E. Blair - Falling

“So I get to keep you hidden away in my bed the whole time?” I say with a smirk, and she smiles back at me.

“No, but I think lying around, watching movies, and eating are all my top priorities.”

Bringing her hand up to my lips, I kiss her knuckles as we sit back and listen to ‘Angels.’

“I always think of you when I hear this song,” she murmurs as she gets comfortable in her seat.

I give her hand a light squeeze as I listen to the love song that is laced with a haunting melody.

Candace and I continue to work together with Dr. Christman, still focusing on the events of that night with Jack, but since running into Charles, we’ve been discussing more of our childhoods and how they’ve impacted us as adults. I’ve learned a lot about what it was like for Candace growing up and how she taught herself to shut down emotionally so she wouldn’t be forced into feeling worthless and sad all the time. She learned how to bury it and hide it away, to just move on through life by avoiding. But I do the same thing. Although we’ve dealt with two very different sets of parents, we both used masks to cope.

Candace still deals with anxiety around crowds. She continues to wake from night terrors, although not as often as she did a few months ago. I have a feeling these things will stick with her, along with the blame she carries. She’s still my same Candace, but she’s beginning to settle with herself, no longer living inside of her chaotic head all of the time, constantly haunted and shadowed. Her personality is starting to brighten, and I love seeing bits and pieces of the Candace that was so far destroyed when I first met her.

When we finally arrive at my mom’s, it’s a little after five on Christmas Eve. Trevor helps me unload all the gifts for the kids, and Candace, staying true to her word, is already in a pair of her long red and white polka dot pajama pants and a long-sleeved white shirt.

Walking over to her as she’s sitting down with the kids, watching cartoons, wrapped up in a blanket with her glass of Merlot, I sit down next to her and kiss her.

“You move fast,” I tease.

She settles herself into my arms as we lean back against the couch and says, “Your mom insisted I take it easy.”

“Oh she did? Did she also insist on getting you drunk?” I joke as I eye her rather large glass of wine.

Her only response is a soft kiss with her hand wrapped around the back of my neck.

“Eww! Gross!” Maddie squeals from a few feet away, embarrassing Candace.

“Don’t you kiss your boyfriend?” I tease her with a wink.

“I don’t have a boyfriend, Uncle Ryan.”

“That’s not what your mom says,” I say, continuing to egg her on.

She tilts her head at me, clearly in the know that I’m making things up, and says, “Boys are nasty,” causing Candace to burst out laughing.

“This boy isn’t nasty,” Candace tells her quietly as if it’s a secret she doesn’t want anyone else to hear.

“Don’t listen to her, Maddie,” Tori pipes in as she sits down on the couch behind Candace and me. “Uncle Ryan has cooties.”

“Maddie, do you know what crabs are?” I tease, knowing that the only crabs she’s aware of are those in the ocean.

“Ryan!” Tori squeaks as she slaps my shoulder.

Laughing loudly, I turn to Tori and say, “Hey, if you’re gonna tell her I have cooties—”

“Ryan, that’s disgusting,” Candace scolds while smiling at the banter going on.

“Aunt Donna told me that you guys got a cat,” she mentions as she sits back, and we turn to face her.

“We didn’t get a cat; Candace just decided to open our home to a feral,” I say and then wait for Candace to get defensive, and it only takes a second.

“She’s not a feral. She’s super sweet,” she tells Tori before looking at me, saying, “Admit it, she’s sweet.”

Tightening my arms around her, I confess, “Yeah, babe. Ana’s sweet.”

“Her name’s Ana?” Tori asks.

“No, her name’s Tatiana,” Candace responds.

“So why do you call her Ana?”

Looking at Tori with annoyance, I tell her, “Because no man should have to call any pet ‘Tatiana,’ especially a random stray.”

Tori shakes her head and laughs, “You guys are funny.”

“It’s a pretty name,” Candace says. “But Ryan feels it impedes too much on his masculinity to have to acknowledge her full name.”

“Are you guys talking about Tatiana?” my mom calls out from the kitchen. “That is the cutest cat.”

“When did you see it?” Tori asks.

As Mom starts walking into the living room, she answers, “I visited them before Thanksgiving to see Candace dance since I missed her opening night.”

Wrapping another blanket around the two of us, I tuck Candace’s head under my chin as the four of us continue to talk.

It isn’t long before everyone is finished with dinner and busy giving the kids baths and getting them ready for bed. Candace and I stay downstairs, cleaning up the kitchen and then settling in front of the fireplace with some wine. We enjoy the peace while we wait for my mother. Candace wants to stay up with her to fill the kids’ stockings and put the gifts from Santa under the tree. My cousins appreciate her enthusiasm since it means they don’t have to stay up and can go to bed.

“It’s so dark in here,” we hear my mom softly say as she walks into the room.

“It’s quiet,” I joke. “That’s the most important thing.”

She laughs and then eyes the bottle of wine, grabbing a glass before joining us. “Ryan, I have all the stocking stuff in the laundry room closet. Would you mind grabbing it for me?”

When I get the bags and return, Candace and Mom have all the stockings pulled from the fireplace and lying on the floor. I drop the bags and watch the two of them working together, filling them up with candy and gifts.

“So how have you been, dear? You’re always so busy; I hardly get to talk to you,” she says to Candace.

“I know. I’m sorry. Everything is good though. We’ve been really busy with the Nutcracker and also rehearsing auditions for our next run.”

“What’s that going to be?”

“‘The Tempest.’ It’ll run in February.”

“I’ll have to get tickets for that.”

“Mom, you don’t have to come to all of her performances,” I tell her as they continue to fill the stockings.

She sets one down to take a sip of her wine before saying, “I know I don’t have to, but I want to.” When she looks to Candace, she adds, “It’s fun for me to go and to know it’s you up there dancing.”

Candace’s face lights up as my mom says this. “Thanks, Donna. But you don’t need to buy tickets. I can get you the same passes I get Ryan. It’s not a big deal.”

Once everything is filled, they hang the stockings back up above the fireplace when Candace says, “Did Ryan tell you about his newest shoot?”

“No.”

“He was commissioned to shoot one of the lead principals in the company to be displayed at the Metro Gallery downtown for a special invitational showing,” she brags with a huge smile.

When my mom turns to me, she nearly scolds, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I just got the gig a few days ago.”

“Apparently the director, Peter, is friends with one of my old college dance teachers whose girlfriend works at the Henry Gallery, who Ryan works closely with now. Anyway, a few of his pieces are being displayed and caught Peter’s eye, and when he found out the photographer was my boyfriend, he commissioned him for this photo shoot.”

“That’s wonderful,” Mom says. “It amazes me the things you two have going on in your lives.”

I laugh at my mom’s excitement as Candace continues to chat with her while we start putting the gifts under the tree. When everything is done, we say goodnight and Candace and I head up to my room to crash.