She looked at me, like she wanted to say something, but instead distracted herself by thrusting the gift into my hands
“I’m freaking out about this. I’ve never really given you a gift, so I really hope you like it,” she said.
I took it from her and gave her a kiss. Her eyes were wide and I could tell she was very anxious about the gift. It would be mean to torture her, so I started tearing into the wrapping paper, pulling it aside, to find an old Amazon box. I glanced over at her.
“I had to put it in something,” she said.
I opened the box and could see layers of clothing. Of course she made me something; she’s a designer. She makes her own cosplay. I pulled out a heavy brown woolen cloak that looked like there was a hood. Then a white tunic, a brown belt, and pants. I realized what it was.
“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” I said with a touch of awe. I looked at her. “You made me an Obi-Wan cosplay. Ashley this is…”
“Well, you said that because of your beard and stuff it would be hard for you to cosplay, and you weren’t wearing spandex and I know you said Dr. Doom would be fun, but that’s waaaay beyond my abilities right now, and then I remember Obi-Wan and I knew I could make that and I hope you’re not disappointed…”
I put the box down, grabbed her shoulders and brought her in for a kiss. As usual when she was babbling it took her a couple of seconds to realize that she was being kissed, to stop talking and just enjoy it. I pressed her back on the couch and she wrapped her arms around me. Eventually, we pulled apart for air.
“I absolutely love it. I love that you made something for me. Thank you,” I said. She beamed.
“Try it on to make sure it fits ok.”
“You just want to see me strip,” I said, beginning to remove my clothing. She gave me a smile that indicated that if it wasn’t the plan, she was at least enjoying the show. Unsurprisingly, everything fit perfectly. She either had a good eye or snuck into my closet when I wasn’t around. I went into their tiny bathroom, her apologies for its condition trailing after me. I looked in the mirror and had to admit I looked like a pretty good Obi-Wan.
“You did a great job, princess. This will be a blast to wear around comic cons. Are you going to go as my Slave Leia?”
I got a look.
“Wrong movie. But you might be able to persuade me to wear the classic white dress with some cinnamon buns on my head if you’re good,” she said.
“All I need now is the lightsabre and I’m all set,” I said.
“Shit!” she yelled and ran into her bedroom, re-emerging a few seconds later with another, longer box. “I didn’t bring it out with the cosplay because I thought it would be too obvious and then I forgot completely.”
I took it from her, expecting it was going to be a lightsabre like you might give to a little kid. When I unwrapped the box I discovered how wrong I was. I’d wanted a lightsabre for years, but when I lived in Toronto there was never enough space to justify buying one. Now I had a high end lightsabre. The kind that people would duel with at comic cons. I knew how much they retailed for. I pulled out it and, sure enough, this was a replica of Obi-Wan’s lightsabre. It was easily a couple of hundred dollars.
This was an expensive gift. The lightsabre, the fabric for the cosplay and all the work she put into making it. Part of me wanted to scold her for spending so much money on me when I knew money was tight for her. But it would be a dick thing to do.
Instead, I put the box down, went over and picked her up, and gave her a spinning hug, making her squeal. I put her down and gave her another kiss.
“I love it,” I said. “I always wanted one and would never pull the trigger on it. So thank you. You’re amazing.”
She was beaming and practically levitating off the floor.
“I was afraid you were going to lecture me on spending too much. But I’m good at being able to cut some corners here and there. Besides, I really wanted to do this for you,” she said.
“I’m glad you did. Now I just have to wait to wear it to a con,” I said. “Hey, go open your gifts.”
She’d forgotten there were things for her to open. I find there are two kinds of women when it comes to gifts. Meticulous unwrappers and shredders. I was glad she was a shredder. She grabbed the first box and began tearing the paper off. I wasn’t surprised she picked the smaller one first. I knew she was dying to see what was in the large box, but she was all about denying herself.
Once she finished with the paper she saw it was a Scarlet Witch figurine. She laughed.
“Nice,” she said. “Am I going to get one of all my cosplays?”
“Maybe,” I said. “That’s not actually a bad idea. Or maybe just the ones you used to seduce me.”
“So that would be all my cosplays then,” she said, sticking out her tongue and being a brat. She then looked at the large box. “I’m nervous about what this is, although I can tell you didn’t wrap this. This is a much nicer job than what you did on the figurine.”
“You’re not going to get less nervous just looking at it, Kitten. It doesn’t bite, I promise.”
She began picking at the paper and then, finally, her will power dissolved and she started to shred the Christmas paper. The new sewing machine revealed itself.
I know nothing about sewing machines. But I went on some cosplay forums and said I wanted to get a good new sewing machine for my cosplayer girlfriend. This one pretty much was the top of the list. Also, I was awesome for wanting to do this for her, which was good to know.
She said nothing and with her head lowered and her hair covering her face, I couldn’t really see her reaction. She walked around the table, touching the box gently like she was afraid it was a mirage that might disappear.
“I hope it’s the right one. If it’s not and you need something more industrial or sturdier or other sewing terms, I can return it and we can shop for the right kind for you,” I said after she went about 30 seconds without saying anything.
“It’s the nicest gift I’ve ever gotten,” I heard her whisper. She looked up at me and I could see tears in her eyes. “I can’t believe you bought this for me.”
“It’s what you do for someone you love, princess,” I said. The words came out, and it then took me an additional few seconds for me to realize what I had said. Then I smiled because I realized I was perfectly ok saying it because it was true. I was in love with her.
Her eyes got wide and the next thing I knew she was flying across the room and slamming into me hard enough to knock me back onto her old couch.
“I moof oo too, addy,” she said with her face buried into my chest. I laughed and hugged her harder. Eventually she tapped my shoulder to let me know she needed to breathe. I let her pull back. Her eyes were red and she still had tears, but she looked radiantly happy.
“I love you too, daddy,” she said.
“Good. Because it would be awfully sad if it was just me,” I said. I shook my head. “We’re in it deep now, Kitten. You ok?”
“Never better,” she said, and we were perfectly happy for me to sit on that ratty couch with her sitting on my lap and her head on my shoulder and just enjoy the moment.
***
Montreal -Three days until Christmas.
After the drama at her apartment, along with a spontaneous ‘christening’ of her apartment that involved one of her neighbours banging on the wall and telling us to keep it down, we eventually got her packed up and staggered back to the hotel.
The next morning, we grabbed some breakfast, checked out, and made our way to the airport. The glowing mood that had sustained Ashley for the past 12 hours evaporated once we arrived at the airport and she checked in. There were flights going to Toronto every hour, but I wanted to make sure she got away to Saskatchewan safely first. That meant I had another couple of hours to kill.
“This sucks,” she pouted at the departure gate. “I never really wanted to go and now I really, really don’t want to go. Can we just skip the flights, go back to your house and, like, not leave until school starts.”
“It’s barely a week. We’ll meet up in Toronto, take the train back to Kingston and you can stay at the house and roam around naked to your heart’s content,” I said.
That got me a small smile. “I am absolutely going to take you up on that.
“Still, a week with my mom,” she sighed. “At least I can do this to her.”
She turned her phone around and showed me a picture of the two of us from the other night at the pizza place. Gillian had snapped it and it was Ashley snuggled tight into my chest while I had my arm around her. She looked radiant. I looked like a goofball, but a very happy one.
When I raised an eyebrow and asked why, she simply said, “Oh, I’ve been waiting for this. You know you’re older than her, right?”
It had never occurred to me to ask how old her mom was. The mildly stunned look on my face made her laugh. She told me I was almost five years older than her mom. Wow.
“Look, we’re better than what we used to be; that she sent me a plane ticket and invited me to come home for Christmas is proof of that. We love each other, but I’m not sure we like each other much. And this,” she said waving the phone in her hand, “coupled with telling her how old you are will drive her nuts.”
She cackled with glee.
Mothers and daughters. It was best not to get involved.
After more hugs and some tears, she finally left to get on board her flight. I moped my way over to an airport restaurant and grabbed a late lunch.
I was in love. I’ll be damned. I never thought that would ever happen again. But it felt good. I glanced at my phone and scrolled through photos of the two of us. I was grinning like an idiot in almost all of them.
That’s when my phone vibrated and a little bar flashed across the top. It was an IM for my mom.
“Looking forward to seeing you in a few days!”
As much as I was going to miss Ashley, it had been more than six months since I last saw my parents. I was doing better back then, but they were still nervous about me heading out east by myself to a new town and house. I might be nervous telling them I was dating, but I was going to be glad to be in a good mood. That alone would ease their worries.
“Can’t wait to see you and dad as well,” I replied.
“Sooooooo, a little bird told me you might be seeing someone.
“Looking forward to the details.”
I was going to kill Meg. I was going to kill her, and do it slowly, and then plead insanity, which I will totally be able to get away with.
“Really?” I replied. “Who told you that?”
“Oh, I never reveal my sources,” she typed.
Oh I’d get it out of her when I was there in person. And then I would spend Christmas figuring out how to dispose of Meg’s body.
“But… Helen was here for a visit when I found out and I might have let it slip.
“Sorry.”
Helen. Beth’s mom knew I was dating again.
For fuck’s sake…