‘You do know it’s snowing,’ said Christa as she zipped up the coat.
‘We won’t be out for long,’ he said as he was helping the boys into their coats.
The party stood on the front steps and looked out into the dark night. There was a light dusting of snow on the steps and Marc wondered why he had thought even for a minute he would sell Pudding Hall.
The sound came first and then the sky glowed as the first firework exploded and the party clapped and cheered. The boys yelled as the Catherine wheels and rockets flew through the night sky. The sky glittered with fiery rain and then burst into peony-shaped flowers of pink and red and orange and blue until the last one fired into the sky and the night fell silent again.
‘Happy birthday, Christa,’ he said to her and she turned to him.
He wasn’t sure when everyone had left them alone on the steps, but all he knew was her lips were on his and he had never felt happier than in that moment.
‘You are so beautiful for going to all this effort for me,’ she said when she finally pulled away and Marc held her cold face in his hands.
‘That’s the thing, it’s no effort. I would do this every day if I could but I know you would hate it.’
Christa kissed him and again and shivered.
‘Inside. It’s freezing. And I have to put those kids to bed.’
*
Peggy and Petey said their goodbyes and held Christa close.
‘We are coming back for lunch tomorrow. Marc invited us,’ Peggy said.
‘Who is doing the cooking?’ asked Christa.
‘He has someone apparently, a chef whom he paid huge money to so you don’t have to cook, he said to me.’
Christa waved them goodbye and closed the front door. Adam and Paul had gone to bed and the waitstaff had cleaned up.
She kicked off her shoes and sat on the long sofa in front of the dying fire in the sitting room, watching the coals glow.
It was such a beautiful birthday, she thought. Not because of the excess and largesse but because everyone made themselves available. They didn’t say there would be more presents tomorrow or not to eat too much because there was Christmas lunch the next day. They all made sure she was celebrated and that was enough. She could happily never have a birthday again, as this night would be enough to see her through till she died.
‘You okay?’ she heard Marc ask as he closed the door behind him.
She turned and smiled. ‘I’m more than okay, I’m content,’ she said.
Marc came and sat next to her. ‘I never knew what contentment was until the first night you were here,’ he said.
‘How? You yelled at me twice.’
‘Let’s not talk about what an idiot I was,’ he said, as his thumb rubbed the back of her hand.
‘It was this feeling when we were sitting around the table and laughing, your incredible food was being served, and I thought, “This is as good as it gets”. But now I know there is something better. When you have someone to share it with you.’
Christa rested her head on his shoulder and the clock on the mantel struck midnight.
‘Merry Christmas,’ she said to him and turned to him and kissed him.
‘Merry Christmas, Christa,’ he said and kissed her in return. Suddenly, he stood up. ‘Wait here, I want to give you your present now.’
‘Really? You can’t wait till tomorrow morning?’ she asked, laughing at his eagerness.
He disappeared and then returned with something behind his back.
‘I didn’t wrap it,’ he said as he sat next to her and handed her a plain white envelope.
