Break of Day

20 : The Only Present I Wanted

There are few things I am positive about in this life: spiders are the only creatures corrupt enough to harbour demons without killing themselves; I love my friends and family with every atom in my body; kangaroos are moral- less assholes; and if I ever have to write the word vampire again after this paper, I will turn myself into a damn statistic.

Multiple statistics perhaps.

The gentle thrumming at the door timed too perfectly with the playlist Carlton had burned into the CD— inspired partially by Mimi, Molly and Graham— for the last few beats of the song. Pulling my headphones from my ear, I turned, my face lighting as Dad held my pink Marie cup out to me. From where he leaned against my door frame, I could see the marshmallows embellishing the whipped cream Sarah taught him how to make.

Likely, the whole thing was Sarah's recipe.

Her cocoa and whipped cream was what I thought heaven tasted like.

"Willing to take a break for Christmas, kiddo?" His voice was still gruff with sleep as he moved further into my room, placing the warm cup into my outstretched hands. "I thought Theodore helped you finish what I couldn't."

Warm engulfed my taste buds as the smooth liquid filled my mouth, drawing ghosts of memories from my soul.

Warm nights leaning against Sarah, eyes dropping as she spoke, her voice like a melody; rising with the scenes and dipping low, and conspiratorial. She was like a siren, able to match her voice perfectly to whatever she wanted you to feel.

Chilly afternoons as the rain poured, wind splintering against the frame of the house as we giggled with Dad. He was the best at making shadow people with his hands. Mare and I would help him come up with the stories.

It wasn't just her cocoa that could fix any ailments, any heart breaks, any fears, it was anything she made. She was a miracle worker in anything she did. I doubt there will ever be a day I don't miss her.

I feel for Russ and Kara. They lost their mother and sister.

Charlie lost his wife and daughter.

There are no words for when a parent loses their child.

With a heavy sigh, I rose to my feet. "Mostly. There are a few things I need to finalise and there is something missing on the thirty-second page that I can't quite figure out," I grumble, leaning into his side, allowing him to wrap his arm around my shoulder. "It just feels so disconnected."

"I think presents will help you figure it out," he hummed, leading me towards the stairs. "I know for certain, you will love two of them very much. I tried to get a couple more, but they won't arrive until much later—" he pressed a kiss to my head before pulling away, descending the stairs before me. "Shipping is hell in this economy, you know."

With a hum, I followed him. "How much did you spend, Dad," my laugh mingled with my sister's as she greeted me at the bottom of the stairs. Her thin arm wrapped around my waist as we moved to the couch.

Surprise darted through me like a firework when I spotted Theodore standing near the Christmas tree, Jamie's jacket in hand. His smile was warm, dimmer than the one he gave without a thought, without reservations. The attractive man standing at his side, one hand clasping Theodore's shoulder, nodded to me.

"We don't mean to invade, but I'm a bit cheaper to help move the presents from the airport," his voice was melted honey, smooth and lovely. Any word out of his mouth would sound delectable. He looked like he should be on our television screen rather than standing in my living room. Though his features were soft and there was a gentle comfort to his presence, a deep, primal part of me knew that he and Theodore were indeed kin. The warmth to his face emanated from deep within him, dimming some of itching fear to flee.

The lovely woman with her hand clasped in his grinned at me and I knew immediately who she was. I have never met her, nor heard any description of her appearance, but she was indubitably Clarisse, Theodore's aunt. The ethereal woman who would give him tea for me to try in the mornings or sent him with little candies for me to try. She did not look like what I had imagined, but everything about her made sense: the depth in her grey-green eyes; the crows-feet that never faded— a testament to a woman who gave away smiles like they were wishes—; the lines surrounding her mouth that told me of endless laughter and joy; the line between her brows that whispered the ghosts of frequent worries and deep concentration. She was a woman who was created to love and love everyone sincerely. Her love was deeper than the vast ocean and gentler than the purr of a cat. Everything Theodore had ever told me about his aunt bore true in the lines of her face, the light of her eyes, and the way she held herself. "Aaron is responsible for the gift, but we like to think we played a pretty big part in it," her voice was a lullaby, warm and gentle. She could soothe any fear, any argument. There was nothing about her warmth that warned me away.

Gasping, I stared at Mare as she removed my cup from my hand.

"I don't think you'll want to be holding this for your first two presents, Leia." Mischief shone in her warm brown eyes as she took a few steps back.

The sound of crumpling wrapping paper echoed through the room as a chubby face brunette raced towards me. Her small body slammed into me as she squealed, "Merry Christmas, Awa!"

The glowing face of a familiar blond, followed soon after, wrapping paper haphazardly strewn across her. A matching bow to Allie's in her hair: Lexi!