Page 35

ROSIE

The smell of pine and snow is strong in the air and my boots sink into the muddy footpath.

I cling to Jackson’s arm just in case I lose my footing and get stuck like a turtle on its back.

Getting out of the house is becoming more and more of an ordeal now, especially because I hardly want to leave my new home.

“What about this one?” I ask, pointing to a lopsided fir with a gloved hand.

Jackson tilts his head. “Sure, if you’re happy to look at it at a forty five degree angle.”

I sigh under my breath and wrap my hand further around his arm. I never would have guessed that Jackson takes Christmas tree shopping as seriously as he takes an exam, but I can’t help finding it endearing. Even if we’ve walked past half a dozen perfectly fine trees already.

“This one,” I say, pulling him to a stop in front of a thin, maple spruce.

He hums under his breath. “It’s too skinny. It will look like we’ve dragged a branch in from the street. ”

“I like the Charlie Brown tree,” I protest but he’s already moved on.

The tree farm is almost an hour out of London, but when I said offhandedly that I wanted to start decorating the house for Christmas he bundled me into the car and drove me all the way outside of the city to find the perfect tree.

I readjust the fluffy hat on my head and squint at all the options.

“You’re going to have to pick one eventually,” I tell him. “Before I give birth next to the netting funnel.”

“Great, we can catch the baby on the way out.”

I bite my lip to stop the laugh bubbling up inside. How can he know exactly what to say to make me laugh?

“Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something,” he says casually, slinging an arm over my shoulder.

“Is it about the difference between Fraser and Douglas fir? Because I honestly don’t know the difference, they look identical.”

“It’s unrelated to trees. Related to Christmas.”

I look up at him from under my glasses. “Hit me.”

“Well, now that we’re settled into the house and we’re decorating, I just wanted to see what you wanted to do for Christmas.”

“Oh.” I step out of the cradle of his arm.

“Uhm, yeah. Well, I guess I can spend it with Anya and Danny? I already told her that I don’t want to be a third wheel on their first married Christmas, but she probably won’t let me spend it alone.

” And I think it’s better for everyone if I don’t go to my parents house.

“So, I mean, I can definitely, like, get out of your hair.”

I glance down at my boots, my fluffy jumper and winter coat covering my bump, and I try not to let the blush show on my face. His hands come to my chin as he tilts my head towards his. “Shall I tell you my thoughts and then you can let me know what you think?”

I nod as his thumb teases at the bottom of my lip.

“I would like to spend Christmas with you. I want to wake up in our bed and give you all the presents that I’m going to pretend I haven’t bought you already.

And then I want to go downstairs and give you some more presents.

And, y’know, if you have any for me that would also be okay with me.

And then I want to eat some good food and snuggle on the sofa with you and watch Christmas films and then fall asleep full of chocolate. ”

He doesn’t look away as he tells me his plan, his eyes sparkling.

I have to look away to blink the tears that are rimming in my eyes. This man. His communication method should be sold in a relationship guide book. “Uh, yeah, I mean that sounds nice, I guess.”

“Nice, you guess?” he mocks as he tugs me closer and starts peppering kisses across my chilly cheeks, nudging the bobble hat he forced me to wear before we left the house so my ears don’t get cold. “Just nice?”

“Fine,” I laugh. “It sounds really nice.”

He finally presses a kiss to my lips.

“Really, really nice,” I whisper against him before my tongue finds his again.

“One more thing,” he says as I lean my cold cheek on his warm hand.

“Go on.”

“My family wants to come over.”

I still, biting my lip.

“Before you say anything, they absolutely don’t have to come. Say the word, and I’ll make sure they stay away, but my mum has not shut up about you and my sisters want?—”

“Jackson,” I interupt with a smile. “I want them to come. I want to meet your family.”

He releases a slow breath. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” I say firmly. “You haven’t seen them for ages, and we’ve already spoken on the phone. I’d love to spend Christmas with them.”

Jackson’s smile is blinding as he cradles my face and kisses me.

“It’s a plan.”

“But first”— I lift my hands to his wrists— “we have to pick out a tree.”

He groans.

“You’re going to need to just pick one.”

He holds my shoulders and turns me in his arms. “Fine, let me do another lap.”

I always thought nesting was an exaggeration supported by companies who want you to buy toys and furniture. But moving into a new house, expecting a baby and in the run up to Christmas? I’m in full nesting mode.

It’s helped massively by Tiny the interior designer. I was reluctant until she showed up on the doorstep with a detailed binder and a catalog of designs that felt homely and perfect.

Although I have insisted that I decorate for Christmas myself.

Which then resulted in Jackson doing most of it himself, after he spotted me on a ladder and forced us both to lie down for an hour until his heart rate went back to normal.

I want to create my own memories and traditions that Smudge will experience throughout her whole childhood.

I’m so focused on where the garlands will hang on the banisters and what bedding to add to all the upstairs bedrooms that I’ve barely had a chance to panic about the Harpers descending on us.

It’s best to keep moving. If I stop to think about it too hard, I’ll frazzle.

I’m putting the finishing touches on the tree when Jackson appears, handing me a glass of water and taking a seat on the couch.

“What do you think?” I take a step back to admire my work.

“I love it, pretty girl.”

I’ve gone for a country cottage vibe, woodsy and gold, with winter berries and rich green garlands hanging along the mantelpiece.

It’s really starting to sink in now that this house is my home.

It’s helped by the fact that Jackson has said yes to every suggestion Tina and I have added.

After the downstairs gym, my office and the nursery that he has insisted on putting together himself, he’s given me free reign.

“Come here,” he says, leaning his arm back on the couch, gesturing to my space.

I toe off my slippers and gently ease back into his arms, resting my feet on the coffee table that he insisted we bring from the flat. It’s nice to ease my swollen ankles. Working a full time job, editing Kathleen’s short, growing a human and the aforementioned nesting, is pretty tiring. Who knew?

“You’ve been working too hard, Rosie, you need to relax.”

“I’m so relaxed,” I insist, closing my eyes as I rest my hand on my belly .

“How’s the short coming along?”

I nod around a yawn, burrowing into his side. “It’s good. I invited Kathleen over before New Years to watch the latest version. Is that okay?”

“Of course, pretty girl. You don’t have to ask to have people over in your own home.” He tugs at my hair, gently massaging my scalp. I nearly groan in pleasure. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

I nod very convincingly with my eyes still shut. “Uh-huh.”

His body vibrates as he chuckles. “It’s not too late to cancel.”

“Don’t be silly.” I tilt my head up to him. “I’m excited to meet them. Besides, they’re already in Scotland.” As soon as their visit was confirmed, his sister Tara added me to the family group chat, so I’ve been welcomed with a daily photo dump of their trip across the UK.

Jackson is picking them up at the train station tomorrow after they travel down from Edinburgh. “What time are you going to pick them up again?”

He readjusts and pulls his phone from his pocket. “Train gets in at one.”

“Are you sure I shouldn’t come?”

“Nah,” he sighs. “You won’t all fit in the car. Besides, I need them to get all their energy out before they meet you otherwise we’ll all get overwhelmed.”

“I can handle it.” I snicker.

He leans his head back dramatically. “I don’t know if I can.”

I laugh as I burrow into his side more. I take a look around the room. It’s neat and tidy. Quiet and cozy. Soon it will be full of people, full of laughter and conversation.

I know Jackson is worried that it will be too much, but I can’t wait.

“I’m excited,” I tell him with a smile. “We’ve always had a quiet Christmas and it’s always been…tense.”

Jackson gently rubs his hand up my arm. “Why? What do you do?”

“It’s just quiet.” I readjust my glasses as they slide down my nose. “I spend most of the morning cooking breakfast while they open their presents and then I start on dinner.”

“When do you open your gifts if you’re doing all this cooking?” He tugs at my hair gently.

I shrug, “I usually get gift cards, so there’s not much to open.”

He tightens his hold on me.

“Gift cards are fine,” I reassure him. “Obviously, I used to get gifts as a kid but the older I got the easier it was to just buy what I wanted myself. Sometimes I head out on Boxing Day and face the sales. I’ve got some really great stuff there.

That bedding upstairs? I battled with a middle aged lady for it in the John Lewis sale one year. ”

“Who do you go with?” he asks.

I shrug. “I go on my own.”

“I’ll go with you this year.”

“I think I’ll give it a miss this year. It’ll be nice to just sit around in my pajamas.”

“There’s a lot of that with my family,” Jackson reassures me. “I don’t think anyone can fit into their jeans after Christmas dinner.”

“What do you guys normally do?”

“We wake up, we watch Cody open all his gifts and embarrass him because he hates the attention, so then we have to open all of ours. The last few years, I’ve gone quite hard. And everyone gets mad at me for spending so much on them, but I do it anyway.”

I smile, thinking about the car that Jackson’s ordered for his mum back in Wellington, and the elaborate gifting scheme I’ve helped him come up with so she has something to open on Christmas morning.

“Then we go outside and swim in the pool until dinner.”

“I love that,” I rest my head further on his shoulder. “I can’t imagine a hot Christmas. We’ll have to go out there one year.”

“We’ll have Smudge to spoil next year too,” he says, resting his hand on my belly.

“She won’t have a clue what’s going on.”

He chuckles. “I’ll spoil her anyway.”

“We should make some new traditions,” I say. “For her, as she grows up.” I shift in my seat to face him more. “What do you leave out for Father Christmas?”

“First of all, it’s Santa. Mum used to leave a bottle of L&P out, but when Cody was a kid we switched to beer so I could drink it.” He shoots me a cheeky grin.

“No mince pies?”

“Rosie.” Jackson sends me a horrified look. “What the fuck is a mince pie?”

I snicker. “It’s just a tiny fruit pie, but that’s what we call them. I’ll make you some to try.”

He grimaces.“I guess if I have to.”

“What’s L&P?”

“It’s like a fizzy lemon drink. I can’t stand the stuff, but Ella’s addicted to it. I’m sure she’s already brought a case over so you can try one.”

“Let’s compromise. Santa can eat a mince pie and he can wash it down with an L&P.”

“Deal,” Jackson says firmly, offering me his hand. “And he wears jandals.”