Born to Make You Smile

TWENTY-FIVE

I found Christmas to be the most difficult holiday to endure after Mom died. Everything made me miss her. The happy families. The TV specials. The classic movies. Every time I’d hear a Christmas song, I’d think of her, the way she’d sing along as we baked cookies together. For some reason, the smells hit the hardest. So many scents brought me straight back to those happy memories we shared, like a teleportation device.

We’d visit my mom’s cousin up north in Orillia on Christmas Eve, but Christmas Day was just for us. Our special day. My mother and I would get up early, open gifts, then make French toast together. She’d always use this really decadent brioche bread and add plenty of cinnamon into the egg mixture. Then she’d cut the French toast into strips to be dipped in homemade preserves. So many different types—cherry, peach, blueberry, raspberry, mandarin. I had attempted to continue the tradition on my first Christmas morning without her. However, I’d broken down while mixing the eggs and couldn’t attempt to try again until years later.

On Christmas Eve, I made my way to the Brinley residence with gifts as well as a homemade chocolate cake log and a tin of Gavin’s favorite gingerbread sugar cookies. I offered to bring food for dinner, but Gavin had assured me he had everything taken care of. God, I prayed he didn’t attempt to cook. Worst case, I had an emergency lasagna stashed in my freezer.

The second I walked through the door, Charlotte and Mackenzie ambushed me with hugs, taking the gifts from my hands to place under the tree.

“You look stunning, love,” Gavin said. “Like an angel.”

I blushed.

I wore an off-white sweater and black pants. The sweater was tight, fitted to my upper body to emphasize my assets. He looked very handsome himself in a tailored white dress shirt and gray slacks.

He leaned in close. I thought he was going to kiss me, but he stopped just shy of my mouth.

The four of us sat down to eat. My eyes grew wide when I caught sight of the food at the center of the table. Mashed potatoes with chives, steamed green beans, chicken cutlets in lemon sauce, and roasted ham.

“Did you enjoy the food?” Gavin asked after we finished our meal. “I can’t believe I finally learned to cook. It’s rather simple when you put your mind to it.”

I pressed my lips together to suppress a laugh. “Gavin. I’m no fool. You clearly had this catered.”

“Oh, bullocks.” He snapped his finger with a twist of his wrist. “You caught me.”

“You really think I wouldn’t be able to tell? Catered food has a certain flavor and texture. But it’s delicious, and I really appreciate the effort. Especially how you put everything in serving dishes.”

After Charlotte and Mackenzie left the table, I put my hand over his.

He came close, inhaling me. “God, I wish I could kiss you. Hold you. More. But it’ll have to wait.”

“That’s okay. Being able to spend this special day with you and the girls means a lot to me.”

“I love having you here.” He smiled tenderly. “You fill this house with warmth again. A warmth I haven’t felt in so many years. I don’t know where I’d be without you, Grace.”

He gripped my hand tightly, and a stream of bliss flowed through me, head to toe. We shared a special connection. It was as if the universe brought us together after our losses to bring light to each other. To rescue one another from all the heartache that life had thrown at us.

As I peered into his eyes, the heaviness in my chest made it hard to breathe. At that moment, I could no longer deny my feelings. I wanted him in all the ways. I wanted him in my life. My future.

I was truly, madly, deeply in love with Gavin.

“Dad! Grace!” Charlotte shouted from the living room. “Come on, gifts!”

We pulled our hands apart and made our way to the tree.

When we walked into the living room, Charlotte and Mackenzie had their gifts before them, fidgeting, itching to open them.

I took in the Brinley’s grand Christmas tree in the corner. While artificial, the tree resembled a real spruce, decorated with soft white lights, red, gold, and silver balls, and various Christmas memories nestled among the branches—the many homemade ornaments crafted by the girls over the years.

Gavin and I sat on the sofa, leaving just enough space between us.

“Go ahead, girls, open your gifts,” Gavin said.

I watched as they excitedly tore the wrapping apart. They cheered and squealed as they opened each one.

I’d bought art supplies for Mackenzie, a pair of Doc Martin boots for Charlotte, as well as pajamas, socks, matching moon lamps, and glitter markers for both of them. I had to admit, I may have gone a little overboard this year with the extra money from the bonus. It was as if I couldn’t stop myself when it came to the girls.

They came to thank me, and I hugged them, one arm around each. Gavin flashed me a satisfied smile, as if he knew this was exactly where I belonged. My heart was full. I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I wanted to be with him and officially be a part of this beautiful family.

I went to the tree and picked up Gavin’s gift. A thin blue box. “Okay. Your dad’s next.”

Gavin opened his gift, and he beamed when he saw the tie inside.

“Grace, thank you. I love it!” he said with a smile. “So silky.”

The girls convinced him to try it on. He smiled at me as he placed the tie around his neck.

“It looks perfect,” I said, admiring him as he stood proud. He was so incredibly handsome. Every line, curve, and contour of him came together in perfect harmony and sent an unmistakable signal of love and desire for him. A man who had been in front of me for almost my entire life had become so irresistible that he made me short of breath. My heart fluttered so forcefully. It was as if I could see my entire future in his eyes. My forever. I knew these feelings were out of control. There was no way he felt the same. There was no way he wanted to endure it all over again —marriage, more children. I shook those naive fantasies away. I had to be happy with what we had, even if it wasn’t perfect.

“Grace, open yours now,” Charlotte shouted as they both ran up to the tree.

Charlotte came to me with a silver-wrapped box, and Mackenzie with a thin red-and-white-striped one. Mackenzie handed me a Christmas card, which the three of them had signed. Mackenzie had drawn some holly and turtle doves inside the card. It warmed my heart.

“The candy cane one is from us!” Mackenzie said proudly.

I opened that gift first—tore away the striped paper, then opened the box to find a beautiful cream cashmere sweater. I’d imagine a rather expensive sweater.

I held it up against my body. “It’s gorgeous! I love it. Thank you both so much!”

“I picked it out,” Mackenzie said proudly.

“No, you didn’t. I did,” Charlotte retorted.

“But I helped!”

“Barely…”

“ Girls, ” Gavin warned.

I let out a laugh as I grabbed the silver box next.

“That one’s from our dad,” Charlotte said.

Inside the large box filled with tissue sat a smaller box, wrapped in the same paper as the outside.

“Did you wrap this?” I asked Gavin with a smirk, fully knowing the answer.

“Course not.”

“I did!” Charlotte shouted proudly. “Dad didn’t even try.”

I laughed as Gavin leaned back against the couch, crossing his arms over his body. “I know my strengths. And my weaknesses.”

After tearing the wrapping away, a black case was revealed. A jewelry case. My heart stuttered.

I ran my thumb over the soft, velvety surface before opening it. I stiffened when I caught sight of the diamond tennis bracelet inside. There were so many diamonds, it just about blinded me. It was beautiful, no doubt, but an ornate gift like this made me uneasy.

“Wow,” I said through a forced smile, trying not to appear conflicted. “Gavin...this is stunning.”

“Do you like it?” His eyes gleamed.

I nodded, blinking. “Yes. I love it. Thank you.”

“Here, let me put it on you.” My hand was a bit shaky as he undid the clasp and put it on my right wrist.

“Wow, Daddy, that’s so pretty!” Mackenzie exclaimed.

“Yeah, Dad, that’s…nice.” Charlotte glanced at Gavin and me with a flicker of suspicion. “Really nice.”

Tilting my wrist side to side, I admired the glistening diamonds under the light. I wondered how expensive it was. For a second, I was tempted to peek into the case and see if a receipt was hidden in there. It occurred to me that this must be the jewelry from the receipt I’d found in his office. Thinking back to the price, I held back a gasp. Why would he have spent all this on me, not just now, but back then? Did he have these kinds of feelings for me all those months ago? What if he’d originally bought it for Michelle before they broke up, but it was too late to return, so he gave it to me instead? It was definitely more her style than mine, something she would have loved.

My mind was spiraling, as usual. I didn’t want to seem ungrateful, but everything about this gift didn’t sit right with me. The ridiculous cost, the fact that it likely wasn’t picked out for me. As if I was a second choice. A backup plan. So many reasons I wanted to give it back.

“Gavin,” I said with a wince. “While I love the bracelet, I don’t think I can accept it...”

He leaned in, his breath against my ear. “Of course you can, love. Merry Christmas. You deserve to be pampered.”

***

On my first Christmas without my mom, Dorina graciously invited me over to her parents’ house for Christmas Day lunch. I wasn’t the greatest guest that year. I cried. A lot. But Dorina fed me and held me in her arms. And slowly over the years, with her help and love, I came back to life.

From day one, the Marcano family welcomed me and treated me like their own. Dorina’s cousin Marta even started speaking to me in Spanish one year but quickly remembered I didn’t understand a word when she asked me about work, and I answered, no gracias .

The Marcano’s served a feast—ham-olive raisin bread, several types of salads, and a huge pork roast. There was also hellaca , a tamale-style Venezuelan tradition. Corn dough filled with pork, chicken, olives, capers, and raisins rolled up in a banana leaf wrapped in twine. Akin to a little Christmas gift to unwrap. A delicious mix of sweet and salty. Honestly, the best thing in the world.

Every year, I brought a pasta bake to add to the spread and felt pleased when it was always devoured by the end of the meal.

After dinner, they served ponche de crema , a type of egg and cream drink with way too much brandy, as well as cakes, cookies, flan, and papaya candy.

The house was filled with so many relatives and people I didn’t know. It was chaotic and loud, and I loved every moment of it.

After we finished dessert, Dorina pulled me aside.

“Come upstairs,” she whispered. “I want to give you your gift.”

I followed her up to her childhood bedroom. It looked exactly the same as when we were teens with the charcoal-gray walls, fuchsia pillows, and throw blanket. Shimmery gold decals behind her bed, her name in cursive, and a princess crown on top of the D .

She opened my gift first. It was nothing special. Three new thriller novels and a vanilla fig candle. “The woman at the bookstore helped.”

“Grace. Thank you! I love them. I can’t wait to dig in.” She put the novels on her bookshelf and the candle on her dresser. Then she came back to the bed, holding a red box with a silver bow.

“Here!” She clapped and bounced on the bed excitedly. “Open it!”

As I unwrapped the gift and opened the box, I caught sight of what was under the delicate white tissue paper.

I couldn’t breathe.

The black gown. In my size.

“Dor.” Emotions hit me all at once, and my tears welled. “I can’t…this is too much.”

I reached out and hugged her tight.

“It’s nothing,” she said into my hair. She pulled back and held my hands. “You need this dress. For as long as I’ve known you, you always treated me like a princess. Now it’s your turn.”