Carpe Diem (20 page)

“Okay, that was sweet of you, but next time you decide to break into my house in the middle of the night let me know.” I laugh.

“I know, I’m sorry, I guess I thought…” he trails off.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m awake now, do you want some coffee?” I ask.

I could see he was embarrassed and now regretted his sweet intention. I know he meant well, so I suppose I can let him off the hook.

“No, I should go, you should go back to sleep.”

“Oh hell, that’s not going to happen anytime soon.” I smile and toss the blanket back on the couch and I stand up.

“Piper, I am so sorry.”

“It’s fine, you had good intentions. Although remind me to get my key back from you.” I joke.

I walk into the kitchen to make the coffee and see the clock on the microwave 5:37 a.m. I can’t remember the last time I was up this early.

I pour the water and beans into the coffee maker and press Start. When I turn around, I see Flynn standing next to the center island and staring at the floor where we almost kissed.

“Is that why you have been so distant lately?” I ask.

“Huh?”

“What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

“Flynn, since Thanksgiving you have been making excuses not to come over and when you are here you are not yourself. Something is on your mind and I assume it has to do with that night.”

“You noticed that huh?”

“Flynn? Really? You were over here every few days to check on me or fix something and then you drop by a few times and make excuses when I invite you over. How was I not going to notice?”

“I’m sorry. I thought you would be more comfortable if I gave you some space.”

“Flynn, nothing happened.”

“But it almost did and that would have been inappropriate on my part.”

I walk around the counter and look deep into his eyes.

“Flynn, you have been such a help to me these past months. Your friendship means the world to me and a little thing like getting drunk and almost kissing me is not going to ruin that,” I tell him.

I leave out the part where drunk me actually might have wanted him to kiss me.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yes. Now let it go, nothing happened, it’s fine,” I tell him.

Flynn gives me a smile and nods.

“Now, if you grab my ass we may have to have some words,” I joke.

“Deal,” he replies.

As Flynn and I take a seat at the dining room table to chat and drink our coffee, the front door opens and Bryna walks in.

“Merry Christmas,” she announces.

“Bryna, what are you doing here so early?” I ask, running to give her a hug

“I don’t know. I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep so I thought I would just get in the car and come home,” she explains.

“Flynn? What are you doing here?” she asks, walking over to give him a giant hug.

“It’s a long story I’m sure your mom will tell you later,” he tells her.

“Well, Merry Christmas. You are going to stay right?”

“Actually, I should get going.”

“No, stay. I have a gift for you.”

“No, I will let you and your mom get some sleep.”

“Pretty plllllllleeeeeeeeeeae stay?” she begs.

“You are more than welcome. I have plenty of food,” I tell him.

“Fine. I will stay for a little while.”

“Yay! I will go bring my stuff up to my room and then we can open presents and make breakfast.”

“Bryna, it’s six o’clock in the morning. Don’t you want to get some sleep after your drive? We can open gifts when you get up,” I ask.

“Um no. The rule is if we are all awake we get to open presents,” she reminds me.

“Okay, if that’s what you want to do.” I laugh.

While Bryna brings her things to her room, I wander back into the kitchen to put the French toast bake I prepared last night into the oven. By the time we are done with gifts, it should be ready to eat.

I hear Bryna and Flynn talking in the living room and when I walk around the corner, I see Bryna now dressed in her pajamas and has already passed out the small number of gifts like she used to do when she was a little girl.

Watching her smile as she shakes the gifts in front of her reminds me of Jack. He used to pick up each gift, shake it, and then try to guess what it was. Granted they were never real guesses because there was no way a Lamborghini or elephant was going to be in the box.

“Okay enough, you don’t want to break whatever is in there do you?” I call to her.

“Whatever I can tell it’s clothes,” she says, shaking the gift I know is not clothing.

“Well, go ahead and open it,” I tell her as I take a seat close by.

Bryna rips open the paper without a second thought and pieces are flying around. She carefully folds open the box flaps. She can see it is not clothing, but I can tell she still has no idea what it is.

Grabbing at the fabric, she carefully removes it from the box and unfolds to see the quilt I had made from her dad’s old shirts.

“Oh my God, Mom? Are these… Are these Dad’s shirts?” she asks as the tears start to form.

“Yes, honey they are.”

She runs her hands over each large square that used to be a tee shirt. She also stops to look at each picture and the little messages that say things like “Daddy’s Little Girl” that were stitched in by hand.

“I remember this day,” she says as she wipes the tears way and points to a picture that was taken at the zoo about ten years ago. “Oh or this one when we all went to that county fair.”

“Do you like it?”

“Mom, I absolutely love it.”

As soon as she has finished looking over every inch of the quilt, she dries her eyes and gives me the biggest hug she has ever given me.

“Thank you, Mom, it’s perfect. I love you,” she whispers in my ear and kisses my cheek.

I can’t find the words through my tears so I squeeze her tight.

“Okay, your turn, Mom.”

“I think we need to take a break after that one,” I joke, wiping the giant waterfall from my face.

“No, we keep going. Here open your gift from Flynn,” she says, handing me a small box.

“Ah, mine can wait,” he tells us.

“No she can open it now,” Bryna tells him.

My curiosity is piqued when Bryna gives him a little look. I have no doubt these two have been conspiring.

When I open the small box, I am amazed to find a necklace, but not just any necklace. It looks like they have taken one of the red coffee mug pieces and placed it in a kind of clear resin. Attached is a small charm that has an image of a coffee mug and reads “Carpe Diem.”

My tears are free flowing again as I hold it in my hands, cherishing it. What a wonderful, thoughtful gift this is.

“I hope you don’t mind that I stole a piece when you weren’t looking,” Flynn asks.

“Not at all, I absolutely love it.”

“Bryna gave me the idea,” he tells me.

I look over to Bryna, who is sporting the biggest smile I have ever seen. She looks so happy at this moment.

“I can’t take all the credit. I was on Pinterest and saw something similar.”

“I absolutely love it. You could not have thought of a better gift. Thank you,” I say again.

I give them both a giant hug and then Bryna helps me put it on. As it rests against my skin, I can almost feel a warmth come over me.

Once our tears are back under control, Bryna hands Flynn a gift to open, but I interrupt.

“Wait. Not that one,” I announce.

Neither of them says a word as I stand and walk over to the front closet. I am careful not to let them see what I am grabbing just yet. I fold it neatly over my arm and tell Flynn to close his eyes.

Bryna does a good job of making sure he doesn’t cheat and nods when she is convinced he is not peeking.

I turn around and walk back over to where they are sitting. Bryna recognizes what I have and gives me an approving smile.

“I wasn’t sure when the right time would be to give this to you, but I think now is the right moment. Go ahead and open your eyes.”

“Ha, Jack still had this.” He smiles.

“Yes, it didn’t actually fit anymore, but he thought one day he might be able to get it back on,” I tell him.

Flynn takes his time looking over the jean jacket that at one time had given him such pleasure in teasing Jack. It was a brotherly like teasing that Jack must have enjoyed since he continued to wear the jacket.

“Are you sure you want to part with this Piper?” Flynn asked.

“I think he would have wanted you to have it,” I tell him.

N
ew Year’s Eve, the doorway into the New Year and to new adventures, also known as the last hurrah of the year we are ready to say good-bye to. A day everyone takes a few moments to reflect on the past and ponder future resolutions. A day that we remember those that have entered our lives, but didn’t get to stay.

Then there is the kiss. The kiss that sets the tone for the year to come, according to folklore anyway. It is said that the first person you encounter will set the tone for your year. For couples, it will reaffirm their bond to each other while a single person kissing a random loser will suggest a bad year of dating, and should a single person not find someone to kiss as the clock strikes twelve they are destined to have a year of loneliness. It’s a good thing I don’t believe in folklore, although I do believe in celebrating with friends.

I decided to hire Chef Basil to make us some normal, meaning nonspam, appetizers for me to serve. He, of course, was overjoyed with my request and then offered to drop them off for me.

I, invited everyone. However, since we normally spend every New Year’s Eve together, it was kind of a given that they would be at my house anyway. The only difference is that I requested everyone dress in black tie or as close as they could. I wanted to change things up a little this year. I thought it would be fun to say good-bye to such a crazy year in style rather than in our normal blue jeans and sweatshirts. Plus it gives me a reason to wear my dress again.

I may have gone a little overboard with the decorations. Black and silver streamers are draped over anything that would hold it, balloon bouquets in every corner, and those silly little firework centerpiece things all over the table. It kind of looks like Pinterest Decorating 101 threw up in here. I’m putting the final touches on my decorations when Chef Basil knocks on the door.

“Well, hello again, gorgeous,” he greets.

“Hello, come on in,” I offer.

“Oh honey, have I worked some magic for you,” he claims.

I show him to the kitchen where he unloads the first of the four large pans he tells me he has for me.

“Okay, sugar, come over here and take a peek at my masterpiece so I can show you what you need to do,” he says, waving me over to him.

“I hope it’s foolproof,” I tell him.

“Oh, honey. Don’t you worry your pretty little head off, a monkey couldn’t mess this up.”

“You never know with me these days.”

“Girly, you are gonna do just fine. Chef Basil hooked you up,” he tells me, snapping his fingers.