, just... let me talk to my mom. I'll call her tomorrow." JC nodded and rolled to his back, stretching out next to me, and then lifting his arm so I could move over, up against him. I curled a leg over his and let my arm stretch across his body. "Thank you for offering to come. It means a lot to me. I'm already excited."

"Mmmhmm," he hummed, his eyes closed. "Should be fun."

"So, tell me about your family and your traditions. You guys have a big ass gathering, right?"

He nodded, his eyes opening and focused on the ceiling. "Yeah, everyone comes down to Florida, from everywhere and kind of swarms at my mom and dad's place. They usually wait until I get there and we go get the biggest tree we can find, that will fit in the house, and I'm serious about that. I'm not much in the kitchen or anything, but my mom and Heather usually have me busy doing stuff-hang this, move that, tie this, put that up, take that down. Put up these ten thousand strings of tangled lights that Tyler just ripped down and didn't organize last year. And then why don't you like, you know... rappel from the ceiling and put this star on top of the like, eighty-four foot tree that dad bought."

His mock frustration provided fuel for my laughter. If it were up to my father, the tree we used every year would have to be decorated outside of the house, because it would never fit inside. We always had to talk him down a foot or two.

"Christmas Eve is pretty much about food and drinks. People everywhere. Talking, catching up. My aunts ask me the same questions every year-" He counted them off on his fingers. "What am I doing now, have I found a nice girl to settle down with, and am I coming back to Florida to take care of my parents. My mom likes me to get on the piano and play some carols. And then before everyone leaves we have a big family circle and do a prayer. And then everyone goes back to their hotel or houses or whatever.

"Then Christmas morning, we meet back at the house around ten. My mom makes a ton of this breakfast casserole every year-- I could eat about half a pan of it myself. She always makes an extra pan and keeps it locked away so Tyler and I can have some for the rest of the time we're home."

I gave a pat to his belly, which was oddly rumbling again. "Imagine that, the two of you liking food."

"We are pigs. So, we do gifts in the morning as a family, before everyone else shows up. We don't do real big gifts or anything. If I want to buy my mom something, I just buy it for her. I don't wait for Christmas. We do small stuff, sometimes funny stuff. Sometimes we do themes, like one year the theme was the color blue, so every gift had to be blue. Tyler found the stupidest blue shit."

I laughed, my mind picturing the scene of everyone unwrapping their gifts from Tyler and the pan across the room at confused or disgusted, or annoyed expressions. "Like what? What did he get?"

"Uh, I think I got a pair of blue shoes. And you know how big my feet are. They look like clown shoes, big fucking blue clown shoes. My mom got a CD of some band called Blue. Never heard of them. Heather got this like glass figurine thing of a blue bull. Like a male cow. I mean, she collects figurines, but she collects princesses. Not cows. Shit. That's the last year we did themes. He ruined it for everyone."

I had laughed so hard that I rolled off of him, and could hardly breathe. Hot tears were rolling down each cheek as I buried my head into the bedspread until the laughter subsided. I swiped a few tears from my face with the sleeve of my shirt and sniffled. "Uhm... so do you still have the blue shoes?"

JC laughed, which set me off again. "I think so," he said. "I want to say I've worn them, just to show him how stupid they look. I never throw anything away. I'm sure I have them, they just might be packed up somewhere. We'll find them, when we get home."  When we get home. Damn, I love the sound of that.

"That kid is hilarious."

"He's crazy. You can't be more wild than him. Just... let him be the wild one."

"Sounds like it." I sniffled and sighed and my head found its way back to his shoulder. My arm crossed his body again and my leg laid between his. "So what do you guys eat for Christmas?"

"Uhm, turkey. My favorite, every year. My mom makes scalloped potatoes and green beans and rolls, all the good stuff. Then there's cake and pie and cookies for dessert. And not home-made ice cream but good stuff, anyway." He leaned down to kiss my forehead before he added, "And then we open the liquor."

"Uh-oh."

"Yeah. Dad only needs a couple of swigs before he's claiming he can kick everyone's ass at poker, so we sit around and play cards, smoking cigars and talking shit. Heather and some of my aunts, too. You'd be surprised at who's around that table. My mom and grandma just listen from the other room. Sometimes they knit stuff or pass around embarrassing pictures of all the kids."

"Awww...Christmas at the Chasez House sounds so fun and laid back. I want to beat Roy's ass at poker."

"Next year. We'll go. Throw down the gauntlet. He won't turn you down."

"Is he any good?"

"Terrible." JC's chest bounced with his laughter, the sound filling the air. "He has no idea what he's doing. It's pretty funny. One of us has to sit next to him to make sure he's playing the right cards."

"Oh, damn. I just remembered this card game you're gonna get roped into playing over Christmas. It's crazy. I don't even remember how we started playing it, but Garrett picked it up somewhere. It can get violent. My dad doesn't play well with others."

"Uh oh. Terry? The guy that pointed a gun at me when he met me? No..."

"Yeah. It's one of those games where the rules aren't explained clearly, and you sort of have to stumble on the rules as you go, but the penalty for not following the rules is drawing another card. The point of the game is to get rid of them, you just don't know how. And then you have to remember the all the rules as they're revealed. The longer the game goes, the more frustrating it gets. I swear the whole point is to make people throw their cards on the table and storm out of the room."

"Oh, that totally sounds like fun," he said, his tone dripping in sarcasm.

"I know. They play it every year and almost beat the shit out of each other."

"Ahhhh," he sighed, heaving a deep breath into the air. "Holidays. Special time. Can't wait."

"I know," I said, my sigh matching his."I want to see my nephews. And my Chloe. And my mom."

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I miss my mom."

"And I'm surprised to be saying this, but I'm excited to see Regina."

JC's head rolled in my direction. "Oh yeah? How's she doing? Still good?"

"Yeah, she's fine. Really good. Her first quarter of classes went great. Still working. I think she's ready to get out of that house, though. We made plans, while I'm there, to go look at some apartments that she can afford. She asked me to help her, a little."

JC was instantly quiet, and not just quiet but suddenly withdrawn. He had been playing with my hair but was eerily still, now and pensive, like he had something to say but wasn't saying it. My eyes rolled up to his, an eyebrow arched. "What?"

He didn't say anything, for awhile. And then, when I was on the verge of giving up, he asked softly, gently, like he was afraid to say it, "Were you planning to tell me that?"

Startled at his reaction, I sputtered a bit before answering. "Uhm... yeah. We only talked about it yesterday, while you were gone. I was going to tell you, I just forgot--"

"And what does she mean by help her out, for a little bit? Like, financially?"

"She didn't really say, but I'm guessing--"

"And I mean, do you really want to do that? You think she's like, clean and rehabbed and trustworthy enough, after what, six months? You're not co-signing anything for her. Right?"

"Honey, I don't know. I don't know what ‘help me out a little' really means. I'll find out when I get there." I sat up, staring down at him, trying not to feel attacked, but the questions were flying faster than I could answer them. "Are you mad at me?"

"No," he said, his tone never changing, never rising an octave, but cold and hard. At least it seemed that way to me. "I'm asking questions you should be asking yourself. How do you know she won't decide it's too much stress, and skip town on your dime? Then you're stuck with her lease and whatever else you'll be so excited to buy her because you're proud of her."

"What makes you think I-"

"Do your parents know?"

I paused, glancing down at him. "What?"

"Do your parents know she asked you for help? Did you talk to them, about that?"

"No, I haven't had a chance-"

"So, what does that tell you? You guys are wide open about Regina, right? Isn't that what you said?"

"Yes. We are. Or we were. Until they felt threatened by my relationship with her and shut down on me. They're still pissed that I'm going there for the New Year. Now we don't talk about her at all."

"Maybe because you hide shit like this from them."  I scoffed and turned away from him, making my way to the other side of the bed. So much for not fighting. If I didn't start it, he did. JC grabbed my arm before I could get away, gripping it tightly. "Don't! Don't walk away in the middle of a conversation."

I tried to yank my arm away, but he had a tight hold that wasn't letting go. "Well I'm not gonna sit here while you lecture me like a child! I'm a grown up, remember? And this is my life and my mom. A year in my life doesn't give you the right to tell me what to do."

"I'm not lecturing you, Serena. I'm bringing up things you're not even thinking about. That you need to be thinking about. Do you even see what you're doing? Regina has a few lucid moments and suddenly you want to drop everything and run to her rescue. Like always. You can't shit on your parents like that, not after the years they spent taking care of all of you, Regina too. You wasted a lot of money on Regina, helping her out a little. I just don't want to see you fall into that again."

My eyes narrowed, anger boiling just under the surface. "It's not up to you, JC. I know you think you control me, but you don't."

He sighed, his frustration apparent in the accompanying eye roll. "I'm not trying to control you, Serena. But I do think I tend to make sense when you go off the deep end. I'm the level headed one. I'm just trying to pull you back a little."

His grip on my arm loosened and he sat up, moving over on the bed so he was next to me again. "Look, I'm sorry, I don't mean to attack you or what you're trying to do for her, but I see red flags all over this situation. This is what you were trying to get away from, when we met. This is what was tearing you up inside. Don't go backward, sweetie. Promise me that you won't sign anything for her. You won't buy her a bunch of shit that you might be paying on for a long time, if she disappears."

Deflated, I stared into space. I had every intention of going to Denver and doing what I had to do to help her. If she needed someone to rent an apartment for her, I would do that. If she needed furniture, dishes, a vacuum cleaner-she would have it. This was the furthest Regina had come in... well, ever. I wanted to be there for her. I needed to be there for her, to make up for all the times I pushed her away, and all the times I wasn't there for her.

It was like JC could read my mind-and maybe he could. Maybe my situation wasn't isolated. Maybe he knew what he was talking about. Maybe he was right.

"You're proud of her," he said, soothing, smoothing a hand down my arm and back up, his touch sending a wave of goose bumps in its wake. "I know you are. There's a huge difference in how you talk about her but, honey... the best thing you can do for your mom--for Regina-- is to let her do this herself. Let her pull herself up. Let her do the work and save the money. You want to buy her a coffeemaker and some mugs? Cool. Some rugs and plants? Great. But don't put yourself out there, quite yet. She hasn't earned that kind of trust, yet. At least not from me. And definitely not from Terry and Donna and maybe that's their biggest issue. You're ready to open yourself back up to her and yeah, she's doing great. Let her keep doing great."

I hated to admit it. That he was right. Again. That I was going off half cocked, thinking with my heart and not my head, acting out of emotion, not making rational decisions. Not protecting myself. Why did it sound so different coming from him, than it came from my parents?

I felt the flush of tears coming, my lip shaking, my nose growing redder by the second. "I know you're right, I just... I want to help her. I've always just wanted to help her. And I want her to be doing well, I want that so badly. I love her." My vision blurred with the tears that streaked down each cheek, hung off my chin and dripped into my lap. "I haven't loved her, really loved her in a long time. She's my mom. My actual mom. I'm proud of her. I just want to help. I hate not helping."

"I know, sweet girl. Because you're a sweet girl."  JC scooted even closer, wrapped both arms around me and held on tight, alternately kissing the top of my head and my forehead while the tears kept dripping. "It's hard, I know. But you'll be even more proud of her when she's standing on her own two feet, because she put herself there. Think of her like your niece Chloe, you know? Chloe's what, ten months old? She can stand, probably, if she holds on to something, right? Maybe take a step or two, but she's not steady yet. If you pick her up and carry her everywhere, she'll never learn to walk. Her legs will never get strong. So you encourage her to walk, and no matter how many times she falls, you tell her to get back up, until she's taking little steps. And then bigger steps. And then before you know it, she's a big, strong girl, and she's walking and running and wearing makeup and flirting with boys and giving her Aunt Serena grey hair."

I giggled, even though I didn't want to. And then nodded that I understood.  

"I'm sorry for beating you over the head. I'm just... I'm sure she's fine. She's going to continue to be fine All you have to do is show your support. I'm protective of you, though, when it comes to her. If she hurts you, I'll hurt her. I mean that."

I tipped my head back, found his lips and kissed them. "Thank you. I needed to hear that. I didn't want to, but I needed to."

"I'm the best at telling people things they don't want to hear. I'm kind of bossy."

I sniffled and laughed, crawling off of the bed toward the bathroom. "A little bit. Just a little."

I stepped into the bathroom and closed the door, wilting against it, sliding down until I was sitting on the cold stone tile of the bathroom floor, my back against the door, the remainder of the hot tears flowing down my cheeks. Oh, Regina. How are you still turning my life upside down?

"Movie's coming on!"

I sniffled and took a deep breath, got up off of the floor and yanked a handful of tissues from the holder under the sink. I wiped my eyes and my nose, tossed the tissues away, and then picked up a towel off of the fresh stack on the counter. I soaked it with cold water and dipped my face into it, pressing on my eyes, trying to get rid of the puffy, swollen, red look.

"Coming?"

"I'm coming," I called out, wringing out the towel and tossing it into the basket under the sink. I sniffled again, checked my reflection and cringed at my still tousled hair from the long day of driving and my nap, bloodshot eyes and classically Greek bulbous nose. I looked like shit.

"Oh well," I muttered to myself, not even bothering to reach for a brush or a comb. "Not dating a supermodel, here."

*

"I kind of like that concept, you know. Saying yes to everything. You never know what life will bring you if you never take any chances."

"Uh huh."

"What, you don't believe in it?"

I shrugged, holding the remote, watching the credits roll while the channel guide at the bottom of the screen showed preview information for the next movie. We were in our usual movie watching position- JC up against the headboard, pillows behind him; me in front of him, his chest against my back and arms around me. Yes Man was entertaining, the silly humor and laughter helping to lift the damper that had fallen over the room. We both needed that.

"It's not that I don't believe in it. It's just... like the girl said in the movie. You don't do things just to do them, or just because it's the first thing that comes to mind. The point is to not limit yourself, I guess. Explore and branch out. Maybe do some things you never thought you'd do."

"That's what I just said."

"No, you didn't," I argued, laughing. "You said you liked the concept of saying yes to everything. Lord knows where you'd end up. You get way too many offers to do weird shit."

"It'd be fun, though. We should do that, sometime. Just spin a wheel and wherever it lands, we'll go there."

"Uhm, as long as we're going by car."

"Yeah, there's that," he said, contemplating. His hands began to wander, playing at the hem of my t-shirt before ducking under and brushing across smooth, warm skin. I tipped my head back against his chest, eyes closed, enjoying the slow crawl from one side of my belly to the other. "Do you have a passport?"

"Mmmhmm," I answered, my head rolling against him. "Told myself I was going to go visit Aunt Grace one year and I haven't been able to get my ass on an international flight, yet. I can't imagine flying over water. Freaks me out."

"You'd like it. It's like sitting in your living room."

"If my living room was 30,000 feet above the Atlantic Ocean, then yeah. It would be like sitting in my living room."

I felt lips, soft and warm, fluttering against my skin-my cheek, my neck, my shoulder were being covered in light kisses. It amazed how we could go from raw, can't-get-enough-of-each-other sex to slow and intimate lovemaking. In the same day.

Slowly, something came to mind and I lifted my head and opened my eyes, a smile creeping across my face. I turned slightly, so I could see him. He was bad, very bad at lying. This would work to my favor.

"Why do you want to know if I have a passport?"

He shrugged, pressed his lips together and suddenly found an infomercial about teeth whitening to be very entertaining. 

"Honey."

"Mmm."

"Why did you want to know if I have a passport?"

"Just asking."

"Why were you just asking?"

"I needed to know."

"Why? Are you going overseas?"

"Maybe."

"And you want me to go with you?"

"Maybe."

I glared at him, eyes narrowed, but he stared straight ahead. The longer I looked at him, though, the more the edges of his mouth were turning up.

"JC. What?"

"Nothing, Serena. You'll find out. Just make sure it's current."

"When? When do I find out?"

He sat up then, pushing at me. "Move. Full bladder and you've been laying on me for a couple hours."  He climbed out from behind me and ducked into the bathroom. While he was in there, I went to work, removing my t-shirt and jeans and socks, smoothing down my hair and sat in the middle of the bed. He was whistling when he came out of the bathroom, and stopped, midtune, when he saw me, eyebrows raised and eyes wide.

"Oh. Hi there."

"Hi," I answered in the sexiest voice I could muster up.

"Uhm. So I should join you, huh?"

"Maybe. Maybe I'll let you touch me if you answer me." 

"Ha." He laughed, pulling at his clothes, kicking off his jeans, tossing his t-shirt in the corner. When he was down to his briefs he crawled up onto the bed beside me. "You'll let me touch you even if I don't tell you. It's a surprise."

"I can't take any more surprises. Tell me."

JC chuckled, leaning over me, nibbling at my shoulder, traveling up my neck to my ear. "I... can't," he whispered, tugging at my earlobe. "It's not ready. You'll find out at Christmas. Okay? Can you wait that long?"

I sighed, dramatically so. "I guess."

"Okay. I promise not to drag it out. Too much." He moved away, much too soon, toward the head of the bed and pulled the comforter and the sheets down, holding them open for me to slide in and for him to crawl in after me. He squirmed around, adjusting pillows and blankets and flipping through TV stations before he set the remote down on the nightstand.

"You all comfy?"

"Yep," he answered, grinning over at me.

"Good," I wiggled over to his side of the bed, and leaned over him, letting my lips brush across his a few times before I finally gently pressed into him. His eyes were still closed when I pulled back, the smile on his lips so peaceful and happy.

"What was that for?"

"For being so good to me. Thank you."

"Wait till you find out we're going to Alaska. You won't be thanking me."

"Don't need a passport for Alaska. And you're always warm, so as long as I have you to snuggle with, we'll be okay."

"See, there's that Yes Man attitude coming out in you."

I laughed and kissed him again. "Your fault. Bring it on."

"So..." he lifted the covers, taking note of my lingerie, a racy, lacy, barely-there set in hot pink. "Uhm... are those new?"

I sat up, throwing the covers back so he could see me. "I bought them yesterday. You like?"

JC's eyes were glazed over and only halfway open as they crawled from my neckline, down my chest and body to the tiny, very tiny panties. "Yeah. I'd have to say yeah, I like those... a lot." His eyes traveled back up, settling on overfull cups, erect nipples pressing against the tightly knit lace. It seemed to take forever for his hand to lift and land on one, lightly rubbing the skin and smoothing over to the other side and doing the same.

In one swift move, he gripped my waist and laid back against the pillows, roughly pulling me up and over him. A groan and a hip roll gave away his feelings of pleasure as I sank onto him, slowly rolling my hips against him, rigid and pulling against the fabric of his briefs.

"Mmm... someone's already ready. That didn't take long."

"Always ready," he choked out. "Fucking hot."

I chuckled as I moved, watching his face, running my fingers through his chest hair, feeling him move under me, his rhythm matching mine. His thumbs seemed to be plastered to my nipples, rubbing and flicking them through the fabric just barely covering them.  Frustrated, he started to pull at the cups and the straps. He wanted it off. I obliged, reaching behind to unhook the claps and let it fall. The straps slid down my arms and stopped halfway. JC helped, pulling them-- and the bra-- all the way off.

"You wanna ride?" His skin was pink, his breath coming in gulps and heaving bursts of air, fingers kneading and pressing and grabbing and squeezing. "I'm ready, whenever you are."

I took the hint: get the show on the road. I sat up, just long enough to roll my panties down and crawl out of them. JC pulled at his briefs, yanking them down and kicking them to the foot of the bed.

I giggled, watching his almost desperate, hurried movements. "Better hope you don't leave those behind."

"I'll buy more," he said, panting. "You ready?"

"Mmmhmm."  I nodded and lifted myself up and then lowered onto him, working my way down, and then back up and then down again, further and further until I was full of him. A long, satisfied sigh escaped him as his eyes slid closed. He held onto my waist as I moved, while my hips rolled and I bounced and gyrated above him.

JC let out a few grunts, timed with his breathing and my thrusts against him. "God, you feel good to me."

I didn't have breath or energy to respond. My brain was focused on the sparks building and climbing, swirling up from my feet, curling my toes, rocking my hips and arching my back. I had the uncontrollable urge to       slam up against him and ride the intense force of my climax to the end.

"Just go," he said, his body coated in sweat, his forehead creased, deep concentration in his face. "If you go, I go. Come. Please."

My body knew that sound, that tone of voice, that expression on his face, the way his hips rolled under me. That look in his eye and furrow to his brow, even the line across his forehead. The strength of his grip and how his fingers dug into me. It was time. I was never so happy to oblige.

I began to rock my hips, hard and fast against him, mentally thanking the Marriott for nailing their beds to the wall so the headboard didn't bounce off of it. It would only add to the noise, since we were vocal enough that our neighbors on either side would make no mistake. We were definitely having mind-blowing, back breaking amazing sex. And coming. Loudly. I dared them to say something.

JC grumbled a rough "fuck yeah" and then "oh my God baby,"  as his hips began to slow down. I was still convulsing, trembling, writhing, squeezing out every last possible drop. Finally at rest, heaving sharp breaths, dripping sweat, I only had strength to tip to the side and slide off of him, landing with an ‘oomph' next to him. I flipped to my back and tried to concentrate on breathing.

"That was... that was good. That was amazing," JC said, his breathing slowing, the pink in his skin fading.

"That was loud. Must have been good."

"I wasn't the only one. I hope we don't have neighbors."

I laughed, rolling my eyes. "I don't care."

"You don't care?"

"Nope. I hope they got their rocks off, listening to us. I hope it made them want to join us. "

"Oh, really?"  He leaned over me, dropping a kiss on my cherry red lips, chapped from hot breath passing over them.  "We will have to explore that, when I'm not light-headed. We should shower."

"Not unless you're up for another round."

The bed shifted as he bolted up and out of the bed. "Chop chop, missy. Let's go. Time's a-wastin'."

I laid there for a few seconds, laughing to myself. I was totally kidding, about another round. Somehow, watching him walk around the room, nude and semi erect, sweaty and happy, smiling and snapping his fingers, I felt like I could get a second burst of energy.

"Fine," I grumbled, rolling off of the bed. "But you get to ride, this time."