All This Time

18 ⦿ in which i spend christmas eve

December 24, 2010 5:00 p.m.

By the time we actually arrive back at the van der Waal's home the next day, it's close to dinner time. After checking out of the Woodland House cabin at Efteling in the morning, our journey home was slow and ambling, spent in frequent stops at picturesque spots wherever the three siblings thought Xander and I would like to take a picture. Only when my 16GB iPhone was perilously close to running out of storage space did Graeme get impatient and insist on reaching home as soon as possible.

"These pictures look great," Xander enthuses, his chin almost on my shoulder as he peers at the photos I'm flipping through.

My thumb pauses over a group selfie of all five of us. Our faces are pink and we're all huddled together, but the happiness on our faces is unmistakable. It's a nice picture and I decide to send everyone a copy.

"Graeme, can I get your number?" As she recites it, I type it into my phone's contact list. "Levi, Wolf?"

"Baby, I knew you wanted my digits," Levi says, winking lasciviously at me.

"Shut up." Graeme kicks the back of his seat.

"My car!" Wolf growls. But he catches sight of the small smile on my face and his face softens. "What do you want our numbers for?"

"So I can send you this picture." Even though he's driving and can't possibly see the image clearly, I hold it up so it's reflected in the rearview mirror.

After I get both brothers to give me their numbers, I send the picture off, along with a few others I think they might want a copy of.

My thumb slides across my screen, swiping pictures to the right in a dizzying blur. Barely paying attention, I'm stunned when a picture of Steven Albright smirks up at me. I remember this photo; a charity dinner hosted by Steven's mother a few months ago. His arm is around my shoulder as we stand by the hors d'oeuvre table, one of his hands outstretched to take the picture. My shoulders are tense and bunched up a little - probably because the too-tight straps of my dress are digging into my skin. Not a great night, I remember. Steven had barely paid attention to me all evening, flitting from CEO to politician to socialite with the ease of a butterfly.

Without thinking about it, I press delete. He made his choice when he cheated on me.

"We're home!" Levi says, straightening in his seat.

Outside my window, the village comes into view, snow-capped roofs and cheery lights glittering. It's barely five but it's already dark out. Gray skies, thick with clouds, loom over us. The sun is long gone. It's hard to believe I could have been in Florida right now.

Wolfram slows down when we pass a speed limit sign, taking curves gently with both hands on the wheel. "I'm glad to be home." He reaches down to turn the radio off once the house comes into view.

"You can say that again," says Graeme, yawning. Her head droops onto Xander's shoulder like a sleepy child's. "I missed my bed. That mattress was terrible for my back."

"It was fine," Levi argues. "You're like that princess who felt the pea even under a dozen mattresses."

"Finally someone acknowledges that I'm a princess," Graeme says, grinning like the cat who ate the canary.

The car grinds to a halt against the pebbled drive and Wolf turns the engine off. On cue, the front door opens and Humphries begins his clipped walk down the steps.

Waving the butler off, Wolf opens the door and says, "We've got things covered, Humphries!"

Still, the butler sticks around. Once he's ascertained that none of us are struggling with our bags, his posture relaxes. "I'll just let Madame know of your arrival."