The First Snowflake {a MerDerZola one shot}
Disclaimer: Shonda owns the show. The Boy Least Likely To owns the song used for the title. I’m just borrowing both.
Because I haven’t written a one shot since September, I figured it was time for another. This is set on Meredith and Derek’s first Christmas with Zola, sometime after 8x10. We could all use some Christmas happiness, right? Enjoy!
Zola sits on the living room floor next to the Christmas tree in her Santa pajamas, flanked on either side by her parents. She’s captivated by the bead maze sitting in front of her, rolling the colorful, wooden shapes from one end of the winding wires to the other. There’s still a sea of unopened presents surrounding her, but no one’s in any rush to open them all at once. It’s only ten in the morning. They have all day to enjoy this.
Getting Zola back for good was the Christmas miracle they never expected; therefore, this Christmas was an impromptu event: buying a tree, digging the decoration boxes out of the attic, and nailing the stockings to the mantle above the fireplace, a purple one between Meredith and Derek’s, hand stitched with the name Zola on it in big, white letters.
The Saturday after Zola was officially made theirs, the three of them scoured every aisle of the toy store, buying her Christmas presents. They went a little overboard, but because she was with her foster family on her first birthday back in October, they chalked up the triple digit toy store bill to making up for lost time.
“Zola, look at Daddy, Princess,” Derek says, ready to snap another picture of her.
Zola looks over at him and smiles, showing him her little baby teeth as though she were posing, then goes back to playing with her toy.
“Beautiful,” Meredith says, leaning down to kiss the top of her head, her soft curls still wild after waking up.
“Wanna open another one?” Derek asks her. He slides a penguin-wrapped present in front of her, and peels down a small strip to help her.
After unwrapping a few presents already, Zola’s mastered the skill, ripping the wrapping paper off in small shreds with her chubby hands.
“Good job,” Derek praises.
“What is it, Zo?” Meredith asks excitedly, smiling as Zola’s mouth forms a small ‘o’ shape when she sees what’s inside the clear plastic front of the box.
“Emo,” Zola whispers in awe, pointing to him.
“Emo,” Derek echoes, chuckling. “The dark side of Elmo.”
Meredith laughs, too. “I prefer Emo, actually,” she says, opening the box, then untwisting the ties that hold the Elmo doll in place.
“What kind of batteries does that need?” Derek asks.
“Um.” Meredith reads the side of the box and scans for the directions. “Three double As.”
Derek opens a fresh pack of batteries and grabs the small screwdriver off the table. “Elmo needs a quick surgery, then he’s all yours,” he says, popping off the plastic back of the plush doll and inserting the batteries. After reassembling it, he hands it to her. “Squeeze his belly, Zo.”
Meredith does it first to show her, then Zola does it herself, shrieking with giggles when Elmo wiggles his hips back and forth. She claps her hands and hugs him tight, laughing even harder when Elmo does it again.
The action is small but significant, and both Meredith and Derek smile proudly at her. As doctors, they know the possible limitations of having a baby born with spina bifida, but so far, Zola is reaching her milestones like any other child, if only slightly delayed. She’d been sitting up by herself since before they’d even been given temporary custody months ago, and had been making more progress every day, from crawling to scooting around on her bottom to standing briefly if she held their hands.
They celebrated everything Zola did, big or small-not because they were told she may not do them, but because they knew she would.
While Zola is busily captivated by Elmo, Derek seizes the opportunity to pull one of Meredith’s gifts out from under the tree. He sets it in her lap, clad in a pair of his flannel pajama bottoms. “Merry Christmas.”
“More? You already got me a lot stuff,” Meredith says, running her fingers over the smooth, candy-cane wrapping paper.
“Yeah, but this one’s my favorite. I was gonna hold off and wait until tonight to give it to you, but I couldn’t wait any longer.”
Meredith cuts through the paper with her finger, and neatly peels it off. She eyes the wooden box in her hand curiously. “Nothing’s going to pop out at me, right?”
Derek laughs as he hands Zola a Cheerio from her Minnie Mouse snack bowl. “No. Just open it.”
“Okay,” Meredith says, carefully sliding back the brass clasp on the side. Her eyes grow as wide with excitement, and she looks up at him. “Where did you find these?”
“An eBay auction. The bidding was tied between two buyers, then I joined in, outbid both of them, and boom. Sold,” Derek grins. “The second I saw them, I knew I had to get them for you.”
“Used in the Civil War?” Meredith asks in disbelief, reading the certificate of authenticity that came with the scalpels and other surgical instruments. “Is it weird that this turns me on?”
Derek’s grin widens. “I admit, that’s part of the reason why I wanted to buy them.”
“Hmm, well, I have a feeling there will be some Christmas S-E-X-I-N-G during naptime today,” Meredith replies, spelling out the word so that Zola wouldn’t repeat it. “I love them. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“We should put them in a glass case or something on the mantle at the new house,” she says.
“It’ll be our centerpiece. We need to make everyone jealous, especially Yang. She’s still bitter about the kidney in a jar,” Derek says, something that gives him a sense of satisfaction, especially when she insists on kicking Derek out of bed for her sporadic, can’t-wait-until-they-see-each-other-at-work-in-an-hour girl talks with his wife.
“Yes, she is,” Meredith agrees, admiring each instrument in the wooden case. “There’s even a scalpel hook chain in here. They don’t even make those anymore.”
“It’s a real collector’s item,” Derek says before looking at Zola. “And one day when you’re a fancy neurosurgeon like Mommy and Daddy, we’ll give it to you.”
Zola smiles up at him. “Dad,” she points with certainty.
Derek can’t help but scoop her into his lap when she says it, and it hugs her close. “That’s right, Zo. I’m your Dad forever,” he promises. “And Mommy, too.”
“Ma,” Zola repeats, pointing to Meredith this time.
Meredith leans in and kisses her daughter’s forehead. “Forever and ever,” she echoes.
She gently closes the box of scalpels, stands up, and puts it on the mantle, mindful that Zola is at the age where everything is a toy waiting to be played with, from hairbrushes to cell phones to the tampons she found in Meredith’s purse, all of which are a lot less dangerous than a box of shiny, vintage knives.
“Your turn,” Meredith decides, rummaging under the tree for a gift she’d made for him.
Derek puts the gift on his knee and Zola helps him open it. “Alright, let’s see what it is,” he says, popping open the silver tin with holly leaves printed on it.
“Ooh,” Zola says with delighted interest.
“Macadamia nut cookies. These are my favorite,” Derek says. He hands one to Zola who happily accepts it while he tries to recall when he’d mentioned this little detail about himself to Meredith.
Meredith senses his confusion, and she laughs, glad to surprise him the way he just surprised her with the scalpels. “I made them yesterday while you were at work. Zola helped. So did April, although I’m pretty sure the only reason she helped is so I wouldn’t accidentally burn the house down.”
“How did you know I loved these?” he asks.
Her heart squeezes inside her chest when she thinks back to when she found out Derek had a thing for macadamia nut cookies, but she smiles anyway. They were here, and alive, and happy, and that’s what mattered. “I have my ways,” she shrugs, and leaves it at that.
Meredith rummaged through the kitchen cabinet, busily distracting herself from the constant, cramping pain as her cruel, betraying, dysfunctional uterus sought revenge inside her. The OB said to expect discomfort and some spotting after the D&C, but she was pretty sure that had been the understatement of a lifetime. The pain meds. did little to soothe her, and it didn’t help that every minute not spent focusing on the pain was spent on Derek, who was laying in a bed in the CICU at the hospital, recovering from heart surgery after nearly dying in front of her, once on the catwalk, and once in the OR.
She gripped the countertop until her knuckles turned white, leaning her head against the cool wood of the cabinet door. She was so preoccupied with pain that she didn’t hear Derek’s mother enter the kitchen.
“Meredith?” she said quietly, standing behind her.
Meredith quickly turned around and put on the best fake smile she could muster. “Oh. Hi. I was just looking for something to bring up to Derek at the hospital tomorrow. The nurses say he’s not really eating the food they give him, so I thought maybe I could make him something he likes. But dropping a box of Muesli or a salad on his tray doesn’t exactly seem comforting,” she said, annoyed by her own rambling. “Is everything okay?”
“I keep thinking about Derek. I’ve been tossing and turning for hours, but I couldn’t sleep, so I came down to make tea,” Carolyn explained, eyeing Meredith from head to toe with that all-knowing mom look. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine,” Meredith lied. “Just couldn’t sleep either.” She walked over to the cabinet next to the fridge and pointed to the lower shelf with the assortment of flavored teabags, most of which were Izzie’s back before she left. “Here’s the tea.”
“Thank you,” Carolyn smiled, reaching for a chamomile one. “Would you like a cup? I’d be more than happy to make you some.”
“No, that’s okay; thanks, though,” Meredith replied. A wave of nausea from the pain hit her, and she swallowed thickly, breathing through her nose until it passed. She knew she was doing a crappy job of seeming fine, but she barely had the energy to stand let alone put on an act.
Carolyn filled a mug with water, then heated it in the microwave. She pursed her lips the same way Derek did when he was itching to say something, and like Derek, couldn’t hold back out of concern. “I know we don’t see each other that much, but you’re still my daughter-in-law. You can talk to me, sweetheart. What’s wrong?”
She wrapped a warm hand around Meredith’s shoulders and squeezed. It was the first time anyone’s really comforted her since the son of a bitch gunman put a bullet through her husband’s chest, and as much as she tried not to, she broke.
“I had a miscarriage two days ago. I was pregnant, and I’m just… it hurts, that’s all,” Meredith said, cursing herself for spilling out her sorrows to a woman who almost lost her son. She knew it probably wasn’t fair, but it just felt so damn good to let it out.
“Oh my God,” Carolyn whispered, her grip growing more snug around Meredith’s shoulders. “Honey, I’m so sorry.”
“Derek didn’t even know I was pregnant. I still haven’t told him,” Meredith said.
The microwave beeped after the mug of water was done heating, but Carolyn ignored it, instead pulling out a kitchen chair and gesturing for Meredith to sit. She filled up a glass of water and handed it to her. “Small sips.”
Meredith nodded, taking it from her. The water was cool as it slid down her throat, and she felt her nausea dissipating a little the more she drank. Carolyn put a few graham crackers on a dish, then set it on the table. “These should soothe your stomach,” she said.
Meredith smiled, wiping the tears off her cheeks with the sleeve of her shirt. It didn’t take much to figure out that this woman raised Derek Shepherd. “Thank you.”
While Meredith ate, Carolyn quietly prepared her tea, then joined Meredith at the kitchen table. “You’ll tell him when the time is right. You’re both alive, and you’ll get through this. Everything will be okay. You’ll see,” Carolyn promised, reaching across the table for Meredith’s hand. “One day at a time.”
“Yeah?” Meredith asked, her voice quiet but hopeful.
“I didn’t think I’d make it after Derek’s father died. There are days when I didn’t want to pull myself out of bed, but I did, because I had five kids who needed me. And those kids grew up, became doctors, gave me fourteen, beautiful grandchildren, and more happiness than I could’ve ever hoped for. And one day, you and Derek will give me another.”
Meredith knew where Derek got his optimism, too. She let out a breath, and for the first time in days, it didn’t feel like she was drowning. “Okay.”
“I don’t know if you had anything in mind to bring Derek, but macadamia nut cookies are his favorite,” Carolyn said before taking a sip of her tea.
“Really?”
“It’s one of the few vices he allows himself once in a while. He’s loved them since he was a little boy,” Carolyn said. “If you want, we could make them in the morning.”
Meredith's lips turned upward into a small smile. “That would be nice.”
Zola hands Meredith a cookie from the tin, the front of her red pajamas covered in crumbs. “Ma?” she offers.
Meredith is pulled from her thoughts, and accepts the cookie. “Thank you, sweetie,” she says. “Is it yummy?”
“Ummy,” Zola says as she chews.
“You really made these?” Derek asks, biting into one.
“Yes. Why? Are they terrible?” Meredith asks back in worry.
Derek laughs and shakes his head. “No, they’re great. That’s why I asked.”
“Haha,” Meredith says wryly, twisting her legs into a pretzel when Zola crawls into her lap. “Well, I’m glad you like them.”
“I really do. Thank you,” he says.
“I have another one for you,” Meredith says, managing to reach under the tree for his gift with Zola on her lap. She finds the cube-shaped box wrapped in gold paper, and hands it to him. “Here you go.”
Derek pulls the wrapping paper off, then removes the box’s white lid. His face sobers when he realizes what’s inside, and Meredith can see the tears threatening to spill over his eyelids. “This is my Dad’s watch,” he says softly.
“Yeah. I um… your Mom called a couple weeks ago to ask what size clothes Zola wears, so she could send her some for Christmas, and we got to talking. She told me how much that watch means to your family, and she asked if I would give it to you,” Meredith says, hugging her arm around Zola’s belly.
He doesn’t say anything; he just keeps staring reverently at the watch in the box like it’s a sacred artifact. And really, it is.
When the silence becomes unbearable, Meredith has to break it, and she bites her lip before speaking. “I know it’s hard for you to… I didn’t mean to put a damper on things. It’s just-”
“Mer, no. This is…” His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows. “Thank you.”
Meredith rubs her hand over his arm. “She wanted you to have something of your Dad’s. You’re a dad now, too, and she knew it would mean a lot to you.”
Derek responds with a kiss, one that makes all of the heartache they’ve ever been through melt away like snow. When they pull back, Meredith rests her chin on his shoulder, and sees the engraved snowflake ornament on the Christmas tree from Derek’s mom, the one they got in the mail last week.
To Zola, My Fifteenth Little Snowflake
Love Always, Grandma
After Zola’s nap that afternoon, during which time they had their traditional Christmas sex, they did some marathon cleaning: getting rid of all the wrapping paper on the floor, arranging all of Zola’s new toys and still unopened presents neatly under the tree, and making the house look presentable enough for company.
Zola sits on the floor in her new green dress that Derek’s mom sent, and a pair of sparkly, white tights, her hair in poofy pigtails. She’s back to playing with her Elmo doll, still getting a kick out of him every time he wiggled his hips.
Meredith is setting the table for dinner, trying to remember how to arrange the forks, knives and spoons the way Izzie taught her years ago, when she glances up to check on Zola. The fork in her hand clatters onto a plate when she sees Zola holding onto the coffee table, walking toward the open tin of macadamia nut cookies on the other end of it.
She forgets to breathe for a few seconds, and tears sting her eyes. “Derek, she’s walking!” she calls out to him.
Derek abandons the turkey he’d been carving in the kitchen, and is standing next to his wife seconds later, watching as Zola took her first real steps on her own two feet, something they were told she might only be able to do with help of leg braces or forearm crutches, or may never do at all. But here she was, doing it all on her own.
Zola is steady and determined as she walks, finally reaching the tin and pulling a victory cookie from inside. Meredith smiles at her daughter, and lets her tears fall. She didn’t know when she sat at the kitchen table with Carolyn Shepherd a year and a half ago that two Christmases later, this would be her life. That she’d have a healthy husband and a beautiful daughter that made her believe in miracles. She’s grateful for both every day.
Snow kept falling
But no two snowflakes
Are ever the same
Each one is special in its
Own little way
And that first little snowflake is still
Special to me
Because I haven’t written a one shot since September, I figured it was time for another. This is set on Meredith and Derek’s first Christmas with Zola, sometime after 8x10. We could all use some Christmas happiness, right? Enjoy!
Zola sits on the living room floor next to the Christmas tree in her Santa pajamas, flanked on either side by her parents. She’s captivated by the bead maze sitting in front of her, rolling the colorful, wooden shapes from one end of the winding wires to the other. There’s still a sea of unopened presents surrounding her, but no one’s in any rush to open them all at once. It’s only ten in the morning. They have all day to enjoy this.
Getting Zola back for good was the Christmas miracle they never expected; therefore, this Christmas was an impromptu event: buying a tree, digging the decoration boxes out of the attic, and nailing the stockings to the mantle above the fireplace, a purple one between Meredith and Derek’s, hand stitched with the name Zola on it in big, white letters.
The Saturday after Zola was officially made theirs, the three of them scoured every aisle of the toy store, buying her Christmas presents. They went a little overboard, but because she was with her foster family on her first birthday back in October, they chalked up the triple digit toy store bill to making up for lost time.
“Zola, look at Daddy, Princess,” Derek says, ready to snap another picture of her.
Zola looks over at him and smiles, showing him her little baby teeth as though she were posing, then goes back to playing with her toy.
“Beautiful,” Meredith says, leaning down to kiss the top of her head, her soft curls still wild after waking up.
“Wanna open another one?” Derek asks her. He slides a penguin-wrapped present in front of her, and peels down a small strip to help her.
After unwrapping a few presents already, Zola’s mastered the skill, ripping the wrapping paper off in small shreds with her chubby hands.
“Good job,” Derek praises.
“What is it, Zo?” Meredith asks excitedly, smiling as Zola’s mouth forms a small ‘o’ shape when she sees what’s inside the clear plastic front of the box.
“Emo,” Zola whispers in awe, pointing to him.
“Emo,” Derek echoes, chuckling. “The dark side of Elmo.”
Meredith laughs, too. “I prefer Emo, actually,” she says, opening the box, then untwisting the ties that hold the Elmo doll in place.
“What kind of batteries does that need?” Derek asks.
“Um.” Meredith reads the side of the box and scans for the directions. “Three double As.”
Derek opens a fresh pack of batteries and grabs the small screwdriver off the table. “Elmo needs a quick surgery, then he’s all yours,” he says, popping off the plastic back of the plush doll and inserting the batteries. After reassembling it, he hands it to her. “Squeeze his belly, Zo.”
Meredith does it first to show her, then Zola does it herself, shrieking with giggles when Elmo wiggles his hips back and forth. She claps her hands and hugs him tight, laughing even harder when Elmo does it again.
The action is small but significant, and both Meredith and Derek smile proudly at her. As doctors, they know the possible limitations of having a baby born with spina bifida, but so far, Zola is reaching her milestones like any other child, if only slightly delayed. She’d been sitting up by herself since before they’d even been given temporary custody months ago, and had been making more progress every day, from crawling to scooting around on her bottom to standing briefly if she held their hands.
They celebrated everything Zola did, big or small-not because they were told she may not do them, but because they knew she would.
While Zola is busily captivated by Elmo, Derek seizes the opportunity to pull one of Meredith’s gifts out from under the tree. He sets it in her lap, clad in a pair of his flannel pajama bottoms. “Merry Christmas.”
“More? You already got me a lot stuff,” Meredith says, running her fingers over the smooth, candy-cane wrapping paper.
“Yeah, but this one’s my favorite. I was gonna hold off and wait until tonight to give it to you, but I couldn’t wait any longer.”
Meredith cuts through the paper with her finger, and neatly peels it off. She eyes the wooden box in her hand curiously. “Nothing’s going to pop out at me, right?”
Derek laughs as he hands Zola a Cheerio from her Minnie Mouse snack bowl. “No. Just open it.”
“Okay,” Meredith says, carefully sliding back the brass clasp on the side. Her eyes grow as wide with excitement, and she looks up at him. “Where did you find these?”
“An eBay auction. The bidding was tied between two buyers, then I joined in, outbid both of them, and boom. Sold,” Derek grins. “The second I saw them, I knew I had to get them for you.”
“Used in the Civil War?” Meredith asks in disbelief, reading the certificate of authenticity that came with the scalpels and other surgical instruments. “Is it weird that this turns me on?”
Derek’s grin widens. “I admit, that’s part of the reason why I wanted to buy them.”
“Hmm, well, I have a feeling there will be some Christmas S-E-X-I-N-G during naptime today,” Meredith replies, spelling out the word so that Zola wouldn’t repeat it. “I love them. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“We should put them in a glass case or something on the mantle at the new house,” she says.
“It’ll be our centerpiece. We need to make everyone jealous, especially Yang. She’s still bitter about the kidney in a jar,” Derek says, something that gives him a sense of satisfaction, especially when she insists on kicking Derek out of bed for her sporadic, can’t-wait-until-they-see-each-other-at-work-in-an-hour girl talks with his wife.
“Yes, she is,” Meredith agrees, admiring each instrument in the wooden case. “There’s even a scalpel hook chain in here. They don’t even make those anymore.”
“It’s a real collector’s item,” Derek says before looking at Zola. “And one day when you’re a fancy neurosurgeon like Mommy and Daddy, we’ll give it to you.”
Zola smiles up at him. “Dad,” she points with certainty.
Derek can’t help but scoop her into his lap when she says it, and it hugs her close. “That’s right, Zo. I’m your Dad forever,” he promises. “And Mommy, too.”
“Ma,” Zola repeats, pointing to Meredith this time.
Meredith leans in and kisses her daughter’s forehead. “Forever and ever,” she echoes.
She gently closes the box of scalpels, stands up, and puts it on the mantle, mindful that Zola is at the age where everything is a toy waiting to be played with, from hairbrushes to cell phones to the tampons she found in Meredith’s purse, all of which are a lot less dangerous than a box of shiny, vintage knives.
“Your turn,” Meredith decides, rummaging under the tree for a gift she’d made for him.
Derek puts the gift on his knee and Zola helps him open it. “Alright, let’s see what it is,” he says, popping open the silver tin with holly leaves printed on it.
“Ooh,” Zola says with delighted interest.
“Macadamia nut cookies. These are my favorite,” Derek says. He hands one to Zola who happily accepts it while he tries to recall when he’d mentioned this little detail about himself to Meredith.
Meredith senses his confusion, and she laughs, glad to surprise him the way he just surprised her with the scalpels. “I made them yesterday while you were at work. Zola helped. So did April, although I’m pretty sure the only reason she helped is so I wouldn’t accidentally burn the house down.”
“How did you know I loved these?” he asks.
Her heart squeezes inside her chest when she thinks back to when she found out Derek had a thing for macadamia nut cookies, but she smiles anyway. They were here, and alive, and happy, and that’s what mattered. “I have my ways,” she shrugs, and leaves it at that.
Meredith rummaged through the kitchen cabinet, busily distracting herself from the constant, cramping pain as her cruel, betraying, dysfunctional uterus sought revenge inside her. The OB said to expect discomfort and some spotting after the D&C, but she was pretty sure that had been the understatement of a lifetime. The pain meds. did little to soothe her, and it didn’t help that every minute not spent focusing on the pain was spent on Derek, who was laying in a bed in the CICU at the hospital, recovering from heart surgery after nearly dying in front of her, once on the catwalk, and once in the OR.
She gripped the countertop until her knuckles turned white, leaning her head against the cool wood of the cabinet door. She was so preoccupied with pain that she didn’t hear Derek’s mother enter the kitchen.
“Meredith?” she said quietly, standing behind her.
Meredith quickly turned around and put on the best fake smile she could muster. “Oh. Hi. I was just looking for something to bring up to Derek at the hospital tomorrow. The nurses say he’s not really eating the food they give him, so I thought maybe I could make him something he likes. But dropping a box of Muesli or a salad on his tray doesn’t exactly seem comforting,” she said, annoyed by her own rambling. “Is everything okay?”
“I keep thinking about Derek. I’ve been tossing and turning for hours, but I couldn’t sleep, so I came down to make tea,” Carolyn explained, eyeing Meredith from head to toe with that all-knowing mom look. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine,” Meredith lied. “Just couldn’t sleep either.” She walked over to the cabinet next to the fridge and pointed to the lower shelf with the assortment of flavored teabags, most of which were Izzie’s back before she left. “Here’s the tea.”
“Thank you,” Carolyn smiled, reaching for a chamomile one. “Would you like a cup? I’d be more than happy to make you some.”
“No, that’s okay; thanks, though,” Meredith replied. A wave of nausea from the pain hit her, and she swallowed thickly, breathing through her nose until it passed. She knew she was doing a crappy job of seeming fine, but she barely had the energy to stand let alone put on an act.
Carolyn filled a mug with water, then heated it in the microwave. She pursed her lips the same way Derek did when he was itching to say something, and like Derek, couldn’t hold back out of concern. “I know we don’t see each other that much, but you’re still my daughter-in-law. You can talk to me, sweetheart. What’s wrong?”
She wrapped a warm hand around Meredith’s shoulders and squeezed. It was the first time anyone’s really comforted her since the son of a bitch gunman put a bullet through her husband’s chest, and as much as she tried not to, she broke.
“I had a miscarriage two days ago. I was pregnant, and I’m just… it hurts, that’s all,” Meredith said, cursing herself for spilling out her sorrows to a woman who almost lost her son. She knew it probably wasn’t fair, but it just felt so damn good to let it out.
“Oh my God,” Carolyn whispered, her grip growing more snug around Meredith’s shoulders. “Honey, I’m so sorry.”
“Derek didn’t even know I was pregnant. I still haven’t told him,” Meredith said.
The microwave beeped after the mug of water was done heating, but Carolyn ignored it, instead pulling out a kitchen chair and gesturing for Meredith to sit. She filled up a glass of water and handed it to her. “Small sips.”
Meredith nodded, taking it from her. The water was cool as it slid down her throat, and she felt her nausea dissipating a little the more she drank. Carolyn put a few graham crackers on a dish, then set it on the table. “These should soothe your stomach,” she said.
Meredith smiled, wiping the tears off her cheeks with the sleeve of her shirt. It didn’t take much to figure out that this woman raised Derek Shepherd. “Thank you.”
While Meredith ate, Carolyn quietly prepared her tea, then joined Meredith at the kitchen table. “You’ll tell him when the time is right. You’re both alive, and you’ll get through this. Everything will be okay. You’ll see,” Carolyn promised, reaching across the table for Meredith’s hand. “One day at a time.”
“Yeah?” Meredith asked, her voice quiet but hopeful.
“I didn’t think I’d make it after Derek’s father died. There are days when I didn’t want to pull myself out of bed, but I did, because I had five kids who needed me. And those kids grew up, became doctors, gave me fourteen, beautiful grandchildren, and more happiness than I could’ve ever hoped for. And one day, you and Derek will give me another.”
Meredith knew where Derek got his optimism, too. She let out a breath, and for the first time in days, it didn’t feel like she was drowning. “Okay.”
“I don’t know if you had anything in mind to bring Derek, but macadamia nut cookies are his favorite,” Carolyn said before taking a sip of her tea.
“Really?”
“It’s one of the few vices he allows himself once in a while. He’s loved them since he was a little boy,” Carolyn said. “If you want, we could make them in the morning.”
Meredith's lips turned upward into a small smile. “That would be nice.”
Zola hands Meredith a cookie from the tin, the front of her red pajamas covered in crumbs. “Ma?” she offers.
Meredith is pulled from her thoughts, and accepts the cookie. “Thank you, sweetie,” she says. “Is it yummy?”
“Ummy,” Zola says as she chews.
“You really made these?” Derek asks, biting into one.
“Yes. Why? Are they terrible?” Meredith asks back in worry.
Derek laughs and shakes his head. “No, they’re great. That’s why I asked.”
“Haha,” Meredith says wryly, twisting her legs into a pretzel when Zola crawls into her lap. “Well, I’m glad you like them.”
“I really do. Thank you,” he says.
“I have another one for you,” Meredith says, managing to reach under the tree for his gift with Zola on her lap. She finds the cube-shaped box wrapped in gold paper, and hands it to him. “Here you go.”
Derek pulls the wrapping paper off, then removes the box’s white lid. His face sobers when he realizes what’s inside, and Meredith can see the tears threatening to spill over his eyelids. “This is my Dad’s watch,” he says softly.
“Yeah. I um… your Mom called a couple weeks ago to ask what size clothes Zola wears, so she could send her some for Christmas, and we got to talking. She told me how much that watch means to your family, and she asked if I would give it to you,” Meredith says, hugging her arm around Zola’s belly.
He doesn’t say anything; he just keeps staring reverently at the watch in the box like it’s a sacred artifact. And really, it is.
When the silence becomes unbearable, Meredith has to break it, and she bites her lip before speaking. “I know it’s hard for you to… I didn’t mean to put a damper on things. It’s just-”
“Mer, no. This is…” His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows. “Thank you.”
Meredith rubs her hand over his arm. “She wanted you to have something of your Dad’s. You’re a dad now, too, and she knew it would mean a lot to you.”
Derek responds with a kiss, one that makes all of the heartache they’ve ever been through melt away like snow. When they pull back, Meredith rests her chin on his shoulder, and sees the engraved snowflake ornament on the Christmas tree from Derek’s mom, the one they got in the mail last week.
To Zola, My Fifteenth Little Snowflake
Love Always, Grandma
After Zola’s nap that afternoon, during which time they had their traditional Christmas sex, they did some marathon cleaning: getting rid of all the wrapping paper on the floor, arranging all of Zola’s new toys and still unopened presents neatly under the tree, and making the house look presentable enough for company.
Zola sits on the floor in her new green dress that Derek’s mom sent, and a pair of sparkly, white tights, her hair in poofy pigtails. She’s back to playing with her Elmo doll, still getting a kick out of him every time he wiggled his hips.
Meredith is setting the table for dinner, trying to remember how to arrange the forks, knives and spoons the way Izzie taught her years ago, when she glances up to check on Zola. The fork in her hand clatters onto a plate when she sees Zola holding onto the coffee table, walking toward the open tin of macadamia nut cookies on the other end of it.
She forgets to breathe for a few seconds, and tears sting her eyes. “Derek, she’s walking!” she calls out to him.
Derek abandons the turkey he’d been carving in the kitchen, and is standing next to his wife seconds later, watching as Zola took her first real steps on her own two feet, something they were told she might only be able to do with help of leg braces or forearm crutches, or may never do at all. But here she was, doing it all on her own.
Zola is steady and determined as she walks, finally reaching the tin and pulling a victory cookie from inside. Meredith smiles at her daughter, and lets her tears fall. She didn’t know when she sat at the kitchen table with Carolyn Shepherd a year and a half ago that two Christmases later, this would be her life. That she’d have a healthy husband and a beautiful daughter that made her believe in miracles. She’s grateful for both every day.
Snow kept falling
But no two snowflakes
Are ever the same
Each one is special in its
Own little way
And that first little snowflake is still
Special to me