Me and My Boys

By the time the boys fall asleep, crashing on the floor in the family room with some of the other kids at the party, I’m ready to party. A lot of the guys had retreated to the basement, and I could hear them laughing riotously as they play pool, air hockey, and the xbox. I know they’re utilizing the bar that Zach had informed me was down there, and for once in my life I want nothing more than to let go and have some fun. Then I look at the boys and realize that the fun will have to wait until I find them a babysitter. I don’t mind though. I retreat to the kitchen, and upon seeing the pile of dishes in the sink I decide to help Zach a little bit. I start cleaning dishes, and I don’t even realize when he walks in the room.

“Why are you doing my dishes when you’re supposed to be enjoying yourself?” he asks, leaning against the island counter a few feet away from me. I turn and smile at him.

“If I don’t occupy myself with something, I’ll find myself enjoying that bar of yours with the rest of the guys, and I don’t need Jack and Jimmy to see their mother plastered,” I say. Zach laughs, his head tilting back as he lets out a deep chuckle. I immediately turn away, trying to ignore the fact that he was so deadly attractive. The fact that I can feel his eyes on me doesn’t help the blush that is growing deeper and deeper by the second, and my hands slip as I start to clean another dish. The dish clatters against the sides of the stainless steel sink, but luckily it doesn’t break.

“Let me help you,” Zach says, nudging me over with a playful hip check. I feel my eyebrows raise a bit as I wonder why he is being so flirtatious with me. I barely know him, but I’ve talked to enough men to recognize flirting.

“I wash, you dry?” I ask. He nods and I hand him the towel that was sitting on the gleaming marble counter top to my left. Our fingers brush as I hand him the towel, and I snap my attention back to the dishes so that he doesn’t notice how red my cheeks are. It wouldn’t be a lie if I said that he was the first guy I had found myself so ridiculously attracted to since I was eighteen.

“So…did you have fun meeting the guys?” he asks as I hand him a dish.

“Yeah. They’re a great bunch, and you’re lucky to have a family like that,” I say with a smile.

“Family?” Zach asks, his eyebrows rising.

“Yeah, a family. Face it…you spend most of your time with them, you guys protect each other, annoy each other, antagonize each other, and help each other like you’re all brothers. You’re the most bizarre, dysfunctional, but happy family I’ve ever seen. A big hockey family,” I explain. Zach smiles broadly.

“You’re right, they are like my family,” Zach says, glancing at the door to the basement where a chorus of laughter has come floating up. Marty and Ilya are chatting quietly in the dining room, and the various wives and girlfriends are lounging in the family room, watching the kids sleep. It’s a heartwarming scene, and I feel a little lonely. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen any of my family besides Jack and Jimmy.

“I’m glad that you invited me Zach…I seriously think this is the most fun I’ve had in a long time, and I didn’t even touch any alcohol,” I grin.

“You had that glass of wine at dinner,” he smirks, and I bump him with my shoulder.

“That doesn’t count,” I say simply. He nudges me back.

“Sure it does. Its alcohol, isn’t it? You’re probably a lightweight anyway,” he says. I laugh, and shake my head.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” I admit.

“I’m glad you came. Honestly, I was pretty nervous about inviting you,” he says after a few seconds.

“Why?” I ask.

“I thought you would say no. I haven’t asked a woman to anything in…three, four, maybe even five months. I figured I’d be shot down,” he explains, and I look at him. His cheeks are pink, and he can’t seem to make eye contact with me.

“Any woman would be crazy to say no to an invitation from you Zach. Listen, I know I don’t know your history, but I do know something…that woman, whoever she was, was an idiot to let you go. You’re a fantastic guy. I know I don’t really know you, but in the past few weeks I’ve seen something that I know is true…you have a big heart,” I say. I suddenly feel like the wine at dinner was a lot stronger than it seemed at the time. Are you crazy Camille? Now it’s going to sound like you like him…but you do like him…but he can’t know that, you have kids! But then again, the boys do want him to date you…oh forget it! I am waging a mental war with myself, so I don’t even notice that Zach has placed his hand on my arm until I look down and see it. I feel my skin begin to crawl (in a good way) and I look up at him. His eyes are serious, and I feel my heart skip a beat. I want to kiss him so badly in that moment, but I force myself to break the eye contact, and I look up. Hanging above us from between the cabinets is a little green plant with white berries.

You’ve got to be shitting me

*Zach’s Point of View*

I look up as she does, and I see it hanging there. The first thing to pop into my mind, after “you’ve got to be shitting me” is “who the hell put that there?” I’m torn between hating whoever did it, and loving them. I look down at Camille, and her eyes are wide. She swallows nervously, and I feel more blood creep into my cheeks. Suddenly, without thinking, I pull her closer to me.

“Merry Christmas Camille,” I say quietly before kissing her softly. I hear her squeak in surprise, and her body stiffens. As I continue to kiss her, however, she sort of melts into my chest and returns the kiss. I feel my blood rush, and I smile against her lips. We break apart and she stares at me with those big blue eyes of hers again, but they aren’t as nervous as they were the first time.

“Zach…” she says, and it’s half a question.

“Yeah?” I ask.

“Are you crazy, or just stupid?” she smiles.

“Why would you say that?” I ask, panic creeping into my chest.

“Because you just kissed me…without hesitation…even though I have two kids,” she mutters.

“Well then I must be both, but trust me, it’s not always a bad thing to be crazy and stupid,” I smile.

“But…” she starts, looking towards the family room. I can see the tufts of blonde hair sticking out from behind the arm of the couch, where her sons are passed out on the floor.

“They’re great kids…it doesn’t make a difference to me whether you have kids or not, except in a positive way,” I say quietly. She smiles broadly, and continues to look at her boys. I wrap my arms around her waist, and she leans into my chest.

“So, does this mean what I think it does?” she asks after a few minutes.

“That depends…what do you want it to mean?” I ask.

“I want it to mean that we both are crazy as hell and probably want to date each other,” she chuckles.

“Yeah, that’s what it means,” I say. She grins again, and I kiss her cheek. Someone has turned on the radio, and soft Christmas music is playing. I spin her around and place my hands on her waist. She wraps her arms around my neck, and we start dancing along slowly with the music. The twinkle of the Christmas lights I had hung on my roof leaks in through the kitchen window. The laughter of my friends adds to the scene, and I look at Camille again. She is smiling, and her eyes are on me. I lean down and kiss her lightly again. Everything about the moment feels right, and for once in my life I believe in the magic that Christmas has when it comes to romance. I see Marty nudge Ilya from the dining room, and as we continue to sway, they give me a thumbs up. I smile at them, but try to make it seem like we aren’t being watched. I don’t want Camille to get cold feet before we even get into this whole thing. I know it’s going to take a lot of work. We’re still practically strangers, and even the chemistry that I noticed from the beginning won’t be everything we need to make this work. However, I give up my worries and cares for a few minutes, as the world seems to slow down and I dance with Camille and enjoy the beauty of Christmas.