Rachel Stanton and The Darkest Night

EPILOGUE: CHRISTMAS GIFTS

EPILOGUE

CHRISTMAS GIFTS

I heard footsteps coming from the stairs. As it got louder, I knew it was coming closer to my room. The footsteps stopped, then someone knocked at my door.

“Honey!” a female voice called. Mom. “Get your gifts ready downstairs so that your dad can arrange them.”

“Right, Mom,” I answered, hopping off my bed and getting all three gifts—for Mom, Dad, and Charles—from my study table. “Coming.”

There was a short moment in which I grabbed a bag for the gifts before I walked toward the door and opened it. Mom was still there, her lips spread into a small smile and extending them when I smiled at her in the same way.

“Merry Christmas, Rachel,” she said, tilting her head to one side.

“Merry Christmas, Mom,” I replied.

She blushed at my answer. I heard a short chuckle producing down her throat. She took a deep breath, sighing heavily through his mouth.

“Shall we?” She gestured her hands toward the stairs. I bowed in answer and grinned.

“Sure.”

We walked downstairs with our arms crossed with each other, like we were best friends walking along the pathway in the school. Charles, who appeared outside his room, glared at us, his eyebrows pulled together and his lips pursed to one side.

“You look great together, huh,” he said while we took the last step of the stairs. “But I look better with Mom.”

I sighed, raising one eyebrow at Charles as he said that.

His lips suddenly pressed together into a line. “Just kidding. You look better with her than I am.”

Charles trotted toward the living room. Mom and I exchanged looks then raised our eyebrows together.

“I know we are, honey,” she murmured, chuckling softly that it was only us who could hear. I echoed the chuckle.

We stared at each other for a short moment. Mom cleared her throat then sighed. “Can you help me bring the food on the table?” she asked abruptly.

I nodded. “Sure,” I said. “I’ll just give this to Dad.”

Then I lifted the bag to emphasize. Mom grinned, and I walked to my Dad, who appeared to have staring at us for a very long time.

It was our family’s tradition to gift each other gifts when the clock ticked to twelve, signaling that it was already Christmas.

We gathered in the living room. Mom and I sat together on the long couch with our hands holding each other. Dad was in charge of the gifts. He went first to distribute his to us.

“Merry Christmas, sweetie,” he said as he handed me his gift. I smiled at him in delight, to show him that I appreciate it in advance.

Basically, we wouldn’t open it all until one was done. So when Dad told finished giving his last gift to Carmen, he told us to open the gifts now.

I unwrapped my gift slowly, my eyes looking at Charles’ as he scratched the wrapper. His gift was inside a box, I thought. I watched, then Charles stood up in surprise.

“Oh, yeah!” he said. “Running shoes. Great.”

I never knew Charles was a runner. I thought he was so slow at running he didn’t deserve to have that kind of shoes. Carmen clapped her hands, then she half-squealed in shock.