Because the Night

christmas day

Annabelle insisted that Diego sleep in the guest room that night. Never mind that her daughter and Diego were adults, or at least trying their very best to be. 

"She's still my baby," Annabelle said, interrupting the snuggle-fest that was occurring in her living room. "And you're still on my shit list." 

"Mom!" Lily exclaimed, half-laughing. Even though she's forgiven Diego—or was on the path to forgiving him—she was happy Annabelle was more reluctant. Her mom was on her side, no matter what. That might've been an even better feeling than having Diego next to her. Or maybe they were tied. Who cares, Lily thought—all I know is that today, I'm the luckiest girl in the world. 

When she was a kid, she'd gape at adults who said they didn't need any presents for Christmas. What's the day without a pile of ripped paper, and a pile of presents, like spoils from victory? Or presents for simply being yourself, and being loved? Now, sitting in that dimly lit living room, Lily felt like she had everything she needed. 

Reluctantly, Lily got off his lap, and motioned to lead him to the guest room. "Nope," Annabelle said. "I'll take you, Diego. I wasn't born yesterday, Lil." 

Lily rolled her eyes. "Night," is all she could think to say. He smiled at her knowingly. 

"Goodnight, Lily." She watched him walk down the hallway toward the tiny guest room, which was near the kitchen. It was worth watching him go, just for the feeling of knowing he'd come back. She literally sighed out loud, which Tex couldn't help but remark upon.

"He is something, that Diego," Tex said. 

"Yes. He is," Lily said, not quite knowing what he was getting at. 

"But being 'something' doesn't mean he can get away with anything. He better treat you right from here on out," Tex said. Lily knew what this meant. Tex was on her side, too—and that he was sticking around, with her mom. 

She went to bed that night and did not dream of sugarplums, but of breakfast the next day. Knowing that he would be there for her. That he fought for her. That he came. 

***

Lily woke up to the smell of Annabelle's french toast, a Christmas morning tradition. Normally, she'd trudge down in the same pajamas she'd been wearing, but this morning she tried to achieve a look that was between bedhead and put together. She wanted to look clean, but not like she was trying. She put on a blue robe and slippers, and managed to resist applying lip gloss. Chapstick would do. He'd still think she was kissable. 

She walked down the stairs, and everything was as it should be on Christmas morning. A pile of presents under their modest tree—a real one, because Karen insisted that the house, even the guest house, be decked out as a winter wonderland. Orange juice in a pitcher on the table. Coffee brewing. Her mother bent over the oven, removing a tray of french toast.

And no Diego.

"Mom?" Lily asked. 

"I made coffee,' Annabelle said. "And do you want bacon?" 

"Mom, is Diego here?" She was embarrassed to ask that, before saying anything else. 

Her mom turned around, hot from the oven. She wiped the hair off her forehead. "What, no Merry Christmas?"

Lily sighed and took a seat at the table. She staved off her anxiety by pouring a big glass of orange juice, and took a sip. "Merry Christmas, mom," she said. 

"You know, Lily, you have to have a little faith in him. If every time he's not where you expect him to be, will you think he abandoned you? Or changed his mind about this relationship?" Her mom started chewing on a piece of bacon. She was being way too nonchalant about this.