Christmas day and I can't help but feel like a child all over again.
Dad's still asleep after last night ended with a bottle of wine for each of us. It will probably end with more tonight. I start to cook us a Christmas morning breakfast of waffles, pancakes and a selection of some savoury bits. None of us have been much of a fan of large Christmas dinners and to be honest, can never find the energy to wait hours for a turkey to cook, so, we opt for a Christmas brunch to snack on throughout the day. As I'm getting everything ready, I send out a couple of Christmas messages to my friends and the little family I have, and also send one to Lucien. Just as I finish up with my messages, dad walks in and kisses my forehead.
"Merry Christmas pet."
"Merry Christmas dad", I hug him back.
He makes himself a coffee, and we get started on our festive breakfast. Whatever we don't eat, we bring over to the living room and place on the coffee table.
"Do we open our gifts to a Christmas movie or Christmas music, that is the important question", dad asks me.
"Movie, preferably something we've already watched 100 times this month so we don't want to pay any more attention to it."
"Great idea pet", dad laughs putting on whatever they have playing on the tv.
I moved my flowers this morning, so they no longer occupy underneath the tree but the window sill in the kitchen and the window sill in the living room. I had to separate them into two vases and only did so because I was worried, they would wither away without any water or sunlight. There's also a rose from the bouquet now drying and pressed between two pages in my journal. At 26 years old I received my first rose from a man. This is not to say I didn't receive a plethora of get well soon flowers after my accident, but for some reason, none of them have meant as much as Lucien's ones did.
I sit myself on the floor, my back leaning against the sofa as dad pulls out the four presents under the sofa. "You go first", I tell dad, not sure how much longer I can keep it a secret. He unwraps the bigger box first and underneath it reveals a remote control F1 car.
"Oh, my, my, I love it, I'll be playing with this in the office instead of doing work, thank you darling", he says as he goes in for a hug.
"That's not the gift."
"What?" my dad says in confusion.
"Open the box!"
He does as I say and as he removes the car from the packaging, a piece of folder paper drops out. I watch him as his eyes skim the paper and he looks up at me and I start nodding.
"Next year, Silverstone, me and you", I say, unable to form sentences from excitement.
My dad starts to cry. Ever since I could remember, a lot of our weekends were spent watching F1 on the TV but somehow, despite my dad's long love for the sport, he has never watched a race in real life. After my first pay check, I hunted down the best seats. It's worth it, to see this look on my dad's face right now and to also have him experience a race, have both of us experience a race together for the first time.
He comes over and hugs me, and I find my cheeks wet as well with tears.
"Thank you so much darling, I love you so much. I'm so proud of you", my dad says.
"I'm proud of you too", I sniffle back. "I can't believe you thought the car was the present", I joke back as we come out of the embrace.
"I still do like the car", he says.
YOU ARE READING
The 18th Floor
RomanceLooking for a job isn't easy, especially when 26-year-old Cyrene is in a wheelchair. Graduating from uni late and trying to enter the industry, Cyrene is finding out how hard life can be, not to mention how unaccommodating some employers have been u...
