The Christmas tree twinkled with tiny white lights. Crouched beneath it, Renesmee distributed the gifts with deft tosses—except Emmett’s.
His hit the wall with a smash.
“Sorry, Uncle Emmett. You said nothing gets by you…”
Bella giggled. Carlisle guffawed. Everyone was laughing except Emmett, who prodded his wrecked gift with a finger that came back black.
“Guess you weren’t a good boy,” Rosalie murmured.
Alice retrieved a box and handed it to Emmett. “Don’t worry. This is the real one.”
I pulled Bella closer and smiled at Renesmee. I needed no box. My gifts were already beyond measure.
She looked up at him with ingenuous love, “Kiss me!” Her zeal contagious, as the snow swirled around covering the angel impressions in the alabaster powder.
“Anything for you my sweet,” he smiled. Brushing the wisps of hair from her face, he raspberried her cheek educing a cacophony of giggles.
“Merry Christmas Grandpa Carlisle.”
“Merry Christmas, my Nessie.”
The tree is overdecorated as always. Stockings hang on the wall nearby – green, gold and red – and gifts wrapped in bright paper are piled beneath it. There is another box – a smaller one – in his pocket.
The ring is simple, white gold, and will be hers.
He taps his foot to the rhythm of a holiday tune and feels her fingertips on his elbow.
"Hey, Bella," he whispers, and his eyes flit upward, toward the mistletoe.
“What’s your favorite holiday, Peter?”
Personal information, that’s good. Maybe, I have a chance after all. What will impress her?
Valentine’s Day? She’ll know that’s a lie.
Thanksgiving? Too sentimental?
St. Patrick’s Day? Nah, drinking holiday.
“Christmas. I’m a giver.” Maybe a little too suggestive… “What’s yours?”
“Eh, don’t have one. I just needed to make you a password reminder.”
Fuck. Try again…
“Wanna take a break?”
“Nah, I want finish this assignment,” she says. “I have a date with Jasper later tonight. You’re friends, right?”