Reviving December

Beautiful Crazy

Cade

Early November spoke of holiday promises all over Red Mire as people began to tuck away Halloween decorations and love festive Thanksgiving decode all around. As I crusades through town I noted bright colored signs and stores boasting of the best pre- Black Friday sales ever encountered. I smiled as I thought of my own mother, the queen of holiday spirit, was passing by the turkey and dressing ideal and headed straight for Christmas. My childhood home at last visit was decked out in silver, brown and red ornaments out the wazoo and she constantly - much to my father's chagrin - had Christmas carols playing. My own excitement was higher than most years past, since I would be escorting one Ms. December Dixon to all of my family gatherings. Over the moon didn't quite describe my mother's feelings on this, but it was close.

I took my time putting my truck in park once I reached my destination, savoring the cool air against my face. Another day had started at four this morning, helping birth a calf out in a field and then mending a broken fence. My whole body ached from the long day, however I wasn't going to complain. The key twisting in the lock was music to my ears. The scent of something delicious hung heavily in the air as I entered my home, my tired feet carrying me through the doorway at a faster pace than they had all day. I had forgotten December was supposed to be here tonight, a weekly dinner date of sorts that we had started doing - any night she was lighting up my home was one I looked forward to.

"December?" I called out upon not finding her in the kitchen, wondering where she was. Normally she was waiting on me at the dining room, tucked into the e-reader I had purchased to keep her from going stir crazy in the house alone. The object itself sat on the counter beside an open container of cherry tomatoes, page dark from not being used. I wasn't overly concerned, however it wasn't like her to not be hovering over something she was cooking. Upon my inspection if the rest of the house, even the two guest rooms, I began to worry a little. Where was she?

The sound of yapping hit my ears, and I wandered toward the noise. The sliding door to the back porch was slightly a jar, something I would've normally noticed had I been paying closer attention. Flat on her bottom, legs spread to welcome a golden puppy, was December, cooing over the yapping dog. My guy twisted pleasurably at the sight. Her golden hair was falling in waves carelessly down her back, swaying over the faded letters of a borrowed T-shirt. The dog nipped at her fingers playfully as she sat there, her light laugh twinkling in the fading sunlight. My pulse sped up as I listened to it, basking in the glorious notes. This was some of the December I remembered. My chest tightened as it occurred to me that in the months that she'd been visiting with Dr. Taylors, she'd slowly started to come out of the shell she'd built for herself and I was starting to see the woman that I'd been so in love with long ago. There were moments where the darkness still ate at her; days where she didn't respond to texts or calls, hours where when she was over talking to her was difficult because she just didn't want to share, but then there were these days where her clouds began to open up and I could see the rays of light that she emitted beaming through. I could live with both types of December, simply because my soul told me that deep down she was still the same woman I loved, the same one that made me weak in the knees with a single smile and my heart stop with a laugh — the bad days were moments to work through, even if it took an entire lifetime.

"Looks like you found a friend, baby." I remarked softly, trying to avoid spooking her. December's shoulders tensed but relaxed after only a moment, a shy smile my response when she turned to meet my gaze. Those normally stormy eyes were a brilliant blue, glowing with happiness, and I hoped deeply that it wasn't just the pup in her lap.

"You're home." It was a content sigh from her lips, a small smile that made me want to push the glass door open and cross the distance between us to press my lips against hers. I resisted, unsure that she was ready for that kind of intimacy just yet. A playful whine interrupted our moment, the puppy not enjoying the attention being taken. Her small giggle at the pups pathetic actions had my gut tightening. She was glorious. I stood there watching them play, simply basking in her beauty and joy, the time seeming endless, that is until the sound of a fire alarm broke our bubble. Instantly I remembered the food in the oven. Long strides toward the kitchen and a smoking oven had me yanking the door open to reveal dark chicken breasts. I grabbed for a kitchen towel to pull the pan out, ignoring the fact that it was damp until it was too late and my fingers were stinging with pain.