I’M IN A MASSIVE, overstuffed chair with my husband, and I’m sitting on his lap. Spencer has his arms wrapped around me, and they’re just the comfort that I need. He knows how I feel about this house and what happened in it. He was there when my mother died here.
Whit refuses to let that incident define this house or our family.
“It was an accident,” he stressed to me the last time we talked about it. “Too many generations of Lancasters have passed through these halls. I’m not about to let what happened taint this home forever. I can’t. I have a family to raise.”
He and Summer have a beautiful family and they’re currently raising them in this house. The house where they were married. A house that is full of laughter and joy. Where young children seem to spill out of every room, including my very own.
My son, Christopher.
He’s with his cousins who are the same age—Vaughn and Beau. And Pru and Paris, my sister’s twins. They’re all laughing and stuffing their faces full of food. Mostly desserts. They’re so excited that they can party with us—a direct quote from Christopher. They’ve watched us enjoying our New Year’s Eve party for the last few years and now they’re an actual part of it.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen them more excited.
“Hey. Are you all right?” Spence murmurs close to my forehead, just before he presses his lips to it in the softest kiss.
Nodding, I lean into him, grateful to be tucked away in this little corner, watching everything unfold. I much prefer being an observer, especially as I get older. “This has turned into a perfect night.”
“Being snowed in with your family and all these children?” Spence sounds amused. It might be his own personal form of hell, but he doesn’t seem that upset about it.
When is he ever? He’s the balm to my soul. The calm to my storm.
“Yes.” My voice is firm. “I’m so tired of schmoozing with people I barely know at this party. Spending the last day of the year with my family is the best way to celebrate the old and ring in the new.”
“It’s going to be a good year.” He kisses my cheek this time and I snuggle closer, not caring who can see us. We’re still in love.
Every adult in this room is in love with their significant other. It’s a beautiful thing to witness, because after dealing with the horrible nightmare that was all of our parents, we’re doing things right with this next generation.
I’m proud of it. Proud of us. This is how it should be.
“Hey, Aunt Sylvie. Uncle Spencer.” Iris appears in front of the overstuffed chair we’re sitting in, aiming a polaroid camera right at us. “I’m going to take your photo. Smile!”
I tilt my head toward Spencer’s, a closed-mouth smile on my face as we pose. She hits the button, the flash blinding me for a moment. Spencer laughs, his arms tightening around me.
“Thanks, Iris. Now all I can see is spots,” Spencer tells her.
“Sorry.” Iris shrugs her slender shoulders, reminding me of a young Summer. “Thanks for the photo! Byeeeee.”
She’s gone as fast as she appeared, stopping and snapping photos of everyone she runs into. I watch her go, grateful that she’s so free and comfortable in this house. In her life. I remember being that age.
I was miserable. Scared.
Sick.
“You get melancholy every time we’re in this house,” Spencer murmurs to me. “And I hate it.”
“I’m sorry.” I turn to him, forcing a smile. “Maybe I need some cheering up.”
“I’ve got the perfect solution.” He gently pushes me out of his lap and I have no choice but to stand. “We’re going to dance.”
“Dance?” I’m shocked. “Spencer, you don’t really dance.”
He has terrible rhythm. It’s almost amusing how bad he is.
“I do now. Come on.” He stands, taking my hand and leading me to the center of the room where the furniture is already pushed out of the way. “Whit, we need some dance music.”
“Dance music?” Carolina asks. “Are we dancing now?”
I send my sister a helpless look, not sure where Spencer is going with this. Usually, we don’t start dancing until closer to midnight and when we’re full of alcohol. The inhibitions ae loosened and we’re a little freer. Able to make fools of ourselves without any worry since we’re drunk.
“We are,” Spencer says firmly, just as the song switches to one with a faster beat. “Come on, kids. Let’s all dance!”
The children join us, their faces full of joy as they start be-bopping all around the room. Whatever they lack in skill they make up with enthusiasm, and I feel myself getting caught up in the pure joy of moving my body and laughing with my family. The song switches to another one, the children screaming their approval and while the lyrics are silly, I can see why the children are loving it.
Even August is dancing with us, although reluctantly. He’s too self-conscious, too aware that others might be watching him and oh, how I can relate.
I go to my nephew, stopping directly in front of him and grabbing his hands. He lets me, his smile turning genuine as I swing him around, the both of us spinning so fast the room starts to blur.
Throwing my head back, I laugh and laugh and when we finally slow down, I’m still a little dizzy, stumbling over my feet.
“You okay, Mom?”
I turn to find my beautiful boy in front of me, his expression full of concern. Even a little bit of worry. He’s not used to seeing his mother acting like a fool. Or maybe he is.
He might think I’m drunk, though I’ve only been sipping on a single glass of wine all night.
“I’m great, my sweet.” I wrap him up in my arms and hold him close, breathing deep his Christopher scent. This boy of mine is going to turn into a young man soon and I can hardly stand the thought. “How are you? Are you having a good time?”
“This party is fun,” he says once I pull away from him. “No wonder you guys have it every year.”
“It’s usually a lot stuffier and there’s not nearly as much dancing,” I tell him, which is the truth.
Christopher frowns. “So it’s not as fun.”
“No.” I shake my head. “Being with family is the best part of it all.”
He’s nodding his agreement, his smile growing. “I agree. And the food.”
I laugh. “Yes, and the food.”
Spencer is suddenly standing beside me, towering over me as he slides his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his side. “You two going to dance some more?”
“She danced with August, not me,” Christopher points out.
“Then I believe it’s your turn next, don’t you think?” Spencer glances at me and I nod, reaching out to take our son’s hand.
Spencer’s arm falls away from me and I take both of my son’s hands, spinning around with him much like I did with August. Eventually Vaughn joins us, as well as Carolina’s twin girls, and soon we’re all turning in a large circle. Every one of us connected, even August.
Even Whit.
I smile at Spencer, who’s directly across from me, as we all hold up our linked hands at the end of the song, some of us cheering. But me?
I mouth to my husband, thank you.
Spencer always knows exactly what I need.
