Change is good, unless it isn't

Chapter 21

She slowly stirs as the sun peeks through the blinds and pulls her awake. Momentarily caught off-guard by the arms wrapped around her, her body goes rigid until she remembers just whose arms those are. Relaxing once again, she scoots closer into the crook of Normani's neck and inhales deeply—breathing in the scent, taking the in the comfort of just being with Normani.

She lightly kisses Normani's neck and then again, and again until there's a small groan. "Dinah," Normani half whispers, half whines. "It's early."

"But it's Christmas," she replies, pulling back slightly to look at Normani's still relaxed face. "I really can't believe I forgot."

"Not your fault." Normani slowly blinks open her eyes and gives a small shrug. "We didn't even have time to put up a tree this year."

And that was true. With work and the visit to Nebraska—and the almost two weeks Dinah had pushed herself away from everyone—they really hadn't had the time to even get in the Christmas spirit, much less put up a tree.

"That's okay," she says, reaching out to softly trace the contours of Normani's cheek with her fingers. Mornings with Normani are some of her favorite things. Normani was relaxed, unguarded, and almost-vulnerable—things that Normani rarely ever let show at any other time. "We're still going to your mother's later, aren't we?"

"Yeah," Normani replies, "but I'm sure we can still get a tree if you want one. I think I even have a box of old lights and stuff at my place."

~~~~

She pulls out the colored lights from the package—Tanner refusing to let her buy the white ones this year—and sets them on her son's lap so he can attempt to untangle them. The tree is green and as tall as she and, unfortunately, in four pieces scattered around the living room floor.

The live one last year had made Tanner's nose run and eyes water to the point of him nearly being miserable, and she didn't want that for him this year—not now that he was nearly four and could really, truly enjoy the holiday and all the traditions that came along with it.

Tanner watches as she quickly puts it together and begins to pull apart the branches to cover up any gaping holes, and drops the cord of lights—that are now more tangled than before—to help her.

"Mama," he says as he walks up to stand next to her, "Can we get a little tree next year?"

"Little?" She looks down, smiling at the little corduroy pants and reindeer sweater he still had on from taking pictures earlier that day. "Why do you want a little tree?"

He frowns as he reaches up above his head to pull apart two of the fake branches. "I can't reach like you can."

"I can see how that would be frustrating," she concedes, still smiling as she picks him up and rests him on her hip. "Is that better?"

"Yeah," he smiles, reaching out to help her with the upper branches. "Will Santa bring me a bike this year?"

Biting her lip, she tries to think of an appropriate response. It was only last year that he had come home from daycare after watching a movie about Santa and started making out his 'list' on the drive home. He had been too excited to for her to refute it and, even now, she tries to say nothing that will make her son question Santa's existence without actually having to lie.

Since becoming a mother, she certainly has developed a knack for evading the truth without actually lying—something that definitely works in her favor when it comes to things such as this.

"Getting a bike this year is certainly a possibility," she settles on as she shifts him slightly on her hip, "You have been a very sweet boy this year."