Christmas Night

Emily is sitting cross legged on my bed, one of my copies of A Christmas Carol open in her lap. She's holding a mug of peppermint tea, and her lips move slightly as she reads. The Christmas lights are reflected in her tortoise shell glasses, and a red velvet ribbon holds her long brown hair in a pony tail. She's wearing red flannel pajamas with feet that should look ridiculous, but on her they're adorable.

Our Christmas dinner was spinach pie and falafel with harira soup, and a fresh imported panettone for dessert. We actually ate at the table tonight, instead of sitting on the bed with trays. I cleaned the table off when I put up the Christmas decorations, Emily laughed that it was possibly the first time she'd seen the table top. Casey sat at her feet all through dinner, waiting to lick the soup bowls. He really likes harira a lot.

After dinner we snuggled under my striped quilt and watched The Polar Express. I love the way she squeezes my hand when she gets excited. During the race toward Flattop Tunnel she threw her arms around my neck and just about jumped into my lap while yelling at the boy on the screen to "Get down! Get down!" When she caught herself she turned beet red, covered her face with the quilt to stifle her laughing, then looked up at me sheepishly and said, "God Jim, I'm such a dork! How can you possibly love me?" Em, it's the easiest thing I've done in longer than I can remember....

In a little while we'll take Casey for his last walk of the evening, then we'll fall asleep together under the quilt, her head resting on my shoulder, her hand resting on my heart. It's been a wonderful Christmas.

Last Saturday Night At United Palace

Slow dancing with you on the wildflower carpet while the lightning blazed and the thunder shook the balcony over our heads, turning graceful and slow down the violet hillside into the noise and the sweat, I'll never forget that. The way you danced on tiptoes, arms around my neck, looking up at me with that faerie smile shining through your black lipstick, spinning so light and so free.
And the spotlight glowed on your black satin dress as we danced all alone with the crowd all around us, I was lost in the elf light, lost in the blood tide. And nothing mattered but the warmth of your breath, the black rose tattoo that you had on your cheek. And the only thing I heard over the music were the words that you whispered when you pulled me so close.
When you said, "This is here, this now, this is all. This is all I could wish for, this is all I could need. How did you know how to make me so happy? How do I deserve this? I must be a good girl!" I whispered back, "It's me who's the lucky one. It's me who'll thank God tonight when you've gone to sleep."
And later on, when the night had gone quiet, when the curtain had fallen and the crowd had gone home, I held your hand through the snow showers, walking on air a few inches over Broadway. And it sucked when I had to leave you at Penn Station, put you on the last train to take you away.
And I lay in my bed, replaying the night, reliving the music, reliving your touch. Soon enough darlin', see you real soon.