Author's Note: Warning, there will be some (non-sexual) violence in this chapter. Also, I'm not an expert on self defense. If any of the methods my characters use aren't realistic, then I apologize.
***
Nostalgia. So much nostalgia.
A tree made of plastic, decorated with so many different things. String lights with rainbow colors. Smooth orb ornaments of several solid colors, mostly red, purple, white, and gold. Squishy, sponge-like ornaments shaped like random food items. Strings of false popcorn, because while Pearl loved threading popcorn and hanging it up on the tree, she HATED the idea of either de-tangling it from the tree to eat or leaving it to attract pests.
Occasional hard ornaments shaped like Christmas/Winter symbols and figures, Santa Claus, snowmen, reindeer, snow-globes, and wrapped present boxes. There were even ornaments of random fantasy creatures, elegant fairies with butterfly-like wings, elves in old Medieval inspired clothes, centaurs, goblins, Western style dragons, dwarves, and even snake people. Darren and Pearl had a short disagreement over what the term for them was. Lamia or naga? They could only agree to disagree.
On top of the heavily adorned monument to Christmas, there was a ridiculous topper that look like an overly detailed Santa. If Pearl had been the one to put it there, she'd have needed a ladder. Darren had no problem with it.
Under the tree, or to be more accurate, around the tree, there was a pile of wrapped gifts. Darren had been very careful with hiding them all. He'd even ordered Pearl to hide in one of the spare rooms with her laptop to keep her busy while he either stored or wrapped the gifts. Pearl didn't mind. She actually thought it was adorable. She had her own present for him, only one, because that's all he let her get for him. It wasn't hard to keep it a secret because he was just as willing to play the game as she was.
Darren said the dogs should get their presents first, not that he thought the dogs particularly cared. It was still a fun process, getting the dog in question's attention and showing them the present, opening it up for him, then giving it to them. Each good boy received matching chew toys of varying types, special rubber toys with small holes for hard treats to fall out of, cloth and rope toys to tug on, matching new pet beds, and matching food and water bowls. They seemed more excited about the toys than anything else.
The living room was already a loud, crinkling mess of wrapping paper and sticky bows. Yet there was still a good mass of boxes to go through. Darren sat down near the tree, his long legs open and bent, and he put Pearl between them. She felt like the most pampered little loved one, and she soaked it all up. Package after package was carefully opened by her happy little hands. Wanting to save the wrapping paper for next year, she tried to minimize the damage.
A pack of plain but excellent quality socks. A tiny box of Play-Doh. Two thick coloring books full of princesses and a box of two hundred crayons (Darren had proudly said he'd gotten that on sale). A new de-tangling brush. A pack of panties. A bag of elastic hair bands. These were the sorts of things Pearl cooed at and said thank you over at this point. She was very pleased.
When there were four presents left, three for Pearl and one for Darren, it was time to see some nicer things. Darren was particularly excited about them. He tickled Pearl's ribs and kissed her head as he handed the first box to her. It wasn't very big. The box in the wrapping paper looked like some random old thing Darren had found from the garage. However, something very nice was inside. A handgun and a pack of bullets buried in packing peanuts.
"Technically, it's my gun," Darren explained as he showed her how to load it, "but I'll teach you how to shoot, and after you got your conceal carry permit I'll go through the process of giving the gun to you. There's a special purchase permit you have to get, gift or no gift. I can't just give it to you without some paperwork involved."
He showed her how to unload it. "I'll give you my three most important rules right now. One," he was putting the bullets back in their case, "never leave this thing out for anyone else to touch. A little kid, a druggie, a monster, a pet, doesn't matter. Don't be careless with it. Two," he put the gun back down under the peanuts, the same with the bullets in their little pack, "Never point this gun at anybody unless you want to shoot that person."
He closed the cardboard box holding everything together. Then he kissed her cheek. "Three, never, ever put your finger anywhere near the trigger unless you've made the decision to shoot."
"I got it." Smiling, Pearl watched him set the box aside. "It's a wonderful present, really. Makes me feel patriotic." She adjusted her back on his torso. "Everybody could use a little 'Murica every now and then."
The second package didn't have an old box from the garage. Pearl knew what it was very quickly. It was a handheld console. "Awwwwww!! This thing's expensive!!"
"So what? I'm good at saving money." He rubbed the top of her head with his right hand. "And we don't have any kids, so I can afford to get you nice things."
Pearl opened the box and looked at the parts inside. It was essentially a kit. Then she tested the buttons on the gamepads. Yep. They were satisfying. She snugly closed the box and put it aside to make room for the third gift.
The box was thin and rectangle shaped, kept in brilliant red paper with a green, square bundle of ribbon. Under the paper, the box was shown to be black, and apparently made for storing jewelry.
Trying not to wince, Pearl thought to herself, "Please don't be diamonds. Please don't be diamonds! Please don't tell me he wasted money on diamonds, one of the more commonly found, blatantly over priced gemstones on the planet!"
The lid was slowly tilted up.
Classic gold. A rope chain, not a delicate one but certainly not very big. The texture alone was rich and almost ridiculously shiny under all the Christmas lights. That wasn't the only feature. There was a little pendant. A round, white pearl that seemed to have a width similar to the nail on her fourth finger.
Pearl hoped it wasn't more expensive than the damn console, but regardless she squealed, twisted around, and hugged him. A storm of little kisses rained on his face as he laughed. Then she let him put the jewelry around her neck. She really, truly was spoiled rotten. She knew she'd never forget to be grateful. Mama always told her that when someone treated you well, you have to reciprocate.
Once she was finished giving Darren her burst of physical affection, Pearl grabbed the present she got for him and shuffled out of his lap.
Facing him, kneeling, she handed the box to him. He smiled and opened it all up. In the end, he was pulling up a huge, black, sturdy winter coat with a hood. She clapped her hands at his mildly confused smile. "I know you have coats, but I wanted to get you a really, really good one." She put her hands on her thighs. "You run in the night most days of the week, and it's so cold. I wanted to make sure you have the best coat to keep you warm."
Darren crushed the thick coat to his torso as his head lowered for a few seconds. Pearl was worried at first, but then he looked back to her, and he had a relaxed smile.
"You really are a sweet little thing," he said.
***
Turns out that recoil is a thing. The movies tended to forget about that.
Pearl's arms and hands typically ached from all the practicing, especially since she'd started it all in the cold weather. Of course, the dogs had to be kept indoors during these times, and Darren always supervised with great care. He started out with old glass bottles and tin cans, a classic form of target practice. Then he said he wanted to take her to a shooting range.
Pearl wasn't the best shot, but at least she was eager. Plus, she got regular positive reinforcement along with the honest criticism. When she told her dad about it all, he seemed really excited. "I'm so proud of you, Little Bit," Daddy had said, "and I'm glad your man's looking out for you."
Whenever the couple was out together, Pearl remembered to stay with him. If her fingers weren't in his belt loops, her hand was in his, often with laced fingers. If none of those previous options were available, Pearl would hold onto a chunk of his shirt or coat. She even joked that she should get an adult version of those safety harnesses some parents put on their little kids. She didn't think of them as pet leashes. She thought of them as a good way to keep someone from disappearing. However, she didn't want judgmental looks.
Whenever Pearl was out alone, it was bright outside. She didn't even want to go out when it rained hard.
Darren kept his promise about the punching bag and self defense. Too bad Pearl wasn't a very hard hitter ... or even a very accurate hitter, but at least she had Darren to show her how to move her body. He told her to practice just a little bit every other day. He also taught, or tried to teach, her a few useful positions and techniques in case anyone ever tried to grab her again.
Pearl was ... clumsy as all hell, but Darren stayed with her to help her practice these things. His logic was, if she could figure out how to work with a six foot something beast of a man then she could figure out how to work with lots of other people.
All that combined with the housework made Pearl very, very sore. She still managed to rub Darren's feet every once in a while, cook the meals, clean the house, and look after the dogs, but holy shit she wasn't used to all this. Sometimes Darren gave her a full body massage, and that was really nice. His big hands covered so much of her at once!
The gentle warmth of spring soon comforted Pearl's tired bones. The number thirty-one was creeping towards her, but she wasn't as concerned as other women might've been. She still had her youthful looks and a sexy man kept her comfortably safe in his house. Her insecurities nearly evaporated.
When that number finally pounced on her, they had a sort of birthday party. Nothing extravagant. The sorts of parties would one see in films were highly uncommon. There were no decorations, no DJs, no massive amount of guests. It was a dinner at the house with both their sets of parents as the guests.
