The days begin to fall into each other; each shorter than the last as winter comes full swing. Store windows, houses, and front yards are now adorned with festive Christmas lights and decorations and the air is lightly scented with freshly made gingerbread cookies and cinnamon. The air is alive with festive spirit and the town is a hustle and bustle of Christmas shoppers.

Soon, the kids are out of school and the resort is busier than ever. My days are filled and my nights… well, they’re filled with a certain blue-eyed man. Our relationship, if you could call it that, hasn’t changed much over the past couple of weeks. We’re still on “physical” terms and, somehow, I’ve grown accustomed to this fact. He still occupies my every thought and leaves me utterly confused when he shows the sweet and caring side of him – though I don’t question it. He gives little away and, at times, Asshole Neighbour still shows his face.

Two days before Christmas Eve, I find myself doing some last minute packing before an early flight to Vancouver the next day. I’m excited to see my family, eat a ton of food, and just relax and do nothing for a good week. I’m just about finished packing when I hear the doorbell ring and Bronx barking in response. I shush him and head for the door.

“It’s midnight,” is his greeting. He’s standing on my porch when I open the door; thick black sweats and a cream jacket on. His hair is unruly, curls falling across his forehead.

“You really do need a haircut,” is my reply and he grins.

“I’ll do that when I get in to LA tomorrow, ma’am.” He drawls out the last word and my heart skips a beat. “Don’t you have to be up in four hours?” He steps in and I close the door behind him.

“Yeah,” I mutter, not looking forward to an early morning wake up call. A couple of the workers at the resort are also taking the same flight to Vancouver and I’m catching a ride with them to the Calgary airport at four in the morning. Bronx comes running to greet Brian, and he reaches out a hand to pet him. That’s when I notice his other arm behind him. “What do you have in your other hand?” I ask, eyeing him warily.

He looks up at me and that grin is back. “Just a little something before you go.” He swoops his arm around and holds out a small stuffed brown bear holding a black bin – a bear-safe bin. A laugh escapes my lips as I take it from him, his eyes alight with humour. “Open the bin,” he says softly.

There’s more? I snap the small bin open and gasp when I see an even smaller turquoise box inside wrapped in a silky white bow. I take it out and my eyes widen when I see the tiny writing in black peeking out from underneath the ribbon. Tiffany and Co. “Brian! You didn’t…”

“You haven’t even opened it yet,” he laughs and helps me untie the bow.

I open the box and inside are the most exquisite pair of diamond and white gold earrings I’ve ever seen. They start off as a diamond stud, and then the thinnest material, almost invisible, hangs down to hold another larger diamond stud, and then another piece of thin material drops down to hold a third, even larger diamond. My mouth drops open as I hold them up; three-drop diamond Tiffany earrings, shining immaculately under the light.

“Brian, they’re beautiful,” I gasp, looking up at him. He’s staring at me intently, the sparkle from the diamonds catching in his blue eyes. “Thank you.”

I reach up to hug him and he takes me in his arms, holding me tighter than usual. “I’m going to miss you,” he murmurs in my hair. “Merry Christmas, London.”

“Merry Christmas, Brian.” With that, he pulls back and captures my lips in his in a kiss that takes my breath away.

-

I sink back in my seat, relieved as the plane touches down on Vancouver ground. I’m giddy with excitement to be back home, but also exhausted and ready for a much needed nap. Brian had left my house soon after he had given me my Christmas present, letting me head to bed and get some shut eye. However, I was so in awe about the gorgeous Tiffany earrings and his thoughtfulness that I had trouble sleeping. Next thing I knew, I needed to be out of bed and ready to head to Calgary with my colleagues. I dropped Bronx off at the next door neighbor’s, who usually sit for him when I’m away – he’ll be staying there until Brian gets back from LA and Kentucky where he’s spending the holidays with friends and family. I’m glad he’s spending time with his loved ones; I saw the excitement in his eyes when he told me he’s going back home for Christmas – though I also did see a look of sadness and regret. Oh, my Brian… what’s eating at you? Why won’t you let me in?

My thoughts are interrupted as passengers begin to filter out and I grab my bag from underneath the seat in front of me, grateful to stand up and stretch my legs. A few minutes later, I’m walking through two large automatic double doors and immediately spot my Dad, a head of salt and pepper hair standing at a tall six-foot-five in the crowd. His light hazel eyes crinkle up, an ear to ear grin on his face as I walk towards him. He holds out his arms and I practically run into them, hugging him tight.

“Oh, how’s my favourite little girl?” His voice is deep, familiar, comforting.

“Oh, Dad.” And in an instant, the past couple of months catch up to me; Brian, work, Christian, physical, relationships, potential stalkers, celebrity status, expensive cars, gifts, dinners  – and I nearly burst out in tears. I needed this – to be home, to have stability, to see my family. I didn’t realize how much I missed my Dad. “I’m so glad to be home,” I sniff and he pulls back to examine me.

“You need some rest and your Grandma’s white chocolate brownie!” he says and I beam at him.

“That is exactly what I need.”

A few hours later, I’m sitting in my PJs in my Dad’s house eating a hearty meal at the table. I had a good four hour nap, settled in, and was even happy to see my brothers who had come in to my room to wake me up. They’re now sitting at the table with me; eighteen year old Myles talking animatedly about graduating high school and getting accepted into the engineering program at UBC this year, and twenty-one year old Jovan who just got back from Europe on a backpacking trip. Myles is the lively one while Jovan is more reserved, quiet, and always contemplative. All of us have Dad’s eyes, but I see more of my Mom in Jovan.

Karen and Dad are in and out of the house, picking up more relatives from the airport, including Karen’s children who are spending the holidays with us this year. I can tell it’s going to be a jam packed Christmas; lots of family, and even more food. Grandma is in the kitchen already prepping to cook for tomorrow and I promised to help her and Karen grocery shop later this evening.

“Your favourite!” Grandma comes into the dining room, holding a pan of freshly made white chocolate brownie. Her white hair is pulled up in a bun and her red lipstick still intact. For someone nearing her nineties, she is young and vibrant as ever. “I didn’t bother to cut them up, because I know this whole pan will be gone,” she adds, laughing as she places the pan down and hands us each a fork. She’s a strong lady, having had six kids herself, my Dad being the youngest. Her eyes are a deep green, warm and filled with wisdom. She’s the only grandparent I know.

“Thanks, Grandma,” I say gratefully, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“So, London, I was thinking of coming to visit sometime in February,” Jovan speaks up. His voice is its usual calm and calculated tone. “My friends and I want to hit up some ski resorts in Banff.”

“Anytime, J you are welcome to stay with me,” I reply as we dig into the brownie. A loud PING interrupts my train of thought and I realize that it’s coming from my cellphone in my sweater pocket. I reach for it and check the message, my heart jumping to my throat when I see it’s from Brian.

Hey babe, I’ve just arrived in LA. Got a haircut, just for you ;)

I can’t help the grin on my face as I text him back. Thanks for letting me know. It’s about time… the other day, Linda mistook you for Bronx!

A few seconds later, another message pops up. Ha. Ha. I can’t wait to bite that smart mouth of yours.

My stomach flips and a slow blush creeps on my face. How’s LA?

Hot. Huge difference from freezing cold Canada =P How’s Vancouver?

Rainy as usual. I’m eating a gigantic white chocolate brownie as we speak! I take a bite of brownie and look up at my brothers who are also texting away on their phones. I laugh inwardly – typical us.

I miss you.

This time, my heart drops to my stomach. Oh, he is so confusing. Before I could reply, Grandma strides back into the dining room and scolds us all off of our phones. “You barely see each other through the year and when you do, you’re all busy on your little technologies!” she exclaims. And when Grandma raises her voice, you know to stop whatever it is that you’re doing.

By early evening, Karen’s daughter Ana and her husband Mike have arrived along with their five-year old daughter Kaila who is as cute as a button. Karen’s son, Travis and his wife, Tess, along with their own brood which includes three-month old Liam and two year old Simon arrive soon after. Both of Karen’s children live in Scarborough, Ontario where they are originally from. Two of my aunts and an uncle have dropped by the house as well along with some of my cousins to help Grandma prepare. The house is packed, alive with loud and excited conversations and laughter. I feel at home and content, surrounded by loved ones.

Karen, Ana, and I are headed to Costco with a long list of grocery shopping to do. Little Kaila has tagged along and we sit in the back of my Dad’s truck as she shows me her new Ken and Barbie doll.

“They got married and had a baby!” she tells me excitedly and I laugh as she pulls out a small Sailormoon keychain, which I’m guessing is the “baby”.

“I bet she made a beautiful bride,” I say and Kaila nods enthusiastically.

“I’ve never been a flower girl,” she tells me sadly. “Auntie London, can you get married so I can be a flower girl?”

My eyes flick up to Karen who quickly glances at me with a smile on her face. “I second that question,” she replies. “Well, maybe not the flower girl part. Kaila can have that very important responsibility, hey Kaila?”

“Yes!” she squeals and claps her hand. Karen and Ana laugh as I shake my head.

“Not you guys, too,” I groan.

“We’re just pulling your leg, hun,” Karen says, her voice light. “But, you know, with all of my grandchildren, your father is wondering when he’ll have his own.”

“Tell him he has Bronx,” I joke and Ana giggles in the passenger’s seat. She’s in her mid-thirties, long blonde hair like Karen and an easy smile.

“And you didn’t even have to go through the cravings and the stretch marks!” she quips, looking back at me and I grin at her.

My phone vibrates and I instinctively reach for it in my purse. It’s a text from Brian and I realize that I haven’t texted him back in the midst of this busy day. How’s your day been, beautiful?

I smile, appreciating the simple text. I text him back. Busy! How’s yours?

Filled with business meetings and the like. What are you up to?

I look over at Kaila who is occupying herself by brushing her Barbie’s hair. “Hey Kaila, you want to take a picture with me?” I ask and her face lights up. I lean in towards her and hold my phone in front of us, snapping a quick picture. I send it to Brian with the caption: Going grocery shopping with this cutie pie!

A moment later he texts back with a picture of him and a little boy with a missing tooth. What a coincidence. Shall we hook them up?

I laugh softly. Who is that handsome boy?

It’s me, duh. I roll my eyes at this reply, grinning like a fool. The little boy beside me is a patient that I helped through my Healthy Heart Club Foundation. He just got out of surgery last night, healthy and ready to go home!

My heart swells with admiration at this. He has so many sides to him, but this side – his caring and generous side – is my favourite. The more I get to know him, the more I realize how this overrides all of his other unpredictable sides. Oh, Brian. I sigh and look out the window, my thoughts suddenly filled with a possible future with him. Then, something nags at the back of my mind and I picture another life - one that makes my heart constrict - without him. It’s the moment that I realize that it’s not just physical for me. I think I had known this a long time ago, but I had denied it. But I know, deep down, that I’m falling for Brian Littrell. Hard. The disappointment washes over me like a tidal wave; deep down, I also know that he has no plans to catch me.