‘Ladies and gentlemen, we'd like to welcome all passengers to flight 1152, Los Angeles to Vail with a brief stop in Denver. At this time we'd like to begin boarding Zone A passengers. All Zone A passengers, please have your id and boarding pass ready.'

I stood as the boarding call crackled overhead, the phone cradled between my ear and shoulder. "Mkay love, that's me. I gotta go."

"You'll be alright, it's a short flight. Call me when you land."

"I will. Thanks for talking me down. I knew I could count on you. Love you."

"Love you, honey."

Few things could get me to willingly board an airplane. I'd go on an assignment if I had to, but I wouldn't do it willingly. I'd have to really love the person I was about to see, to choose to board an airplane and fly somewhere. JC qualified. So did my nephews. And my grandparents. And my parents. Knowing I would see all of them at once ignited an excitement within me that I hadn't had in a long time. I missed that feeling. I missed them all.

I was so homesick and pining for my family that by the time the boarding call came, I was hulking around the ticket counter and pacing back and forth. I had to call JC just to have something to distract me from the seesaw of nerves and then excitement and then more nerves. 

As soon as I was cleared to board, my tattered suitcase and I marched down the jet way and onto the plane. The entire passenger manifest passed by, wandering slowly down the aisle as if they didn't have anywhere they wanted to be. It took everything in me to not stand up and stomp my feet in a spoiled tantrum and demand that everyone hurry up and sit the hell down so we could go!

No sooner had the plane begun to pull away did the paralyzing fear mount inside my head, my heart, and reverberate through my body. "Relax, relate, release."  I repeated the mantra that JC had taught me over and over to myself, all the way through the take off and ascent. Only when I heard the wheels tuck into place underneath the plane could I relax. As soon as the attendant pushed her cart into the aisle, I ordered a mini bottle of wine and braced for the three hour flight.

Shaken but not broken, I climbed off of the tiny, rickety puddle jumper that I had to take from Denver to the Eagle County Airport in Vail. I was couldn't possibly walk fast enough toward baggage claim and when I saw my dad's stiff, closely cropped head of curly blonde hair floating above the crowd, I almost burst into tears.

"Daddy!"  I almost screamed for him but I was too choked up. He heard me, though. He always heard me. His head perked just a little higher, wildly whipping around as he turned in a circle. "Over here! Here!"

I waved my arms like a freak, rushing toward him. I saw by the glint in his eye that he saw me but pretended not to.

"Where?"  He made a big show of looking around, above my head, even though I was now standing in front of him. "Where's my sweet pea?"

"Here, daddy. Here!"

He looked down, then, with a broad smile and opened his arms. I fell into them and knew in seconds that the nerves and excitement and everything it had taken to get to him had been worth it. I almost broke down, I was so relieved.

After a long, tight, overdue hug, he pulled me away from him and just stared, grinning like a fool. "Wow, it's good to see you. Feels like it's been forever. You look good. Tan."

"I feel good. I'm so happy to see you."

"You too, sweet pea. Let's get your bag. Everyone's at the house waiting. The boys are bouncing off the walls and asking for Aunt Serena every ten minutes. Driving me crazy, like their dads used to."

We picked up my suitcase from baggage claim and I followed my dad to the four wheel drive truck that we'd been using for years when we came to Vail. It rumbled reliably along the winding two lane highway, past the resorts and sprawling hotels and ski slopes. The snow looked fresh, a fluffy powder. In the distance, I could see skiers coming down the hill, and the gondola slowly climbing its way up.

I knew this route like the back of my hand. Twice a year, every year, for as long as I could remember we'd come to Vail. Golf summers and ski winters were welcome and needed escapes from the bustle of city living. I hadn't even fully immersed into LA life yet and I was already stressed out-I needed this time more than anyone could ever know. I watched the scenery roll by, deep in thought as my dad rambled about the trip so far. The one person that would make this vacation complete would arrive in just a few days, and then I hoped that he, too, would be able to bask in the glow of the sun reflecting off of the snow.

The truck made a turn onto a wider paved road and lumbered through a thicket of trees that opened to frame a mountainside home. It was large and rambling but the grandparents refused to move. "Where would everyone come for holidays, if we moved?" Gram would ask. "Don't be silly, I won't think of it." So they stayed in the giant house at the base of the hill, in view of the slopes in the winter and the golf courses in the summer.

As soon as the truck was in park, the front door opened and my mom, my brothers, and nephews tore out of the house, headed straight for us. I hopped out of the truck and met them in the driveway. My mom was the first to reach me, nearly strangling me with her hug.  My boys were so happy to see me, jumping up and down and screaming, ‘Aunt Serena is here! Aunt Serena is here!" They had endless questions about California and asked where JC was. "He's with his family in Florida," I explained. "He'll be here after Christmas."  

In no time at all, I was comfortably flanked by family in the spacious living room, well-lit by floor to ceiling windows that spanned an entire wall. The Christmas tree- a gigantic pine that had to have been at least ten feet tall- twinkled in a corner and filled the room with the unmistakable scents of the holidays-evergreen and peppermint. The boys played a game on the TV to amuse themselves but weren't much further than earshot. Chloe found her way into my arms, which made me happy because I wasn't sure she'd remember me. My grandmother did what she did best, making a fuss and asking me over and over if I was hungry or if I was thirsty or if I was tired and did I want to rest for awhile?

"I'm fine, Gram," I said finally, tightening my free arm around her slight shoulders and laying a cheek on top of her silver head. "I'm fine. I'm happy to be here. I missed you guys so much! Where's Gramps?"

"Oh, he's back in his study. Likely, he didn't hear all the commotion. Why don't you go back and get him and we'll have lunch?"

Grandpa's favorite place on earth was among his books in the study where he spent long hours reading. I rounded the corner into the dark room illuminated by a single antique lamp and smiled at the familiar book that lay open in his lap. Walden, the story of a man who lived simply in a wood cabin on a pond, was one of his favorites. 

Grandpa was nearly deaf, and in his old age his bones had become brittle and his muscles had atrophied. He was relegated to a wheel chair, but his mind was still sharp and thankfully his eyes hadn't completely failed him. I tapped him lightly on his shoulder and he jumped, his head jerking up toward me. In the next instant, his face drained of all fear and shock, replaced by joy and surprise. A wide grin spread across his face as he pulled his glasses away from his eyes and wheeled himself away from the small table.

"Well, if it isn't my granddaughter and great granddaughter!" His voice was so slight and shaky but still full of mirth. "I like to see my girls together. I wish that your Aunt Grace had come from Europe." Chloe seemed oblivious to a long, bony finger poking at her round belly. She simply cooed and reached toward the giant wheel of his chair.

"Hi, Gramps," I said, greeting him with a kiss on his cheek. "Gram says it's time for lunch Want to give Chloe a ride while I wheel you to the living room?"

"Put that little munchkin on my lap, and we'll take a spin." I set Chloe into his lap and he circled her with thin arms. She settled against him and when I began to roll the chair back so I could turn him around, clutched at his arm and squealed. "Not too fast, now," Grandpa chided as he began to roll toward the door. "Don't want to send the child flying down the hall."

"She won't go flying. I'm not going that fast. How are you, lately?" I had to bend toward his ear to talk to him, which kept our pace slow.

"Well, I'm old. That pretty much covers it, I think. Still alive though. Take that, Father Time!" He laughed and punched at the air with a finger.

Time was a blur, melting day into night. We talked and we laughed, we ate and we drank, we watched movies and told stories and caught up on gossip. My grandparents retired to their room- still early but later than usual for them. The boys and Chloe went down soon after, and my parents after them, leaving us "kids" to do what we always did on vacation--  stay up late playing games, talking, and indulging in a few drinks.

"So," I mentioned, as coyly as possible, "Did a huge box show up for me, around...yesterday or so?"

"Yep," Chris answered, gazing at his poker hand. He selected a card and slapped it onto the table. "It's in the garage. Whatcha get me?"

"It's JC's Christmas present."  All eyes were on me the moment I mentioned him. I was surprised at how they managed to not bring him up all day. "What?"

"Well, what did you get him that had to be shipped in that big of a box?"

My heart leapt at the thought that the box was big. All the better for presentation. Smug, I concentrated on the cards in my hand. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because we're nosy," Garrett said. "Spill."

"You'll find out when he finds out." Groans rang out around the table but I laughed but ignored them and played a card.

"So things are good, with JC? And how's LA?" Kim was asking, in that way she asked things without trying to pry.  Most everyone either tiptoed around the subject or were way too interested. Kim was the complete opposite, rarely asking questions and didn't even seem to be listening when I talked about him.   

I gave my usual cautious nod. "Things are pretty good. Different. We're working through it, though. It's just weird being there all the time but he's never home, so..."

"Well, if he's never home, what do you do all day?"

‘Sit in the house and mope about how he's never home,' I thought to myself, but said, "I find ways to occupy my time. I hang out with one of his friends, Lara. She's cool. And uhm, last week, I guess I was kind of bored and depressed. I ended up in this salon where his friend works-she's a stylist-- and had her dye my hair red. It was like... copper." I stopped to laugh. "Yeah, JC doesn't really like redheads. So, uhm...I dyed it back."

Chris cursed under his breath and lowered his cards to the table, face down. "Did he say that? That he didn't like it? Brave man, if he did. Stupid, but brave."

"Of course not. He gave me enough clues to figure it out, though. I didn't like it much either, after I realized he didn't like it. I was just looking for something different. That wasn't it. So, I went back to brown."

"It looks good." Andrea beamed a smile across the table. "You know what else looks good? My hand. We playin' or talkin'?"

Our game continued, the pile of dollar bills in the center of the table growing larger and the play becoming more vicious. I was and always had been bad at poker, so I wasn't even really trying. Just being with my family was fun enough, listening to the banter back and forth between Chris and Garrett and then husband and wife ganging up on each other. Very briefly, I was aware that I was the odd man out, the only one without a partner. I missed JC a lot, all of a sudden. It was very, very late by the time I pushed away from the table and stood up, stretching and yawning.

"Okay kids. I'm gonna call it a night. I forgot to call my boyfriend when I landed and I need to let him yell at me for a couple of minutes." I made my way around the table as they mumbled "good night".

On the way to my room, I swung a left and headed for the garage. I just wanted to see it, with my own two eyes. I opened the door, wincing at the loud creeeaaaakkkk that rang out. I snapped on the light and looked around, my eyes landing on an oversize box in the corner, standing upright against the wall and banded closed with zip ties.

He would likely know what it was-or have an idea-- once he saw the Fender logo emblazoned across the box but by that point, I wouldn't care. He'd given me so much, and provided for me in ways I never asked him to. Despite my discomfort with that, he did what was right. I could never thank him enough, but I hoped his gift would mean the world to him and remind him of me when he used it. Christmas was in less than a week. I couldn't wait!

I got back to my room and found the phone, zipped away into my carry-on bag. JC had called a few times and left a message. It was pretty late on the east coast, around 5am, so I sent him a text.

‘Hi. Forgot to call you. So sorry! I love you tons, miss you more, can't wait to see you. Call me tomorrow!'

I slipped into the bathroom, took a quick shower, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and pulled my hair back. Just as I was sliding into bed, my phone alerted to a new message.

‘I'm up. I need to hear your voice. Call me.'  My heart swelled and I almost squealed as the phone rang in my ear. After two rings, it picked up. I heard fumbling on the end other end, then a muffled, "gimme the phone!" and then, "fucker."

I smiled. Phone wars with JC and Tyler. "JC? You there?"

"Did you know he has you in his phone as sweet girl?"

I grinned, at that. Yes. Yes, I did know that. "Hi, Tyler. What are you doing up?"

"Partying!"  He was slurring and hoarse, signs of a long and rough night. "My body doesn't know what time it is, here. What are you doing up?"

"Losing my ass at poker. You should meet my brothers; I think you'd like them. So, I hear you're up for Parent Inspection next week?"

"Yeah." He sighed, his tone of voice changing, becoming deeper and more lucid. "Her dad is a retired Marine or something. If he hates me, he can have me killed and make it look like an accident."

I laughed, at that. It was impossible to not like Tyler Chasez. Unless, I supposed, he was having sex with your daughter. "Tread lightly, soldier. Just be yourself. Only nicer. And way less vulgar. Allison loves you, so they'll love you."

"Hope so. I guess I'll give him the phone. I'm getting attitude. Merry Christmas and shit. See you next year."

More fumbling, light banter and a door closed in the background. Then a sweet, silky voice filled my ear. "I am furious with you. I've been calling all day."

I cringed, groaning in response. "I know. I totally got wrapped up in seeing everyone and I forgot to call. I'm sorry. Forgive me?"

He inhaled deeply and heaved a loud sigh. "I guess so. I'm easy, huh? I can't stay mad at you. So you made it. How are you?"

"I'm really good. It's so nice to be here with everybody. And you?"

"I hear that. I can't stop eating. Other than that, I'm good."

"Well, that's what the holidays are for, right?"

"I have a photo shoot as soon as we get back. I can't gain a bunch of weight right now."

I chuckled, sliding deeper into the bed, and then reaching over to snap off the bedside lamp.  The room was doused in darkness, lit only by the moon reflecting off of the snow. "Well, I'm pretty sure you'll burn it once you get here. In fact, I can promise you that."

"You're sure, huh? Pretty sure, even. Why don't you explain to me, in great detail, how that's gonna happen?"

"Dirty boy. I could have been talking about you playing with my nephews. I'm laying here in this bed of pristine sheets in my grandma's house in view of pure white snow outside the windows. Looks like a postcard out there. Where are you?"

"My sister's," he answered with a yawn. "Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"You know." I chuckled, quietly. "See? You're mean. I'm used to feeling that laugh while you're all squished up against me. I'm missing that. Missing you."

"I miss you, too. I can't wait to see you. I mean, I want you to spend time with your family but I really can't wait until you're here."

"Wish I was there, right now. I can't even imagine how good you look in the moonlight." He sighed, his breathing breaths growing slower, deeper. "So, did you talk to your mom about, you know... where I'm sleeping?"

"My mom said she'd talk to my grandma about it. I'll ask in a few days. No promises but I think I can swing her my way."

"Okay. I mean, I don't want to cause any tension or anything..."

"Don't worry about it, baby. I'll take care of it and if we can't share a room it won't be the end of the world. It'll just make our hotel room in Denver that much better. Right?"

"Yeah. I guess." He yawned, loud and long. "All of a sudden I can't keep my eyes open. I guess I was just waiting to hear from you."

"Well, now you've heard from me. Go to sleep. We'll talk tomorrow. I love you."

Something that sounded like, "love you too," came from the other end before the line went dead. At least he hung up before he fell asleep.

####

It snowed, Christmas morning. A heavy, wet snow that threw a fresh, white blanket over the property and spanned the house on all sides. The forest behind the house and the bushes that were planted along the driveway were all capped with a thick crust by early afternoon, and all of the outdoor furniture and common areas-the patio and deck, the tables and chairs-were covered in snow as well. The boys couldn't wait to get outside, rushing through opening their presents and pulling on coats and hats and gloves. They rolled around, built snowmen and had snowball fights and ran up and slid down the hills around the house.

Normally, this would spell bliss. More snow meant better skiing, a magical day for the boys, and a reason to snuggle up in the living room in front of the fire, watching the reflection of the twinkling Christmas lights against the glass of the window pane. I stood at the window and watched the snow fall with worry, this time. I had to drive forty miles, in the dark, to pick up JC at the airport. If it didn't stop snowing, I didn't know if he'd make it in. Even if it did stop, there was no guarantee that the plows would be out in time to clear the roads. I was almost shaking with the fear that I wouldn't see JC.

"Your face will get stuck that way if you don't stop that squinting and frowning."

My grandmother, always a quiet walker, had snuck up behind me. Her apron was tied tightly around her waist and caked with the trappings of Christmas dinner. She squeezed my arms and came to stand beside me, taking in the view.

"Just watching the snow, Gram."

"Are you worried about your fella? If he'll make it in, tonight?" I nodded, blushing. Damn, I was transparent. "Well... worrying won't change things, so try to enjoy the beauty, hmm? Nice snow, this year. You planning to ski?"

"Probably. We'll see what the boys want to do."

I usually skied with my nephews at least once during the vacation, though lately they were into snowboarding, something I knew nothing about. Maybe we would take some lessons together. And then there was JC-I had no idea if he skied or snowboarded or sat in the lodge sipping wine and reading a book by the fire. I chuckled to myself at a mental visual of him wearing an argyle sweater that his mom probably would have knit for him, legs casually crossed, comfortably seated in a leather chair. He'd be wearing his glasses, of course, the gold wire rims reflecting the lick of flames from the fire, and those bright blue eyes would be wide with wonder while he spouted off some random facts from some boringly detailed book he was reading. I couldn't wait to sit next to him and roll my eyes through a long JC lecture. I sighed, watching the snow continue to fall, wishing and willing it stop.

"So, your mother spoke to me, a few days ago. About uhm... your boyfriend."

She tugged at my arm, pulling me back toward the kitchen, talking while she tied an apron around my waist and pointed toward pie tins and a ball of dough. I rolled up my sleeves and got to work, rolling out pie crusts. "She said that you preferred it if JC-that's his name, right? You want him to stay with you, in your room."

My heart nearly stopped beating as Gram was talking. She wasn't usually so open or forward. I had no idea what this meant, but her tone of voice was telling me wasn't at all pleased with the request. "Yes ma'am, it would be nice if we could," was all I could manage to say while holding my breath.

"You know how we do things in this house. We just don't believe in letting two kids shack up together in our home."

I turned, slightly. "Gram, we aren't kids. And we aren't shacking up in your home. You act like we're gonna-"

"Don't..." she shook her head, holding up a veiny hand. In our family, that meant shut up. "You don't have to be vulgar, Serena. I am not as old as I seem. I know that you and he... live together. Out in California. You sleep in the same bed, like you're married to him. Have you even discussed marriage with him?"

I nodded, slowly. Technically, we had discussed marriage. "We... we've talked about it a little. We haven't been together long enough to talk about that with any kind of serious intention, Gram."

She turned to glare at me, her brows furrowed so tightly that they seemed knit together, a fist cocked on her hip. "But you have been together long enough to live like you're married. Why would he marry you, child? You're giving away everything he should be trying to earn."

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Despite the fact that she was hopelessly conservative and old fashioned, she was doing a great job of reinforcing my own thoughts on the subject. I took out my frustration on the dough I was working, rolling the pin back and forth with fury.

"I'm not... giving away anything. JC and I have our issues, but earning my trust or my love or me taking care of him isn't something we have a problem with. He doesn't disrespect me. He doesn't expect what he's not willing to give. He is a good man and he has offered me more than any man has ever offered me, loved me more than any man ever has. We live together right now and yeah, he takes care of me like I'm his wi-"

My breath caught on the word. Wife. I hadn't ever realized it, before that moment, when the word almost slipped out of my mouth just as easily as anything else. I'd been avoiding ever saying it in relation to him, like saying it would make me want to be a wife. His wife.

I shook my head to clear it, to chase those thoughts away. I couldn't let myself go down that path. This wasn't nearly the time or the place. Not at my grandparent's house. Not at this time in my life.

I went back to the pie crusts, rolling them thin, though much less violently. "Anyway, he's always been very generous with me. He would give me the shirt off of his back if I needed it, and I wouldn't even have to ask for it. I waited a long time to meet someone like him. I waited a long time to meet him. I love him and I want you to love him but if your opinion of him will lie solely with the fact that I live with him and I'm not married to him, so we're living in sin or whatever, then I'm afraid that you're going to miss out on the best parts of him. Which is a shame, because he's a pleasure to know."

I was almost afraid to stop talking, because then it would mean she would respond. I'd never really talked back to my grandma, not like we were talking. She held the matriarch position with an iron grip and commanded the utmost respect. She was wrong about JC, though. And even if it meant her being angry with me, she was going to be set straight.

"Well then. I hope he shows them to me, these good parts," she said, stirring her various pots scattered about the stove. "I hope he shows me that he wants more from you than to share your bed at night and to take the best parts of you without offering something comparable in return. I don't want him to use you and throw you away. You're worth more than that, Serena."

Silence fell over the room. I chewed my lip blinking back tears of frustration and sadness and the realization that she was all the way wrong about JC. If anyone was using anyone and throwing them away, it was me. But I wasn't giving in. I wasn't even sure where Gram stood on the subject.

"I'll not pretend I don't want to see you do the right thing with this man," she said suddenly, breaking the quiet, awkward silence. I turned around in time to see Gram wiping her hands on her apron and then nervously twisting and untwisting it.

"But I... well, I don't want a repeat of the situation with your aunt Grace. She rarely comes home, now because we objected so strongly to Edward. We only wanted the best for her, a man that would respect her. I just simply can't imagine what they're teaching those children..." She paused, and then turned a light, pretty shade of pink. "Be that as it may, this is apparently how it's done, these days. He's already on the way, and things will be tense if I don't allow this, so...so, you and... him...your... friend. You may share your room. Please don't make me regret this."

I heaved a sigh of relief, a heavy breath escaping me before I could stop it. Shyly, she went back to fussing with her pots and pans, and then darted across the kitchen to check the oven. I watched her for a few moments, my respect for her growing by the second. She didn't want to let it happen, to give into the modern times of unmarried men and women sharing close, personal space. My happiness seemed more important than her stodgy, standard rule. I crossed the room and wrapped my arms around her shoulders from behind, catching her by surprise.

I laid a big smooch on the back of her head. "Thank you Gram. I love you."

"Well, let's not get all emotional," she grumbled, but not very strongly. She turned in my arms and hugged me back, squeezing my waist tightly. When she pulled back she looked up at me, her cool grey eyes locked into mine. "This boy. You love him?"

I nodded. "Very much."

"Your mother tells me he's a musician. A somewhat popular one?" I chuckled at the ‘somewhat' and nodded again. "Aren't you... well, don't you worry about wild behavior? Musicians are so... so bohemian and rebellious."

I burst into sudden laughter, trying to remember the last time JC had done something typical of a musician-he didn't even perform. He was far from bohemian, even his jeans and plaid shirts were designer. Rebellion and drama weren't his scene and the closest thing he had to an addiction was an ugly fedora and spotless white sneakers. And JC was quiet. Very quiet, not loud or brash or much of a showoff.

"Gram, believe me when I tell you that he acts more like my dad than my boyfriend. He's very good for me. You'll see. You will love him."

A timer went off behind us. I let her go, so she could check her simmering dishes. The scent of dinner kicked up nostalgia, reminding me of so many holidays, year after year, of standing in that exact spot in the kitchen, watching Gram cook.

"Well, those pie tins are not going to fill themselves with crust. Get back to work and tell me more about this Jason."

Oh, dear. We'd have to start at the beginning. "Well, first... his name is Joshua Chasez. We call him JC. Not Jason. I first met him a long, long time ago, back when he was pretty famous..."

*

CJ was JC's biggest fan.  Ever since the previous summer, when JC had come up to the Lake House and spent time with the boys, they always asked about him. Matthew and Devon adored him, but CJ idolized him and couldn't wait to see him. He followed me around most of the day, asking over and over when JC was coming. As the day grew longer and the sun began to set, CJ asked again when I would leave to pick him up.

"Soon," I said to him, pulling him close to me so we could look at the flight schedule on my phone. I still wasn't in love with the iPhone JC bought me but it was so useful in times like these, when I was obsessing over something.

"You said soon before." Tap tap tap. His little hand made soft patting noises on my leg. "Where is his plane? How much more sooner is he coming?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out, buddy. I'm trying to see if his plane is still coming." Please still be coming, I prayed to myself. According to the airline website, all flights were still on time. It must have stopped snowing early enough.

"Will you be okay riding by yourself? Do you want some company?" Andrea stood over my shoulder, glancing at the screen of the phone, drying her hands on a dishtowel. Dinner was over, and with some teamwork, the "kids" cleaned up. I needed something to distract me from watching the clock, but I finally couldn't stand it and had to check. And then check again.

"If you want to ride along, that'd be fine. I'll leave in a few minutes, in case the roads aren't clear enough." She nodded, rushing off to fix her hair, no doubt. I was on to her. She just wanted to see JC. Chris grinned wryly in my direction.

"You spoil her. First you invite him to Christmas-"

"I didn't invite him, he invited himself."

"-and now she gets to go to the airport to pick him up. It's a good thing I like him."

"He's not trying to steal your wife away. I promise, I'm plenty."

"Too much information about my sister," he declared, throwing his arms up in the air and walking out of the kitchen. Andrea came back down the hall looking the same except she'd brushed her hair and put on a fresh coat of lip gloss. She pulled her winter coat on over the blouse and jeans she'd worn at dinner.

"Try not to embarrass yourself," Chris muttered, elbowing her as he passed her in the hallway.

She used her glove to smack him in the arm. "You know I love you more than my luggage."

"You hate our luggage!" He called from around the corner. She laughed, standing at the door to the garage.

"Ready when you are, Serena." 

I pulled on my coat, grabbed my phone and the keys to the truck. My dad came around the corner then, rubbing his belly and rooting for seconds. "You want me to drive you? Will you be okay?"

"I'll be fine, daddy." I almost rolled my eyes, thinking I was on my way to pick up my other dad. "I'll go slow."

He seemed worried but dropped a kiss on my forehead and let it go. "Alright. Be safe."

There was laughter behind us as we left the house and climbed into the truck. As the garage door slid open, I cranked up the heat and let it run for a few minutes.

"I heard you talking to Gram earlier. About JC staying with you. What's the verdict?"

"Oh. She's gonna let my boyfriend share my room. So dumb I had to fight for that."

"I know. But... it's them. Chris and I had to go through that the first year, remember?"

I nodded, remembering seven years ago, the tension and the awkward glances every night when Andrea and Chris had to say goodnight and go to a separate room to sleep, despite having lived together for six months already. "After about three days, they gave in. We were engaged, even. Gramps had a long talk with Chris about it. You'd think they were a hundred years old."

"Mmmhmm," I nodded. "Gram pretty much accused me of giving away the milk for free. Like, did you just call me a cow?" We laughed together and then sighed at the same time. "It just makes me wonder if dating has changed that much, or are they just really behind the times?"

"A little of both, I'm guessing." 

The car was steamy warm, so I cut the heat and backed out of the garage, pressing the button for the door to close again before I continued down the driveway and onto the two lane county highway.

"So, I'm surprised JC is coming out here for Christmas. Doesn't he usually spend this time with his family?"

"Yep. Last year we hadn't really been together long enough to spend Christmas together. This year I guess he couldn't help it."

"I think it's sweet. I'm just surprised."

I drove more slowly than usual but the plow had been through, so the roads weren't as bad as I imagined they would be. I was beginning to relax. JC's flight was arriving on time. The roads were clear. I was less than an hour from seeing his face. 

"Do you think we'll be seeing any hardware? You know, of the sparkling variety? And that's why he's coming for Christmas?" I could hear the smile in her voice.  

"He's not proposing, Andrea."

"He could be-"

"Could be, but he's not," I interrupted. "We've talked about it. He's not. He's been teasing me with it for awhile, but..."

"But..."

"But...well, awhile back, like last summer when he came out to the Lake House? He said he didn't want to. This was after dad was like, really pushing him about it. So, I've been kind of going by that and not really listening to what he's saying lately because I always think your first thought is your real thought."

"But if he's saying something different now... I mean, you don't want to marry him?"

"It's not that at all." I struggled to find the right words, even for myself. I had a hard time pinning down my issues with our future.  If there even was one. "Talking about marriage with JC stresses me out. I love him and I want to be with him. I'm happy with how things are, right now. I don't need anything else from him. I think the fact that I'm not chomping at the bit to become Mrs. Joshua Chasez freaks him out."

I paused, listening to the sound of the wheels against the road, rumbling through the snow packed onto the pavement, pondering the loaded question.

"On my second trip to LA, JC decided I was his girlfriend. He didn't even ask me, he just assumed I would say yes. I lived all the way across the country. Our relationship would be long distance for sure, but he didn't think to ask if that's where I wanted us to go? When we talked about it, he said he was worried that I'd find someone else, someone local. Closer. He wanted to make sure he got me first."

"Do you think he's afraid to be alone?"

I laughed, my chuckle more bitter than intended. "No. When JC wants to be alone he has no problem closing himself off. Between coming home from our road trip a few weeks ago and today, I'll have seen him for... maybe four days? I feel like... I don't know, I feel when I finally give in to him, he won't be as interested in me anymore. I won't be a challenge anymore."

"Hunh. That's deep. But you didn't answer me. All that psychology aside, do you want to marry him?" 

Thankfully, searchlights from the runway came into view as we crested a hill and traffic picked up. I fell into the line of cars headed toward the small county airport. JC's flight from Denver was scheduled to arrive at 9:30. It was just after 9pm when I pulled into the parking lot and put the truck in park. I left the engine running so we'd still have some heat. The nights in the mountains were chilly.

"I don't let myself think about it, honestly." My voice sounded odd in the cabin of the truck. "I don't doodle our names together and I don't imagine a big, fat Greek wedding and I haven't named our kids. I just... I can't let myself go there."

"Most girls would kill to be in your position, Serena. You love him and he loves you and that's a logical step for two people who love each other. Isn't it?"

"Two regular people, yeah. When one of them is a celebrity..." I avoided her stare and stared at the landscape outside the window. The moon was high and full, the fresh coating of snow reflecting the light back.

"What does that have to do with anything? It's been a year. More than that. Aren't you past all that?"

"I think JC is used to getting what he wants, when he wants it. I think JC met a girl that was maybe a little bit different, you know? Not the typical girl he's used to. But I think novelty wears off, and when JC is tired of something or someone, he's done. That's it."

"And you think that means you? So you hold yourself back from him and what could be something amazing and wonderful and forever because you're afraid he's going to get tired of you and dump you? Because he's a spoiled celebrity?

She huffed an impatient breath and sat back in her seat, tossing one leg over the other and staring out the window on her side of the truck. "You need some time in on a couch yourself, sister."

"I know," I said quietly. I don't think she expected me to agree with her. I heard her open her mouth, but no words came. She closed it again, shaking her head. "But I didn't expect to feel this way about him. I didn't expect to fall in love with him or want to move to LA to be with him. I wasn't looking for... this... when I met him. I wasn't looking for anything. I went to LA one weekend and I let loose and had some fun. I met a hot guy, a famous one. I slept with him. I never do that! I never thought I would see him again."

"Okay, but you're not there anymore, obviously. It's way more than that now."

"I know, but...He wanted us to date, you know. He started calling me after I got back to Atlanta, and even when we first started dating, I never, ever thought it would go this far. I thought he'd make a couple of trips and get bored. But he didn't. He came to see me, I went to see him, then he came to see me... We had so much fun together, and he treats me..." I smiled, I couldn't help it. It was such a gold digger move, but I loved how he treated me. "God, he treats me so well. I've seen things I'd never be able to see if I wasn't with him. I've been places I'd never be able to go, if it wasn't for him. I couldn't help but fall in love with him. Except I got drunk and told him so. I never would have said anything otherwise."

I was rambling and not making much sense but I couldn't stop talking. Andrea had no choice but to listen.

"Look, I know I have issues. And I'm... I'm  gonna work on them. I am, because JC is the best anything and everything in my life and I know that. I never expected him to be, but he's everything important to me right now. I wish I could think of him in terms of forever. It's not that I don't want to." I paused, shrugged and added, "I just don't. And maybe I need more time, but I don't know that I can. But I really want to really enjoy it while it lasts. Suck out every last ounce of it before it goes away. Is that bad?"

"I don't know," she said quietly. "That has to be up to you two, I guess. But from my perspective, it's been a year, and JC is obviously long past fucking this really cool girl he met in LA one weekend. You still think you're groupie status. He wants to be your husband. You're asking me if that's bad that you can't imagine being married to the man you love, that loves you so much he's leaving his family to come spend the holidays with you? Has he ever done that with a girlfriend before?"

"I don't--" The dark cabin of the truck lit up with the bright light from the phone. It rattled in the cup holder, vibrating over and over. My heartbeat sped up as I read the text from JC.

‘Tiniest airplane ever has landed. Headed to baggage claim.'

"He's here," I told her, my voice shaking a little. I unsnapped my seatbelt and pulled the door latch. "I'm going in. Are you coming?"

She nodded her head toward the well lit airport, waving me off. "Go ahead. I'll let you say hi first." 

She didn't have to say it twice. I hopped out of the truck and rushed toward the automatic sliding doors, heading straight for baggage claim, my eyes peeled for him. He amazed me, sometimes. He was world famous but blended into wallpaper.

I caught a glimpse of him on the other side of the baggage carousel. I recognized his dark blue hoodie, zipped all the way up, his hands balled up in the pockets. Dark blue jeans. White sneakers. He'd shaved. Casual and unassuming. Beautiful.

I waved, trying to catch his attention but he was daydreaming, staring into space. I walked around the carousel and sidled up alongside him. Stretching up toward his ear I whispered, "Hey, sexy. Need a ride?"

"I'm taken," he said, not missing a beat, and then smiled down at me, a gorgeous smile from his eyes all the way down to his mouth. "Hi. You must have been sitting outside."

"Hi. I was too excited to wait at home. Andrea came with me."

"Oh, good. I haven't had someone staring at me in a long time."

His laughter filtered from my ear to my heart as he bent to kiss me, finally wrapping his arms around me, squeezing me tight up against him. I laid my head on his chest and just about purred with happiness.

"I missed you," I sighed into him. "It snowed all day. I was so scared you weren't coming."

"Of course I was coming. You thought I'd let some snow keep me from you?"

We stood together with our arms around each other, talking and waiting for his luggage. His suitcase came around on the conveyor belt, which was the only reason I let him go. He extended the handle and turned to me, an eyebrow cocked upward.

"Well? Move it, missy. I'm tired."

"You haven't even been off the plane an hour and you're already giving me shit?"

"You love it."

He followed me out of the doors and down the sidewalk to the parking lot. Andrea, now in the driver's seat, pulled out of the parking space and drove around to the front of the building, stopping right in front of us. "I'll drive, if you want," she said, leaning out of the window. "You two can sit in the back."

I realized then why Andrea wanted to come along. It wasn't so she could be the first to see him. It was so I could have a little private time with him before my family got hold of him. I climbed into the seat behind her and reached up to pat her shoulder. "Thanks," I whispered up to her. She nodded in response, her eyes on the rearview mirror. JC was back there, loading up his suitcase. He closed the rear hatch and then came around and slid onto the seat next to me.

"Hey, Andrea. Merry Christmas. Good to see you again."

"Hey JC. Merry Christmas." I almost laughed at how meek and shy she sounded. She put the truck in drive and we were on the way. My vacation-for real-had begun.

"Isn't that plane from Denver to Vail like scary small?"

JC groaned, lifting his arm up and letting it drop around me. "I think the pilot took off like the Flintstones. Just get a running start and then lift your feet up. Like the runway is downhill and he needs to get going, first."

"And you wonder why I'm scared to fly."

"Not anymore, honey." He leaned over me to check out the scenery outside the window. "Wow, it's so bright out. You know how long it's been since I saw snow?"

"Uhm, like a month? It snowed in DC. And New York, remember?"

"I mean real snow. Like, drifts of snow, like out there." He sat back, tapping his fingers against me to the beat of the light country music cracking from the speakers. "The boys like it?"

I nodded, saying, "Mmmhmm. They were out in it today. They built a snowman for you."

"Oh, really? I'll have to make sure to take a picture with it before it melts."

"Well, it'll be awhile before we get there. Pretty cold during the day. Even colder at night."

"Sounds good to me. Orlando is hot. Ready for some cool weather. You ski?"

"I was gonna ask you the same question. I think the boys want to snowboard. We might take some lessons."

"Cool. That'll be fun."

JC tapped my shoulder, twice. Just as I looked up at him, he dipped his head toward me so our lips met. I melted against him, leaning into the kiss, trying hard to kiss him without moaning but not doing a very good job. I couldn't kiss him like I really wanted to with Andrea in the front seat and in earshot. The kiss ended with me laughing and him leaning his chin on top of my head.

"You guys better practice being quiet," came the commentary from the front seat. "It's a learned skill.  Gram sleeps like the dead and Gramps is deaf, but there are reasons all the kids insist on sleeping downstairs, at the opposite end from Terry and Donna. They wake up at everything. We put the boys on that end, too."

"I guess I sleep through everything, too. I'm pretty sure, though, if I've ever woke up to one of my brothers having sex, I've blocked it out."

"Just as well." She glanced up and winked at us through the rearview mirror. "I promise to block out anything I hear, okay?"

I laughed, but my skin was glowing red-hot. "Thanks. Can we stop talking about this now?"

 (cont'd)