Page 9 of New Year's Day

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.