6/12- Presents- My Gifts To You

Contemporary

"A... rock?" I grimace at Charlie, who is smiling his foolish grin, looking at me expectantly. The rock is the size of my palm, painted with a few strokes of gentle blue, and definitely not a disappointment. I clear my throat, readjusting the Christmas lights of the tree. "Thank you." I'm unable to make my voice above a whisper.

Why did I expect something to change this year?

He was an incredible gift-giver that first Christmas we spent together. I got a beautiful necklace with his initials, and he had one with mine. Additionally, we went skiing for the best two weeks of my life.

Maybe romance fades. The last few years I have gotten a pencil, a coin, post-it notes, and now a rock. I think it has somehow gotten worse because I can't actually do anything with a rock.

To not hurt his feelings, I plaster a smile onto my face. The box is even a better gift. the perfect shape, and could easily contain an engagement ring. Not that I was expecting one. Oh well.

"Open your gift," I instruct him, passing the red-and-white box into his hands. We're alone for Christmas this year. Family is meeting in the mountains, skiing, but budget cuts, and we're stuck at home. I'm not complaining. It's just us two, opening each other's gifts.

He unwraps it violently. The good half-hour I spent wrapping now seems like a waste. His mouth spreads in that grin of his again, and his arms are suddenly wrapped around me, swinging me in a circle. It's not even that good of a gift!

"I didn't even know this existed!" As soon as I get close enough to the ground to escape, he lifts me even higher.

"I need. To breathe."

"Who needs to breathe when you can have every flavour of coffee at your disposal, using my brand-new mini express?"

"Me." Even before I say it, he places me back down. "And there isn't every flavour."

"You're getting pretty close. All you're missing is grass and battery."

My smile is real now, too. Seeing Charlie happy makes my heart swell like nothing else does.

"Best part?" he whispers, leaning closer. "It ties in perfectly with my little gift."

"Coffee and rocks have almost nothing to do with each other." I roll my eyes.

"Almost." He pulls me to the couch, ruining my blanket arrangement. "Do you still have your old gifts from me?"

"Yes, why?" What's he playing at?

"Go get them. And be quick."

I slump from the couch and up the stairs, fake-pouting. "It would have been quicker if you hadn't first ruined my blankets and made me comfortable."

"But I love to see you dishevelled." He raises his hand dramatically like he's in a play and keeps it there until he's out of my sight, because I'm turning into the bedroom. Is he ever going to stop smiling?

I pull open my desk drawer and dig into the very back, blowing off the thick layer of dust that coats the objects. Fiddling with the paperclip I had completely forgotten about, I zoom back downstairs.

Charlie doesn't speak as he takes the post-its, putting his glasses on to read the coffee machine's instruction manual.

I kiss him on the cheek and help him hook it up and whatnot. Well, as much as I can, considering he doesn't let me touch it and places me back on the couch so he can make the coffee independently.

"Am I gonna have to get up again?" I call into the kitchen.

"Not for a while." His comment prompts me to wrap myself in the blankets. Too much clattering ensues, but I stay lying where I am, since he was so insistent on being independent.

He kicks open the living room door with two mugs in one hand -- reckless! -- and little slivers of paper in his other. Bright orange post-its.

"Do you remember?" He passes me a cup of cinnamon and gingerbread heaven.

"Yes." I giggle.

"You made us a movie night."

"But I had just moved in and couldn't find the printer paper..."

"So you made little movie tickets out of orange post-its."

I gasp. He replicated them almost perfectly. Only his beautiful and swirly handwriting is different. I inspect the tickets. "Christmas Chronicles?" I read. "Aren't you tired of them?" We watch them, at my command, about five times a year.

"I can't get tired of anything you love." He kisses me on the cheek.

*

After the movie has finished, I'm ready to get on with the day, but Charlie holds me in place, claiming, "We just started."

"But I've got to clean up your unwrapping mess..." I point to the floor.

"Nope. Your gift isn't over yet. What else did I give you? On our 1-year anniversary?"

"A coin?" I place my head on his chest, looking up at his face as he explains.

"Mhm. Four years ago. I dropped this very coin in the cafeteria."

"It's this one?!"

"You were determined to catch it. Our friend groups happened to be sitting near each other. So when you saw the coin keep rolling and rolling..."

"Beneath my foot, and Amy's, and under a whole other table, and under the vending machine," I remind him.

"You jumped right into a puddle to catch it. It was freezing. You lay there, soaking wet, just for this coin." He holds it up and wiggles it between his fingers. I cringe at my past self.

"What's the point of that story? No swimming pools are open on Christmas Day."

"It's when I knew I was in love with you. I kept that coin close the whole time I was chasing you, both love-wise and literally, because you hid from me after that." He points at me mock-accusingly. "The coin worked. I kept it on me at all times until I gave it to you."

All of the old presents had a meaning. The pencil had written a beautiful poem three years ago, when we started dating. A poem I was 'not to experience.'

"Yet," he added, before turning my attention to the rock. "The grand finale."

"I don't know if anything can beat Christmas Chronicles." I shrug.

"Well, for this one, we need to go for a drive. So go get changed and meet me outside in five minutes."

"But my makeup--"

"You don't need any. Not as a compliment, though I think you are the most gorgeous woman with or without it." He kisses my hand. "But you literally don't need it."

*

For the whole two-hour drive, I fiddle with the paperclip. The one I was gifted, not one of the far-too-many which can be found on the numerous snacks Charlie had packed. A tribute to his mother's hack, which I had gushed over when I had first met her.

What on Earth does the rock mean, though?

I've been trying to figure it out since the second we set off.

None of our memories are linked to a rock, or at least I don't think so. Especially not a blue one.

I stare out of the window until I recognise the roads. There's the old corner store. That's Amy's old apartment. "There's our old apartment." I cling to Charlie's arm as he drives. We lived here for over a year before moving into a house of our own. We spent only two Christmases in the village, but they were so beautiful.

And they still are. The snow is thicker up here, landing on the houses like icing on gingerbread. Everyone has lights hung around their windows. "There's the Santa-dino. Hey Greg!" I shout out of the car window, and wave at the light-up inflatable dino. It wears a Santa suit and oversized hat. Retracting my head back into the car, I tell Charlie, "He's not in the best shape."

"Well, he is an old dino. It might be time for him to retire." He turns to me for just a second before looking back at the road.

"He can't retire! He brings so much joy!"

"Yeah. I guess it's hard to get tired of sitting for a month a year." We laugh, turning the corner towards the lake.

"We better not be swimming!" I screech, and Charlie just chuckles, parking in the empty lot. Everyone's probably inside and warm. And I have to stand outside in the cold.

I'm not complaining. Everything's so mesmerising, and I stare at the frozen lake, fluffy hood obscuring my view slightly. My gaze darts between the rock in my hand and the lake. Wait. It's a map.

I turn to Charlie to tell him, but he's on one knee.

"Do you remember all our walks by this lake? One time, when it was snowing, you said you wanted to get engaged at Christmas, right here, because Christmas -- not Valentine's day -- is the most romantic time of year."

I blink quickly so my tears don't freeze on my cheeks. He remembered everything. And thought this through so cleverly. He was right about me not needing makeup.

"My sunshine and snow. My fire and fun. Belle. Will you marry me?"

Thank you for reading. I hope you got a little Christmas joy from this story. Here, for anyone who wants it, is the maintenance.

If you enjoyed this story, please, please, please (I can add a cherry if necessary) like, comment, rate and share. It really helps me out and allows others to see these (hopefully decent) stories. Thank you, and Merry Christmas.