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Patrick gripped the steering wheel tightly as they inched along the crowded parking lot. Pedestrians walked in all directions, coming and going to the mall, too busy with their packages to pay attention to the cars.
Mariah Carey's voice faded away as the radio station led into a commercial break.
"I love that song," Rachel said, talking over the commercial announcer's voice.
Patrick made a sound of acknowledgement, busy scanning for an open parking spot. The loud commercial filled the air with messaging of how a diamond would make her Christmas perfect.
Patrick quickly smashed the off button with the palm of his hand, plunging the car into silence.
Rachel gave him a concerned look, asking, "Are you okay?"
"Sorry, it's just those damn Spence commercials are so annoying!" Patrick huffed. "We can turn it back on in a few minutes and listen to music again. We probably still won't have a parking spot by then!" he added, exasperated.
Patrick finally found a parking spot on the outer edge of the lot. He kept his hand on Rachel's back on their way to the mall doors, keeping an eye out for cars backing up.
Although they had left their shopping to the weekend before Christmas, Rachel was still very organized and had a list ordered by store. The Bay for both their moms, Game Stop and MAC for their cousins, The Body Shop for Patrick's aunts, Indigo for Rachel's sister. The list kept going.
As they passed the food court, Patrick begged Rachel for a break. Rachel was easily talked into a strawberry banana smoothie while Patrick stood in the nearest coffee shop line, patiently waiting his turn.
Patrick sat down on the vinyl bench, one hand clutching his hot tea, the other trying to keep their shopping bags from falling over. He knew there were more items on their list, but he really didn't have the motivation to keep shopping. Only knowing that if he stopped, he'd have to come back out after work one night this week kept him going.
Rachel kept chattering, her words only partially registering with him. He was so tired, more tired than an outing to a busy mall should account for. Why was he always so tired?
Rachel's story about an old college friend finally sank in. How the two of them were going to the friend's wedding in February; how she had gotten engaged over Christmas last year. It made him think about the well meaning relatives on both sides that would ask them if they were getting married yet at every Christmas gathering. How “wasn't it their turn yet”, “time he made an honest woman out of Rachel”, how “they weren't getting any younger”.
He hated it.
The fluorescent lights behind the black letters of the Peoples Jewellers store felt like they were burning his eyes. And the damn Spence ad was replaying in his head.
Maybe it was really time? They'd been together for half their life, on and off. They both had stable jobs, a nice apartment. Wouldn't it be the next logical step in their lives? Rachel could show off her ring over Christmas, visiting their families and friends, fielding their questions with the flash of a diamond.
He told himself that the roiling feeling in his stomach was excitement, not nerves.
Patrick reached over and gently took Rachel's hand with both of his. She trailed off, looking at their joined hands. Had this become unusual, him holding her hand in public?
“Rachel.” He cleared his throat, nervously trying to speak.
“Rachel,” he said again. “You are the most important person in my life. We've been together for so long and I want to be together for the rest of our lives. I don't have a ring yet, but will you marry me?”
Rachel's brows drew together, confused by the sudden proposal. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, yes,” he said more confidently, suddenly feeling the need to convince her. “I want us to go pick out a ring right now.” He nodded towards the jewelry store, his hands still holding hers.
Her face cleared and she beamed, throwing her arms around him and calling his name. “Yes!” she squealed into his ear, her excitement taking over. The joy she so obviously felt made him smile at her. He loved making Rachel happy.
“Let's go pick out a ring, Rachel. Whatever you want. I want you to be able to show it off on Christmas Eve.” He tugged her up, grabbed all their bags, and led her over to the jewelry store, ignoring the small tight knot in his stomach.
Rachel was happy. This Christmas would be her best one yet. That's all that mattered.
****
Patrick put the broom away in the storage closet, finally finished cleaning after closing up. He had been surprised by how many customers they had had on Christmas Eve afternoon, although most had come in for last minute wine and appetizers. They would have to put in an extra order of cheese from Heather for New Year's Eve.
He felt a little bit torn about staying in Schitt's Creek for Christmas. He had been honest with his parents - he really hadn't wanted to drive home today just to spend Christmas Day with them and turn around. He would have felt guilty about leaving David alone with the store for both Christmas Eve and their Boxing Day sale on December 26. He also didn't want to face the inevitable questions about if he was seeing anyone and why didn't he move closer to home. He knew he had to tell his parents about David, about being gay. Just not when his entire extended family was over for turkey and presents.
The store bell jingled twice as the door opened and closed. Patrick heard David and Stevie arguing about… decorations?
“What's going on?” he asked, as he came out of the store room.
David turned, visibly relieved to see Patrick. “Oh good, you're still here. Dad had a breakdown over the Christmas party and we've been directed to fix the decorations immediately.”
David walked over to Patrick and rubbed his hands over Patrick's broad shoulders, trying to sooth his distress. “Can you get the ladder and start taking down all the garland and the white Christmas lights? We can use our store decorations even though I wasn't planning on taking them down until New Year's Day.”
“We can also take a few boxes of decorations that haven't sold, David. We can cover them out of the espresso machine fund.”
David gasped quietly.
“Don't worry, David. I'll use the marked down Boxing Day price.” Patrick held in the wide smile he could feel trying to take over his face, giving his mouth a slight upside down slant. He could see Stevie visibly struggling to keep quiet, as she started to undo the garland around the door. She must not want to push David over the edge, knowing how much this Christmas party meant to Mr. Rose.
The three of them worked quickly to take down the decorations and pack Stevie’s car up with the boxes.
Patrick froze in shock as he entered the Roses’ motel room. A small bedraggled Christmas tree was the first thing he noticed, with at least half of the mostly green branches lying on the old carpet beneath the tree.
“Uhhhh, David…..” he trailed off. “I don't think our decorations can fix that.”
David blew out a long puff of air and started waving his arms around. “I don't know! Maybe we can use string or tape or glue or, or, or just turn it into a fresh greenery display!”
“We could maybe try glue?” Stevie spoke up. “I have a lot of super glue in the motel tool box for fixing things that I can't use duct tape on.”
David closed his eyes and looked at the ceiling. “Okay. At this point, whatever. Let's see what we can do.”
It was the strangest Christmas Eve evening Patrick could remember, getting slightly high off super glue in the poorly ventilated motel room, and listening to Stevie tease David over his decorating wish list. He honestly couldn't remember a happier Christmas Eve.
Patrick stood in front of the Franken-tree, his arm across David's shoulders. The Jazzagals’ voices filled the room. Patrick rubbed his thumb over the back of David's hand, watching how the light glinted off David's glass and his two silver rings. Patrick loved those rings - how they looked on David's fingers, how they felt when Patrick held David's hand, the smooth drag of them when David touched Patrick's body. David might only have two rings on right now, but Patrick loved when he wore all four of his favourite rings.
Suddenly, Patrick knew. There was a goldsmith outside Elmbridge that David had recently signed on as a vendor. She did beautiful work. If Patrick gave her pictures, maybe some tracings, maybe she could recreate David's rings. In gold.
Four golden rings.
Patrick lifted David's hand and kissed it. This was the man he was going to marry. Joy threatened to bubble out of him as the feeling of absolute certainty settled over him. This wasn't the time or place. David deserved the perfect proposal, one that required planning. A picnic maybe, on a warm spring day, when the trees were green and the flowers were in bloom. A picnic, with expensive cheese and real champagne. Patrick could tell David how he changed Patrick's life, how Patrick never felt more like himself than when he was with David.
This was maybe the best Christmas Patrick had ever had. And he knew next Christmas would be even better.