Aqua - Christmas in New York City (Aqua Romance Travel Series) by Amanda S. Jones Page B
Authors: Amanda S. Jones
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not why I want a child.”
Casey nodded and looked down at their feet, circling the rink in sync. Why had he raised the topic of children at the Christmas tree lighting that she had looked so forward to? They had spent the entire afternoon in front of a crackling fire at their Champagne Suite in the New York Palace, talking about their wedding and the honeymoon without mention of children. Now, he couldn’t stop talking about every detail.
The more Harry mused about child rearing, the more she wanted to climb the very winding marble staircase she descended hours ago, and escape to the rooftop terrace. There, with views of St. Patrick’s Cathedral and the Manhattan skyline in front of her, her life seemed small, and that notion minimized all the issues, even her gene mutation. Remaining childless had been a bittersweet decision but now that Harry wanted children so badly, she was torn between her own needs and his.
All Casey could do was smile, but she wondered, if the deep love they shared would be lessened if she ended up not wanting a child.
Harry grabbed her arms and they spun around on the ice until they circled closer toward one another. “I still can’t believe we were both standing in front of the Rockefeller Christmas tree on December 4 th last year.”
“We were so close. What a Christmas that would have been.”
“We’re making up for it this year.” Harry winked. “The Twenty-four days of Christmas.”
Casey grinned. To commemorate this first yuletide celebration together, they were doubling everything. Rather than the Twelve Days of Christmas, they started the Twenty-four days of Christmas on December 1 st . She had walked into the living room on that day to see two dozen gifts lying in front of the fireplace.
It all started when they met on the cruise ship, the Aqua. They had shared childhood memories that included Christmas and it turned out that she and Harry had both gone to particular holiday events till they were well into their teens. Some, they even revisited every year, and would continue to, no matter how old they got. Now, they were doing them together.
They had stopped spinning now, and Harry wrapped Casey’s scarf around his neck entwining the two of them. “It’s you I want, Cassandra. You’re my Christmas gift.”
Retracing
“I CAN’T believe it’s real,” Casey held her finger to the glass and traced each line as if she was writing it herself. “All the years my mom read this to me and made it come alive.”
She shook her head again and read each line out loud. “A Christmas Carol.” Casey could hear her mom’s voice as she trailed her finger to the next line. “In prose.” She closed her eyes before she continued, seeing her mom’s face, fighting back the tears. “Being a Short Story of Christmas.” As she moved her finger to the fourth line a tear rolled down her cheek.
Harry put his arm around her and finished the sentence. “By Charles Dickens.” Casey leaned her head against his chest, wondering how many hands the original manuscript had passed through since it was written in the late 1800s. And here she was, with a man who knew her thoughts and loved bringing the memories of Christmas with her mother alive for her.
Yesterday, after lunch at the Ritz, they had left the old-world ambience and strolled to Wollman Rink, in Central Park and strapped on their skates. Harry crossed his hands in front of hers, and they glided across the ice as figure skaters would before a big leap. It was something they couldn’t do at the Rockefeller Centre with the crowds and at times Casey felt that it was just the two of them under a warm noon sun. Harry had thought of everything including a steamingthermos of hot chocolate from a cafe in the Queen’s. It only had two ingredients but Casey detected bright raspberry and citrus notes when she took a sip of the Madagascar dark chocolate blend. It had been the perfect fifth day of Christmas.
Two children
Casey nodded and looked down at their feet, circling the rink in sync. Why had he raised the topic of children at the Christmas tree lighting that she had looked so forward to? They had spent the entire afternoon in front of a crackling fire at their Champagne Suite in the New York Palace, talking about their wedding and the honeymoon without mention of children. Now, he couldn’t stop talking about every detail.
The more Harry mused about child rearing, the more she wanted to climb the very winding marble staircase she descended hours ago, and escape to the rooftop terrace. There, with views of St. Patrick’s Cathedral and the Manhattan skyline in front of her, her life seemed small, and that notion minimized all the issues, even her gene mutation. Remaining childless had been a bittersweet decision but now that Harry wanted children so badly, she was torn between her own needs and his.
All Casey could do was smile, but she wondered, if the deep love they shared would be lessened if she ended up not wanting a child.
Harry grabbed her arms and they spun around on the ice until they circled closer toward one another. “I still can’t believe we were both standing in front of the Rockefeller Christmas tree on December 4 th last year.”
“We were so close. What a Christmas that would have been.”
“We’re making up for it this year.” Harry winked. “The Twenty-four days of Christmas.”
Casey grinned. To commemorate this first yuletide celebration together, they were doubling everything. Rather than the Twelve Days of Christmas, they started the Twenty-four days of Christmas on December 1 st . She had walked into the living room on that day to see two dozen gifts lying in front of the fireplace.
It all started when they met on the cruise ship, the Aqua. They had shared childhood memories that included Christmas and it turned out that she and Harry had both gone to particular holiday events till they were well into their teens. Some, they even revisited every year, and would continue to, no matter how old they got. Now, they were doing them together.
They had stopped spinning now, and Harry wrapped Casey’s scarf around his neck entwining the two of them. “It’s you I want, Cassandra. You’re my Christmas gift.”
Retracing
“I CAN’T believe it’s real,” Casey held her finger to the glass and traced each line as if she was writing it herself. “All the years my mom read this to me and made it come alive.”
She shook her head again and read each line out loud. “A Christmas Carol.” Casey could hear her mom’s voice as she trailed her finger to the next line. “In prose.” She closed her eyes before she continued, seeing her mom’s face, fighting back the tears. “Being a Short Story of Christmas.” As she moved her finger to the fourth line a tear rolled down her cheek.
Harry put his arm around her and finished the sentence. “By Charles Dickens.” Casey leaned her head against his chest, wondering how many hands the original manuscript had passed through since it was written in the late 1800s. And here she was, with a man who knew her thoughts and loved bringing the memories of Christmas with her mother alive for her.
Yesterday, after lunch at the Ritz, they had left the old-world ambience and strolled to Wollman Rink, in Central Park and strapped on their skates. Harry crossed his hands in front of hers, and they glided across the ice as figure skaters would before a big leap. It was something they couldn’t do at the Rockefeller Centre with the crowds and at times Casey felt that it was just the two of them under a warm noon sun. Harry had thought of everything including a steamingthermos of hot chocolate from a cafe in the Queen’s. It only had two ingredients but Casey detected bright raspberry and citrus notes when she took a sip of the Madagascar dark chocolate blend. It had been the perfect fifth day of Christmas.
Two children
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