Aqua - Christmas in New York City (Aqua Romance Travel Series) by Amanda S. Jones
Authors: Amanda S. Jones
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PART ONE
The 24 days of Christmas
Christmas…is not an external event at all, but a piece of one’s home that one carries in one’s heart.
Freya Stark
Make a Wish
Casey clapped her gloved hands as she called out with Harry and the rest of the crowd at the Rockefeller Center: “Five, four, three, two, one!” In an instant the 30,000 lights lit up the enormous evergreen and Casey was back in her childhood, her father lifting her onto his shoulders, her mother supporting her as she reached out her chubby fingers to touch the star.
She continued to clap among the shouts from the crowd and joined in the singing of Joy to the World . Tears pricked her eyes and she turned toward Harry and mouthed, ‘Thank you’. Ever since her mother died, she hadn’t come back to the annual tradition and he had given her the courage to do so.
Harry simply squeezed her hand and then hoisted her onto his shoulders, her arms flailing to balance herself as they both laughed. She reached her adult hand toward the giant spruce tree, standing like a piece of the sky on the streets of New York. Casey pressed her legs tight against Harry’s waist and leaned back till her hand covered the outline of the crystal star, then clutched that image and tightened her fist around it. She closed her eyes and held her hand against her lips . Make a wish , she heard her mom say.
Casey leaned down to one side, opened her fingers toward Harry’s face and blew on her palm. “Make a wish,” she said.
Harry caught the imaginary star as Casey’s father always did, pressed his fingers tight against his palm as he closed his eyes around the wish. Then he held his hand toward the tree and released the wish with his fingers.
For a moment Casey just stared into the night, the lights from the tree sparkling around her, the shouts from the crowd still echoing down the streets. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could be any age right now. A five-year-old at her first Christmas tree lighting, an eleven-year-old with her mother sick at home, or a teenager mourning her mother while pressing through the crowds to escape the merriment. She was none of those and yet all of those, here now, holding the arms of a man that had turned her pain into warm memories for a stable future.
She held onto Harry’s muscular shoulders, slid down his body and turned toward him. Amid the noise from the crowd, they simply looked at each other and knew they had found what was meant in their lives. Harry pulled her close to him and whispered in her ear. “What was your wish?”
She closed her eyes. To give you a child. I want to, just don’t know if I can do it. “I can’t tell you that.”
“You know what my wish was?”
“Don’t tell me, or it won’t come true.”
To share our love with a child, Cassandra. I want that for us, but know I can’t ask that of you right now. “Then I’ll give you this instead.” Harry pulled a tiny replica of the Swarovski star-topper out of his pocket. “Happy fourth day of Christmas, Cassandra.”
Casey stared from the treetop to the life-size angels that lined the walkway. Her mother told her that the wire-sculpted angels came to life on Christmas Eve and Casey had fashioned some for their tree at home. The year after her mother died, her father threw out any mementos that brought him pain. The Christmas decorations were one of the boxes Casey never saw again.
When she had opened her eyes on their first day of Christmas, Harry’s gift to her were replica decorations of the angels. They spent the morning picking out an evergreen and carried it back home where they circled the tree with lights, hung the celestial decorations and topped it with a star.
What confounded her was that Harry remembered everything she had told him. Each day, her Christmas gift represented some memory she had shared with him during the last few months.
Casey loved Harry’s enthusiasm for the holiday season. Her ex, Roger, would
The 24 days of Christmas
Christmas…is not an external event at all, but a piece of one’s home that one carries in one’s heart.
Freya Stark
Make a Wish
Casey clapped her gloved hands as she called out with Harry and the rest of the crowd at the Rockefeller Center: “Five, four, three, two, one!” In an instant the 30,000 lights lit up the enormous evergreen and Casey was back in her childhood, her father lifting her onto his shoulders, her mother supporting her as she reached out her chubby fingers to touch the star.
She continued to clap among the shouts from the crowd and joined in the singing of Joy to the World . Tears pricked her eyes and she turned toward Harry and mouthed, ‘Thank you’. Ever since her mother died, she hadn’t come back to the annual tradition and he had given her the courage to do so.
Harry simply squeezed her hand and then hoisted her onto his shoulders, her arms flailing to balance herself as they both laughed. She reached her adult hand toward the giant spruce tree, standing like a piece of the sky on the streets of New York. Casey pressed her legs tight against Harry’s waist and leaned back till her hand covered the outline of the crystal star, then clutched that image and tightened her fist around it. She closed her eyes and held her hand against her lips . Make a wish , she heard her mom say.
Casey leaned down to one side, opened her fingers toward Harry’s face and blew on her palm. “Make a wish,” she said.
Harry caught the imaginary star as Casey’s father always did, pressed his fingers tight against his palm as he closed his eyes around the wish. Then he held his hand toward the tree and released the wish with his fingers.
For a moment Casey just stared into the night, the lights from the tree sparkling around her, the shouts from the crowd still echoing down the streets. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could be any age right now. A five-year-old at her first Christmas tree lighting, an eleven-year-old with her mother sick at home, or a teenager mourning her mother while pressing through the crowds to escape the merriment. She was none of those and yet all of those, here now, holding the arms of a man that had turned her pain into warm memories for a stable future.
She held onto Harry’s muscular shoulders, slid down his body and turned toward him. Amid the noise from the crowd, they simply looked at each other and knew they had found what was meant in their lives. Harry pulled her close to him and whispered in her ear. “What was your wish?”
She closed her eyes. To give you a child. I want to, just don’t know if I can do it. “I can’t tell you that.”
“You know what my wish was?”
“Don’t tell me, or it won’t come true.”
To share our love with a child, Cassandra. I want that for us, but know I can’t ask that of you right now. “Then I’ll give you this instead.” Harry pulled a tiny replica of the Swarovski star-topper out of his pocket. “Happy fourth day of Christmas, Cassandra.”
Casey stared from the treetop to the life-size angels that lined the walkway. Her mother told her that the wire-sculpted angels came to life on Christmas Eve and Casey had fashioned some for their tree at home. The year after her mother died, her father threw out any mementos that brought him pain. The Christmas decorations were one of the boxes Casey never saw again.
When she had opened her eyes on their first day of Christmas, Harry’s gift to her were replica decorations of the angels. They spent the morning picking out an evergreen and carried it back home where they circled the tree with lights, hung the celestial decorations and topped it with a star.
What confounded her was that Harry remembered everything she had told him. Each day, her Christmas gift represented some memory she had shared with him during the last few months.
Casey loved Harry’s enthusiasm for the holiday season. Her ex, Roger, would
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