Fic: Well Maybe What You Want is Right Here 25/?
Title: Well Maybe What You Want is Right Here 25/?
Pairing: Arizona/Callie
Rating: M
Summary: Sometimes we don't realize what we want until we just know. And sometimes we realize that certain things are worth fighting for. Starts a day or two after the scene in 11x08. Timeline may not be perfectly canon. Reunion fic.
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
A/N: Fluff alert. That is all.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
"Calliiiiope."
My wife's voice reaches my ears, lyrically drawing out my name as her face hovers directly over mine. My eyes are still shut, but I can sense her there, feel her soft breath on my face, and all I know is that we were at work way too late last night for her to be this happy this early.
"I'm still sleeping."
"No you're not, you're talking."
I feel a soft set of lips make contact with my shoulder, and she begins a light trail of kisses along my collarbone and up the side of my neck, making it increasingly difficult to ignore her.
"Sleeping," I mumble again, my lips threatening to twitch into a smile, "shh."
The sheets rustle slightly, and I feel her weight shift as she settles on top of me, straddling my waist.
"I guess I'll just take off this super sexy, lacy lingerie then."
My eyelids flutter open at that and I peer up at the blonde, but my brow furrows when I find her grinning at me, fully dressed in plaid flannel pajama pants and a tank top.
"You're a liar," I point, "you even have a bra on!"
Arizona lets out a delighted laugh and reaches up to tuck some hair behind my ear, letting her hand linger along my cheek before she leans down to brush her lips softly against mine.
"Made you look though."
"Mm," I sigh happily into the kiss, bringing my hands up to rest on her slim waist, "the possibility of you in sexy lingerie will always make me look."
She flashes me a brilliant grin again, sitting back up, and I yawn, stretching my arms up above my head in a half-hearted attempt to wake my body up.
"Well, there may not be lacy underthings, but mom did make pancakes. And bacon."
“Mm.”
I smooth my palm up underneath her tank top, over a soft, toned expanse of stomach, and I try to push the sudden images of sexy underwear out of my mind.
“That’s a decent reason to wake me up, too.”
A soft laugh bubbles from the blonde’s throat again as she smiles down warmly at me, her eyes seeming to sparkle in the morning light that floods the bedroom. Her beauty is unparalleled as she sits over me in her pajamas and still slightly messy hair, her face completely free of makeup and her bright blue eyes relaxed and content. The light freckles dotting her shoulders and her nose stand out against pale skin, and the tiniest beginning of a wrinkle shows itself at the corner of her eye. Smiling, I reach up and run my thumb over it, letting my palm linger over warm skin as she tilts her head slightly into my touch.
“I changed my mind. You’re the best reason to wake up. You are so beautiful.”
A soft flush colours her skin and she turns her face to kiss my palm.
“Merry Christmas Eve, Callie.”
*
Barbara really does make the best pancakes in the world - and finally, finally I convinced her to give me her secret ingredient as an early Christmas gift. Four years as her daughter-in-law and I’ve earned my wings; I’m finally being let in on secret family recipes.
By some miracle it snowed a good couple inches overnight - enough to coat the back lawn in a blanket of white fluff - so almost immediately after all the breakfast food is eaten, Sofia is begging her grandparents to go outside and play. I bite back a grin when The Colonel side-eyes the backyard and grumbles a little to his wife, but it doesn’t take long for him to be convinced and the three of them head outside to play and put up the birdhouse that he and Sofia painted yesterday.
“I love this. I love having your parents here.”
I bring over the rest of the dirty dishes from the table and help Arizona load up the dishwasher, filling the sink with soapy water for the leftover bowls and pans.
“Me too. Plus I kind of love seeing how much she’s softened the old Colonel up,” she laughs, turning on the machine, “who’d have thought? He would never play in the snow with Tim and I. He hates snow.”
I glance out through the window over the sink and watch our daughter direct her grandfather about exactly which tree to hang the multi-coloured birdhouse in, and a smile tugs at my lips. Arizona grabs the dish towel and sidles up beside me to dry, and I look over quickly before focusing back on the soapy water in front of me.
“I decided I want to go to Miami. I let my dad know last night.”
"Yeah? That sounds great, I'm glad, Calliope."
"I'm nervous. I feel like I'm in college bringing a girl home for the first time. Except I've been married to the girl for four years."
I lift a clean pan over to her side of the sink, but pause for a moment when our hands meet.
"Can I say that? I don't...I mean...we were married for three years and now we've been married for nearly six months again..." I bite my lip a little, "is it cumulative? When are we considering our anniversary?"
The blonde takes the pan, smiling a little as she answers softly.
"I think our anniversary is July eleventh now. We're not going to forget the first three years, but this time we're going to get it right."
I smile to myself, looking up and out the window again.
"Yeah, I think so too."
The bird house has been mounted in one of the large oak trees in the back corner of our yard, and now Sofia is busy trying to build a snowman with Barbara -- although mostly it looks like she's rolling around in the snow while her grandmother attempts the snowball making. They might actually get a mini snowman out of this.
"Sofia asked about your mom the other day."
Arizona's voice pulls me back into the kitchen, and I turn my head, eyes wide at her admission.
"What? What did she ask?"
She dries the last platter in her hand and sets it aside, wiping her hands on the towel.
"She asked why she only had one grandma. Her friend Megan told her about how she was going to see all four grandparents for the holidays."
"Oh..." I sigh, pulling the plug from the sink and drying my own hands, "what did you say?"
Blue eyes watch me somewhat cautiously, and the smaller woman bites her lip a little before responding.
"I told her...that your mom doesn't get along very well with you, or with me, and that's why she never comes to visit."
"What a thing to have to tell a four-year-old."
"At first she asked if your mom was dead. That was the best answer I could think of without...well..."
I nod, leaning back against the counter with a sigh.
"Best I could have come up with too. It's not like we can tell her that her abuela is a raging homophobe, cause I really don't feel like starting to explain that one."
"Yeah, I'm hoping we can go a few more years before learning that lesson."
Arizona cups my cheeks, leaning in to drop a soft kiss on my lips, and my arms instinctively come up to wrap around her slim frame. I let them rest loosely around her waist, a small smile finding my lips when I look her in the eyes.
“You know,” I slip my hand just under the back of her tank top, letting my palm rest against warm skin, “your mom called me her daughter the other day. I mean, she calls me her daughter-in-law all the time, of course, introduces me that way...but the other day when she met me for lunch at the hospital I was going on and on about my research lab, and I realized she was probably bored so I stopped and apologized...but then she said ‘of course I’m interested, Callie, you’re my daughter.’”
My wife’s face brightens into a smile, and she leans in against me, reaching up to brush my bangs aside.
“She loves you like her own, Callie. You may not have the Robbins name, but you’re one of us. You’re family to them.”
It’s true, in every sense of the word, and the very thought of it puts a huge smile on my face. I lean in and capture soft lips in a kiss, tightening my arms around the other woman and pulling her into an embrace.
“I love being a Robbins.”
*
Arizona
Christmas morning starts early the next day, just as I expected, when an extremely excited four-year-old leaps unceremoniously into the middle of our bed and squeals in our faces - before the sun has even risen.
“MAMA! IT’S CHRIIIIIIIIIISTMAS!”
I blink awake with a slight groan as my daughter flops onto me, her body resting along the length of my torso so she’s nose to nose with me. Her eyes are wide with a barely contained excitement, and she bounces slightly as her little hands grip the neckline of my tank top.
“Mama! Wake uppppppp!”
Laughing softly, I wrap my arms around her and lean in for a kiss.
“I’m up, I’m up! It’s Christmas!”
There’s a distinct grumble from the other side of the bed, and I glance over at my wife, who’s half-heartedly attempting to snuggle back into the comforter with her eyes closed. Like that’s going to work.
“I think you need to make sure mommy is awake too, or she’s gonna miss it!”
Sofia looks over and rolls into the space between us, leaning in close and smooshing her palm to Callie’s cheek.
“Mommy!” she grins as the older brunette opens one eye slowly, “Mommy it’s CHRISTMAS! We gotta wake uppppp!”
“What time is it?”
I roll onto my side, snuggling around Sofia’s warm little body, and grin over her shoulder.
“Five-thirty.”
Callie just groans, which only makes the little girl between us giggle harder.
“Can we see if Santa caaaaaame?”
I tickle her belly a little, dropping a kiss on a soft little cheek, and decide to strike up a compromise.
“Okay, how about you go down the hall and wake up grandma and grandpa, and I’ll go make hot chocolate, and then we can all go see if Santa came.”
“Yeah!”
She scrambles up almost immediately, half climbing and half launching herself over Callie’s body to drop to the floor, and her little footsteps take off down the hall at a run. I can’t help but smirk a little as a yawn escapes me and I stretch languorously - my dad likes to wake up early; a little shrieking human alarm clock will just help him out with that.
“There better be coffee with that hot chocolate.”
Callie yawns and chuckles softly, scooting over to bury her face against my neck for a moment. She winds her arm around my waist and lets out a content little sound, and I just brush her hair back softly to press a kiss to her forehead.
“I hear Santa brings pretty good coffee, too.”
"He sure does."
Laughing softly at my sleepyhead of a wife, I nudge her back a bit, reluctantly slipping away from her embrace.
"Come on, we better get out there or she'll open everything without us."
*
The sight of my father still in his pajamas is one that I haven't seen for a very, very long time. Possibly since I was near Sofia's age. He was always up before everyone else in the house, and always fully dressed at the breakfast table -- old army habits, he claimed. That's just how things were done.
But today as I pass over a mug of freshly brewed coffee, my father, The Colonel, is sitting on the couch in his striped flannel pajamas.
My eyebrow raises ever so slightly, and he just shrugs half a shoulder, playing it off nonchalantly as he answers seriously.
"Sofia said everyone has to stay in pajamas on Christmas."
"At least until dinnertime," mom pipes up from beside him, giving me a huge grin, "she's awfully convincing."
"Apparently! I wonder what else she can get dad to do while you're here."
I grin at my father, who just gives me a bit of a huff as he sips his coffee, and I lean down to kiss his cheek. I'll take any opportunity to tease my normally strict, no-nonsense father, but more than anything it just fills me with happiness to see this side of him with my daughter. I never imagined them as grandparents when I was younger -- and especially not after we lost Tim -- but it's changed the older man in ways that are miraculous to see.
Sofia bounces excitedly by the tree, poring over the unwrapped gifts left by "Santa" -- many of which were exactly what she asked for in her letter to the North Pole -- and I settle onto the floor beside Callie, watching as she snaps some pictures.
"Mommy! Santa gave me an Olaf!"
A wide grin spreads across my face as I glance at Callie, and then back to watch Sofia hug her new stuffed snowman with a look of awe on her face. That damn snowman had been so hard to find -- sold out in nearly every store we went to last weekend -- but we'd been determined to find one. And it was worth it.
"I see that! He knew Olaf was your favourite!"
She plops down beside the tree and delights over the toy doctor kit and collection of Play-Doh, and the books and other toys left by Saint Nick, and once she's looked through those she starts passing out the other wrapped gifts, getting Callie to help her read the name tags.
"What a good little elf you are, Sofia!"
My mom watches her with rapt attention, a happy smile on her face as the girl flits about the living room. This Christmas morning is exactly how we used to spend it when I was younger -- at least when my dad was around -- and I can see the nostalgic look on her face as I remember being the Christmas elf myself, with Tim supervising and reading me the tags, directing me around the room.
We open our gifts one by one, laughing when Sofia starts to sing Jingle Bells in the middle of it all, and when she sticks bows to everyone, studiously trying to match them to our pajamas.
We got her a train set and a tricycle this year, and a bunch of books and art supplies, and of course some educational games thrown into the mix. From my parents she gets some adorable clothes and a set of building blocks, along with some DVDs and one of those new dolls that are all the rage these days. She’s absolutely spoiled, there’s no question about it, but when I see her so happy I have to admit I don’t really care for this one day of the year.
“This one is for you and your mama.”
I look up as my mom helps Sofia push a larger box toward me, that seems to weigh quite a bit. I hadn’t even noticed that one under the tree.
“For both of us?” I question, glancing at her.
She just smiles warmly, smoothing a little piece of wrapping paper out of Sofia’s hair as the girl plops down to sit beside me, and settles back in the corner of the couch herself.
“You’ll see. Open it, sweetheart."
Eyeing her one more time with a curious smile, I pull the bow off and tear off the wrapping paper with Sofia's help. A plain cardboard box is underneath, and I carefully use my nail to loosen the tape and open the top flaps. When I see what's inside, a wave of memories hits me out of nowhere, and I can't help the slight sheen of tears that starts to collect at the corners of my eyes.
"Oh...mom," I pull out the book that's on top almost reverently, "I didn't even know you still had these."
"The one thing I could never get rid of. I kept hoping someday you'd have someone to pass them on to."
She smiles when I look over, and a twinkle shines in her eye.
"I'm glad you do now."
The book I'd pulled off the top was a well-worn hardcover of the first of the Winnie-the-Pooh series -- Tim and I's absolute favorite set of books when we were kids. I open the cover, and sure enough there on the inside - in the messy scrawl of a seven or eight-year-old Tim - is an inscription: Property of Timothy and Arizona Robbins.
Callie scoots closer to look over my shoulder, and she smiles, wrapping her arm around my waist.
“That’s adorable.”
Sofia reaches for it, so I carefully hand her the book and dig deeper into the box, showing the books to the small girl as I pull them out and pile them between us. I find the rest of that series, along with my Peter Rabbit books, a handful of other classics that had all been my favourites, and...I can't help laugh when I glance into the bottom of the box.
"My entire series of Nancy Drew!"
Callie's eyes light up at the mention of what I know was one of her favourite series as well, and my mom laughs softly at the look on our faces.
"Now of course, Sofia might be a little young for those just yet."
"That's okay, cause I want to re-read them first," Callie reaches for the one in my hand and grins as she looks over the well worn hardcover, "this is amazing. My parents gave mine away when I was in university and I was so mad.”
Sofia is already engrossed in the Winnie-the-Pooh book, carefully flipping through the pages and peering at the classic illustrations, and I meet my mom’s eyes over her head and smile warmly.
“Merry Christmas, girls. “
“Thank you, mom.”
My reply comes softly, and I know she understands just how much this piece of my childhood means to me. Growing up, we moved around so many times, these books became such a staple in my life, and my brother’s. They moved to every single house with us, and they were constantly read and reread - first with our parents reading to us, then with Tim learning to read them to me, and eventually I learned to read with them too. There’s not a lot from my childhood that I’m nostalgic about, and there’s not a lot we kept once we grew out of it - but these are treasures. And I hope Sofia will get as much happiness from them as we did.
“Mama,” dark little eyes peer up at me, a delighted smile lighting up her features, “can we read this tonight?”
I grin down at her, affectionately tapping her little nose.
“You bet we can.”
“Looks like Callie still has one to open,” my father’s voice interrupts the moment, and I see him nod toward the little box still sitting in front of my wife, his eyebrows raised slightly with a smile, “awful tiny one.”
I glance over, biting my lip a little as I peer at the box with the shiny, metallic silver paper and elaborately curled ribbon. I’d been so caught up in Sofia, I forgot that Callie had yet to open her gift from me.
“Well...you know what they say, dad,” I pick it up and hold it out to her, “good things come in small packages.”
The brunette eyes me playfully, raising her eyebrow as she takes the gift from my palm and pulls the ribbon undone.
“Pretty sure this isn’t the pony I asked for.”
She unwraps the paper, her eyes widening slightly as the trademark turquoise box immediately gives away what’s inside, and when she opens the top a soft gasp tumbles from her lips.
“Arizona...”
Nestled inside the tiny box is a sparkling princess-cut diamond solitaire, the band in white gold that perfectly matches our wedding rings. I hadn’t been sure what exactly I was looking for when I bought it, but when I saw it in the jewelry store I knew that it was perfect. Its classic, simple elegance reminded me so much of my beautiful Calliope.
I watch as she lifts it from the box and gently slides it onto her finger, nestling it against her wedding band. They fit together perfectly - just like I hoped they would.
“Do you like it?”
I meet her eyes, a hint of nervousness tickling the edge of my stomach, but a second later when she looks up, her megawatt smile immediately quells any of those feelings.
“I love it. I love you.”
She leans in, capturing my lips in a kiss, and Sofia giggles happily behind us from where she now sits with my parents.
“Always kissin’!”
“Mm,” Callie hums lightly against my lips, kissing me softly again before she pulls back, “never enough kisses.”
*
Callie and my mom pull out all the stops and cook up a traditional holiday dinner, and we spend the rest of the day eating and laughing, and setting up Sofia’s new train set in the corner of the living room. We share a short Facetime call with Carlos in the evening, and before we know it the day is done and everyone is tucked into bed again - full, happy, and exhausted from all the excitement.
I wash my face in our bathroom and let out a small yawn as I pat it dry, hanging the towel back over the rack behind the door. I can’t help catch my reflection in the mirror over the sink, and I feel a small smile tug at my lips as my eyes drift downward to land on my stomach.
I’m slightly nauseous, my breasts are a little tender again, and after getting a positive on all four tests and officially missing a period, I'd run some blood work the other day at the hospital to confirm what I already knew. I am one hundred percent pregnant. And I can't hold it in any longer.
Fifteen minutes later, after finally getting Sofia to fall asleep for a second time, the brunette slips into our bedroom again and I watch a little nervously as she crosses the room and stops, eyeing the wrapped gift box that sits on her pillow.
“Another gift?”
She climbs into bed, gazing happily at her new ring as she holds up her left hand in the dim light.
“I think you got me enough already.”
I laugh softly, picking up the wrapped box and holding it out until she takes it.
“Just one more. I wanted to save this one until we were alone.”
“It’s naughty lingerie, isn’t it? I knew it.”
She pulls the bright red bow off the top and sets it on her nightstand, and proceeds to unwrap the paper and lift the lid from the smallish, flat box. I find myself holding in a breath, a nervous flutter running through my chest as she lifts the tissue paper and pulls out the soft cotton garment inside.
For a moment, the dark haired woman just holds up the teeny, tiny onesie covered in a print of yellow ducklings, her eyes widening as the pieces come together in her mind. She stares at me, a look of complete awe crossing her features, and I bite my lower lip slightly, mouth curving up into a smile before I whisper.
“Merry Christmas.”
I can see the joy colour her eyes as they widen even further, and she immediately scoots closer, her gaze dropping down to the same stomach I’ve been staring at for the last week.
“Oh my god. We’re...you’re...?!”
Laughing softly, I lay back when her palm makes contact with my skin, her hand gently pushing my tank top up and out of the way as she moves to kneel beside me. I watch as her eyes soften, just gazing at the place where a new life is starting to grow inside me.
“We’re having a baby, Calliope.”
Her absolutely delighted smile takes my breath away, and she looks down again, her palms smoothing reverently over the still flat plane of my abdomen. Her face carries a look of complete and utter amazement - and the love that shines from her eyes is an almost overwhelming force, making my heart swell with joy.
“Hi baby,” she whispers softly, leaning down to press a kiss to the middle of my stomach, “I love you so, so much, sweet baby.”
She kisses every inch of my exposed stomach, her thumbs rubbing soft circles over my hips, and she looks up to meet my eyes as I watch her happily.
“When did you...”
“Just over a week ago,” I smile, reaching down for her hand, “and it’s been really, really hard not to say anything until tonight. Best gift ever though, right?”
Callie laughs, shifting up to lay beside me, her hand sliding back into place protectively over my middle.
“I can’t believe it. This is amazing.”
She leans in, kissing me sweetly, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she pulls back only a fraction. I kiss her again before shifting slowly onto my side, my back pressing up against her, and I immediately feel her warm body curve itself around mine as she pulls the covers over us.
“I love you so much, Arizona. I am so...so incredibly...”
“Happy. Truly and completely happy.”
I finish for her, tilting my head slightly so I can see her face. She smiles at me then, lowering her head to nuzzle against the back of my neck, and she settles quietly with her arm around me, her palm softly landing under my tank top and against the skin of my stomach.
“So happy.”
Pairing: Arizona/Callie
Rating: M
Summary: Sometimes we don't realize what we want until we just know. And sometimes we realize that certain things are worth fighting for. Starts a day or two after the scene in 11x08. Timeline may not be perfectly canon. Reunion fic.
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
A/N: Fluff alert. That is all.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
"Calliiiiope."
My wife's voice reaches my ears, lyrically drawing out my name as her face hovers directly over mine. My eyes are still shut, but I can sense her there, feel her soft breath on my face, and all I know is that we were at work way too late last night for her to be this happy this early.
"I'm still sleeping."
"No you're not, you're talking."
I feel a soft set of lips make contact with my shoulder, and she begins a light trail of kisses along my collarbone and up the side of my neck, making it increasingly difficult to ignore her.
"Sleeping," I mumble again, my lips threatening to twitch into a smile, "shh."
The sheets rustle slightly, and I feel her weight shift as she settles on top of me, straddling my waist.
"I guess I'll just take off this super sexy, lacy lingerie then."
My eyelids flutter open at that and I peer up at the blonde, but my brow furrows when I find her grinning at me, fully dressed in plaid flannel pajama pants and a tank top.
"You're a liar," I point, "you even have a bra on!"
Arizona lets out a delighted laugh and reaches up to tuck some hair behind my ear, letting her hand linger along my cheek before she leans down to brush her lips softly against mine.
"Made you look though."
"Mm," I sigh happily into the kiss, bringing my hands up to rest on her slim waist, "the possibility of you in sexy lingerie will always make me look."
She flashes me a brilliant grin again, sitting back up, and I yawn, stretching my arms up above my head in a half-hearted attempt to wake my body up.
"Well, there may not be lacy underthings, but mom did make pancakes. And bacon."
“Mm.”
I smooth my palm up underneath her tank top, over a soft, toned expanse of stomach, and I try to push the sudden images of sexy underwear out of my mind.
“That’s a decent reason to wake me up, too.”
A soft laugh bubbles from the blonde’s throat again as she smiles down warmly at me, her eyes seeming to sparkle in the morning light that floods the bedroom. Her beauty is unparalleled as she sits over me in her pajamas and still slightly messy hair, her face completely free of makeup and her bright blue eyes relaxed and content. The light freckles dotting her shoulders and her nose stand out against pale skin, and the tiniest beginning of a wrinkle shows itself at the corner of her eye. Smiling, I reach up and run my thumb over it, letting my palm linger over warm skin as she tilts her head slightly into my touch.
“I changed my mind. You’re the best reason to wake up. You are so beautiful.”
A soft flush colours her skin and she turns her face to kiss my palm.
“Merry Christmas Eve, Callie.”
*
Barbara really does make the best pancakes in the world - and finally, finally I convinced her to give me her secret ingredient as an early Christmas gift. Four years as her daughter-in-law and I’ve earned my wings; I’m finally being let in on secret family recipes.
By some miracle it snowed a good couple inches overnight - enough to coat the back lawn in a blanket of white fluff - so almost immediately after all the breakfast food is eaten, Sofia is begging her grandparents to go outside and play. I bite back a grin when The Colonel side-eyes the backyard and grumbles a little to his wife, but it doesn’t take long for him to be convinced and the three of them head outside to play and put up the birdhouse that he and Sofia painted yesterday.
“I love this. I love having your parents here.”
I bring over the rest of the dirty dishes from the table and help Arizona load up the dishwasher, filling the sink with soapy water for the leftover bowls and pans.
“Me too. Plus I kind of love seeing how much she’s softened the old Colonel up,” she laughs, turning on the machine, “who’d have thought? He would never play in the snow with Tim and I. He hates snow.”
I glance out through the window over the sink and watch our daughter direct her grandfather about exactly which tree to hang the multi-coloured birdhouse in, and a smile tugs at my lips. Arizona grabs the dish towel and sidles up beside me to dry, and I look over quickly before focusing back on the soapy water in front of me.
“I decided I want to go to Miami. I let my dad know last night.”
"Yeah? That sounds great, I'm glad, Calliope."
"I'm nervous. I feel like I'm in college bringing a girl home for the first time. Except I've been married to the girl for four years."
I lift a clean pan over to her side of the sink, but pause for a moment when our hands meet.
"Can I say that? I don't...I mean...we were married for three years and now we've been married for nearly six months again..." I bite my lip a little, "is it cumulative? When are we considering our anniversary?"
The blonde takes the pan, smiling a little as she answers softly.
"I think our anniversary is July eleventh now. We're not going to forget the first three years, but this time we're going to get it right."
I smile to myself, looking up and out the window again.
"Yeah, I think so too."
The bird house has been mounted in one of the large oak trees in the back corner of our yard, and now Sofia is busy trying to build a snowman with Barbara -- although mostly it looks like she's rolling around in the snow while her grandmother attempts the snowball making. They might actually get a mini snowman out of this.
"Sofia asked about your mom the other day."
Arizona's voice pulls me back into the kitchen, and I turn my head, eyes wide at her admission.
"What? What did she ask?"
She dries the last platter in her hand and sets it aside, wiping her hands on the towel.
"She asked why she only had one grandma. Her friend Megan told her about how she was going to see all four grandparents for the holidays."
"Oh..." I sigh, pulling the plug from the sink and drying my own hands, "what did you say?"
Blue eyes watch me somewhat cautiously, and the smaller woman bites her lip a little before responding.
"I told her...that your mom doesn't get along very well with you, or with me, and that's why she never comes to visit."
"What a thing to have to tell a four-year-old."
"At first she asked if your mom was dead. That was the best answer I could think of without...well..."
I nod, leaning back against the counter with a sigh.
"Best I could have come up with too. It's not like we can tell her that her abuela is a raging homophobe, cause I really don't feel like starting to explain that one."
"Yeah, I'm hoping we can go a few more years before learning that lesson."
Arizona cups my cheeks, leaning in to drop a soft kiss on my lips, and my arms instinctively come up to wrap around her slim frame. I let them rest loosely around her waist, a small smile finding my lips when I look her in the eyes.
“You know,” I slip my hand just under the back of her tank top, letting my palm rest against warm skin, “your mom called me her daughter the other day. I mean, she calls me her daughter-in-law all the time, of course, introduces me that way...but the other day when she met me for lunch at the hospital I was going on and on about my research lab, and I realized she was probably bored so I stopped and apologized...but then she said ‘of course I’m interested, Callie, you’re my daughter.’”
My wife’s face brightens into a smile, and she leans in against me, reaching up to brush my bangs aside.
“She loves you like her own, Callie. You may not have the Robbins name, but you’re one of us. You’re family to them.”
It’s true, in every sense of the word, and the very thought of it puts a huge smile on my face. I lean in and capture soft lips in a kiss, tightening my arms around the other woman and pulling her into an embrace.
“I love being a Robbins.”
*
Arizona
Christmas morning starts early the next day, just as I expected, when an extremely excited four-year-old leaps unceremoniously into the middle of our bed and squeals in our faces - before the sun has even risen.
“MAMA! IT’S CHRIIIIIIIIIISTMAS!”
I blink awake with a slight groan as my daughter flops onto me, her body resting along the length of my torso so she’s nose to nose with me. Her eyes are wide with a barely contained excitement, and she bounces slightly as her little hands grip the neckline of my tank top.
“Mama! Wake uppppppp!”
Laughing softly, I wrap my arms around her and lean in for a kiss.
“I’m up, I’m up! It’s Christmas!”
There’s a distinct grumble from the other side of the bed, and I glance over at my wife, who’s half-heartedly attempting to snuggle back into the comforter with her eyes closed. Like that’s going to work.
“I think you need to make sure mommy is awake too, or she’s gonna miss it!”
Sofia looks over and rolls into the space between us, leaning in close and smooshing her palm to Callie’s cheek.
“Mommy!” she grins as the older brunette opens one eye slowly, “Mommy it’s CHRISTMAS! We gotta wake uppppp!”
“What time is it?”
I roll onto my side, snuggling around Sofia’s warm little body, and grin over her shoulder.
“Five-thirty.”
Callie just groans, which only makes the little girl between us giggle harder.
“Can we see if Santa caaaaaame?”
I tickle her belly a little, dropping a kiss on a soft little cheek, and decide to strike up a compromise.
“Okay, how about you go down the hall and wake up grandma and grandpa, and I’ll go make hot chocolate, and then we can all go see if Santa came.”
“Yeah!”
She scrambles up almost immediately, half climbing and half launching herself over Callie’s body to drop to the floor, and her little footsteps take off down the hall at a run. I can’t help but smirk a little as a yawn escapes me and I stretch languorously - my dad likes to wake up early; a little shrieking human alarm clock will just help him out with that.
“There better be coffee with that hot chocolate.”
Callie yawns and chuckles softly, scooting over to bury her face against my neck for a moment. She winds her arm around my waist and lets out a content little sound, and I just brush her hair back softly to press a kiss to her forehead.
“I hear Santa brings pretty good coffee, too.”
"He sure does."
Laughing softly at my sleepyhead of a wife, I nudge her back a bit, reluctantly slipping away from her embrace.
"Come on, we better get out there or she'll open everything without us."
*
The sight of my father still in his pajamas is one that I haven't seen for a very, very long time. Possibly since I was near Sofia's age. He was always up before everyone else in the house, and always fully dressed at the breakfast table -- old army habits, he claimed. That's just how things were done.
But today as I pass over a mug of freshly brewed coffee, my father, The Colonel, is sitting on the couch in his striped flannel pajamas.
My eyebrow raises ever so slightly, and he just shrugs half a shoulder, playing it off nonchalantly as he answers seriously.
"Sofia said everyone has to stay in pajamas on Christmas."
"At least until dinnertime," mom pipes up from beside him, giving me a huge grin, "she's awfully convincing."
"Apparently! I wonder what else she can get dad to do while you're here."
I grin at my father, who just gives me a bit of a huff as he sips his coffee, and I lean down to kiss his cheek. I'll take any opportunity to tease my normally strict, no-nonsense father, but more than anything it just fills me with happiness to see this side of him with my daughter. I never imagined them as grandparents when I was younger -- and especially not after we lost Tim -- but it's changed the older man in ways that are miraculous to see.
Sofia bounces excitedly by the tree, poring over the unwrapped gifts left by "Santa" -- many of which were exactly what she asked for in her letter to the North Pole -- and I settle onto the floor beside Callie, watching as she snaps some pictures.
"Mommy! Santa gave me an Olaf!"
A wide grin spreads across my face as I glance at Callie, and then back to watch Sofia hug her new stuffed snowman with a look of awe on her face. That damn snowman had been so hard to find -- sold out in nearly every store we went to last weekend -- but we'd been determined to find one. And it was worth it.
"I see that! He knew Olaf was your favourite!"
She plops down beside the tree and delights over the toy doctor kit and collection of Play-Doh, and the books and other toys left by Saint Nick, and once she's looked through those she starts passing out the other wrapped gifts, getting Callie to help her read the name tags.
"What a good little elf you are, Sofia!"
My mom watches her with rapt attention, a happy smile on her face as the girl flits about the living room. This Christmas morning is exactly how we used to spend it when I was younger -- at least when my dad was around -- and I can see the nostalgic look on her face as I remember being the Christmas elf myself, with Tim supervising and reading me the tags, directing me around the room.
We open our gifts one by one, laughing when Sofia starts to sing Jingle Bells in the middle of it all, and when she sticks bows to everyone, studiously trying to match them to our pajamas.
We got her a train set and a tricycle this year, and a bunch of books and art supplies, and of course some educational games thrown into the mix. From my parents she gets some adorable clothes and a set of building blocks, along with some DVDs and one of those new dolls that are all the rage these days. She’s absolutely spoiled, there’s no question about it, but when I see her so happy I have to admit I don’t really care for this one day of the year.
“This one is for you and your mama.”
I look up as my mom helps Sofia push a larger box toward me, that seems to weigh quite a bit. I hadn’t even noticed that one under the tree.
“For both of us?” I question, glancing at her.
She just smiles warmly, smoothing a little piece of wrapping paper out of Sofia’s hair as the girl plops down to sit beside me, and settles back in the corner of the couch herself.
“You’ll see. Open it, sweetheart."
Eyeing her one more time with a curious smile, I pull the bow off and tear off the wrapping paper with Sofia's help. A plain cardboard box is underneath, and I carefully use my nail to loosen the tape and open the top flaps. When I see what's inside, a wave of memories hits me out of nowhere, and I can't help the slight sheen of tears that starts to collect at the corners of my eyes.
"Oh...mom," I pull out the book that's on top almost reverently, "I didn't even know you still had these."
"The one thing I could never get rid of. I kept hoping someday you'd have someone to pass them on to."
She smiles when I look over, and a twinkle shines in her eye.
"I'm glad you do now."
The book I'd pulled off the top was a well-worn hardcover of the first of the Winnie-the-Pooh series -- Tim and I's absolute favorite set of books when we were kids. I open the cover, and sure enough there on the inside - in the messy scrawl of a seven or eight-year-old Tim - is an inscription: Property of Timothy and Arizona Robbins.
Callie scoots closer to look over my shoulder, and she smiles, wrapping her arm around my waist.
“That’s adorable.”
Sofia reaches for it, so I carefully hand her the book and dig deeper into the box, showing the books to the small girl as I pull them out and pile them between us. I find the rest of that series, along with my Peter Rabbit books, a handful of other classics that had all been my favourites, and...I can't help laugh when I glance into the bottom of the box.
"My entire series of Nancy Drew!"
Callie's eyes light up at the mention of what I know was one of her favourite series as well, and my mom laughs softly at the look on our faces.
"Now of course, Sofia might be a little young for those just yet."
"That's okay, cause I want to re-read them first," Callie reaches for the one in my hand and grins as she looks over the well worn hardcover, "this is amazing. My parents gave mine away when I was in university and I was so mad.”
Sofia is already engrossed in the Winnie-the-Pooh book, carefully flipping through the pages and peering at the classic illustrations, and I meet my mom’s eyes over her head and smile warmly.
“Merry Christmas, girls. “
“Thank you, mom.”
My reply comes softly, and I know she understands just how much this piece of my childhood means to me. Growing up, we moved around so many times, these books became such a staple in my life, and my brother’s. They moved to every single house with us, and they were constantly read and reread - first with our parents reading to us, then with Tim learning to read them to me, and eventually I learned to read with them too. There’s not a lot from my childhood that I’m nostalgic about, and there’s not a lot we kept once we grew out of it - but these are treasures. And I hope Sofia will get as much happiness from them as we did.
“Mama,” dark little eyes peer up at me, a delighted smile lighting up her features, “can we read this tonight?”
I grin down at her, affectionately tapping her little nose.
“You bet we can.”
“Looks like Callie still has one to open,” my father’s voice interrupts the moment, and I see him nod toward the little box still sitting in front of my wife, his eyebrows raised slightly with a smile, “awful tiny one.”
I glance over, biting my lip a little as I peer at the box with the shiny, metallic silver paper and elaborately curled ribbon. I’d been so caught up in Sofia, I forgot that Callie had yet to open her gift from me.
“Well...you know what they say, dad,” I pick it up and hold it out to her, “good things come in small packages.”
The brunette eyes me playfully, raising her eyebrow as she takes the gift from my palm and pulls the ribbon undone.
“Pretty sure this isn’t the pony I asked for.”
She unwraps the paper, her eyes widening slightly as the trademark turquoise box immediately gives away what’s inside, and when she opens the top a soft gasp tumbles from her lips.
“Arizona...”
Nestled inside the tiny box is a sparkling princess-cut diamond solitaire, the band in white gold that perfectly matches our wedding rings. I hadn’t been sure what exactly I was looking for when I bought it, but when I saw it in the jewelry store I knew that it was perfect. Its classic, simple elegance reminded me so much of my beautiful Calliope.
I watch as she lifts it from the box and gently slides it onto her finger, nestling it against her wedding band. They fit together perfectly - just like I hoped they would.
“Do you like it?”
I meet her eyes, a hint of nervousness tickling the edge of my stomach, but a second later when she looks up, her megawatt smile immediately quells any of those feelings.
“I love it. I love you.”
She leans in, capturing my lips in a kiss, and Sofia giggles happily behind us from where she now sits with my parents.
“Always kissin’!”
“Mm,” Callie hums lightly against my lips, kissing me softly again before she pulls back, “never enough kisses.”
*
Callie and my mom pull out all the stops and cook up a traditional holiday dinner, and we spend the rest of the day eating and laughing, and setting up Sofia’s new train set in the corner of the living room. We share a short Facetime call with Carlos in the evening, and before we know it the day is done and everyone is tucked into bed again - full, happy, and exhausted from all the excitement.
I wash my face in our bathroom and let out a small yawn as I pat it dry, hanging the towel back over the rack behind the door. I can’t help catch my reflection in the mirror over the sink, and I feel a small smile tug at my lips as my eyes drift downward to land on my stomach.
I’m slightly nauseous, my breasts are a little tender again, and after getting a positive on all four tests and officially missing a period, I'd run some blood work the other day at the hospital to confirm what I already knew. I am one hundred percent pregnant. And I can't hold it in any longer.
Fifteen minutes later, after finally getting Sofia to fall asleep for a second time, the brunette slips into our bedroom again and I watch a little nervously as she crosses the room and stops, eyeing the wrapped gift box that sits on her pillow.
“Another gift?”
She climbs into bed, gazing happily at her new ring as she holds up her left hand in the dim light.
“I think you got me enough already.”
I laugh softly, picking up the wrapped box and holding it out until she takes it.
“Just one more. I wanted to save this one until we were alone.”
“It’s naughty lingerie, isn’t it? I knew it.”
She pulls the bright red bow off the top and sets it on her nightstand, and proceeds to unwrap the paper and lift the lid from the smallish, flat box. I find myself holding in a breath, a nervous flutter running through my chest as she lifts the tissue paper and pulls out the soft cotton garment inside.
For a moment, the dark haired woman just holds up the teeny, tiny onesie covered in a print of yellow ducklings, her eyes widening as the pieces come together in her mind. She stares at me, a look of complete awe crossing her features, and I bite my lower lip slightly, mouth curving up into a smile before I whisper.
“Merry Christmas.”
I can see the joy colour her eyes as they widen even further, and she immediately scoots closer, her gaze dropping down to the same stomach I’ve been staring at for the last week.
“Oh my god. We’re...you’re...?!”
Laughing softly, I lay back when her palm makes contact with my skin, her hand gently pushing my tank top up and out of the way as she moves to kneel beside me. I watch as her eyes soften, just gazing at the place where a new life is starting to grow inside me.
“We’re having a baby, Calliope.”
Her absolutely delighted smile takes my breath away, and she looks down again, her palms smoothing reverently over the still flat plane of my abdomen. Her face carries a look of complete and utter amazement - and the love that shines from her eyes is an almost overwhelming force, making my heart swell with joy.
“Hi baby,” she whispers softly, leaning down to press a kiss to the middle of my stomach, “I love you so, so much, sweet baby.”
She kisses every inch of my exposed stomach, her thumbs rubbing soft circles over my hips, and she looks up to meet my eyes as I watch her happily.
“When did you...”
“Just over a week ago,” I smile, reaching down for her hand, “and it’s been really, really hard not to say anything until tonight. Best gift ever though, right?”
Callie laughs, shifting up to lay beside me, her hand sliding back into place protectively over my middle.
“I can’t believe it. This is amazing.”
She leans in, kissing me sweetly, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she pulls back only a fraction. I kiss her again before shifting slowly onto my side, my back pressing up against her, and I immediately feel her warm body curve itself around mine as she pulls the covers over us.
“I love you so much, Arizona. I am so...so incredibly...”
“Happy. Truly and completely happy.”
I finish for her, tilting my head slightly so I can see her face. She smiles at me then, lowering her head to nuzzle against the back of my neck, and she settles quietly with her arm around me, her palm softly landing under my tank top and against the skin of my stomach.
“So happy.”