The night started out like so many others. Tyce and I had talked about for weeks, but it still ended up the same way. Our counselor said we needed to schedule more time together alone, without the kids, for 'us time'. Obviously he didn't know what it meant to trade stellar earnings reports with three governments and sixteen bloodthirsty shareholders. The time he spent juggling political hand grenades made our lives financially comfortable, but it felt damned lonely watching Tyce walk out of our life at a moment's notice. And yes, I was a smidgen more than bitter about it.
But this Christmas was going to be different. We'd made arrangements. The calls were going to be handled; the meetings were scheduled to be attended by Tyce's CFO. The world wasn't going to burn down around our ears for one night without him. For my part I arranged for our precious cherubs to be corrupted by the finest grandmother this side of Alpha-Centauri. They were already amped on gingerbread and hot chocolate, staying up so late it was nearly morning. I was getting regular texts that detailed the arrangements they'd made until finally I got a picture of them asleep on the couch where they'd waited for the sound of reindeer on the roof. They were also on the other side of the planet. Close enough to get to them in a few hours in an emergency, but not so close as to come home when one of them stole the other's last marshmallow.
Our plan was as simple as it was romantic. Candles were lit everywhere, the dinner was catered from the restaurant where Tyce proposed to me. We had our wedding china set for two, the music was via live-stream of the Philharmonic where we first dated and then attended religiously every Christmas until we moved out to Theta. I spent the afternoon getting ready, while he did the same. We avoided each other as if warding off a prenuptial curse. It was sweet, thinking back on it now.
I had my long dark hair styled and flocked with a gold and silver shimmer. The way it was pulled up left my neck open for Tyce to kiss while the few stray wisps of my bangs framed my face like a portrait of seduction. My makeup was a maddening application of almost nothing. I used the thinnest coat of eyeliner, a hint of mascara, a breath of blush. It was the best job I'd done in years. I had bought a strapless black dress that hugged my chest and hips, but then flowed like water down to my toes. It felt like satin on my skin, and the bra and panties were a lace pattern as smooth as the dress itself. I wore blue diamonds in my ears and around my neck; the same ones I wore at our wedding. My fingernails and toes were kept natural, but I had them buffed and they reflected the candle flames like mirrors. The thin strapped heels added a delicious three inches that made me exactly the same height as Tyce.
He chose to wear a very elegant-looking tuxedo. The jacket was an impressive cut that showed off his chest. It tapered down to his waist matched seamlessly to the waist. When I first saw him I thought he looked so relaxed. Even polished to the nines he looked like he was born to dress elegantly every day of his life. His black hair was also perfectly tousled, and every grey hair he had gleamed like tinsel. He wore the watch I'd given him on our first anniversary, too. It wouldn't pay for even a single cufflink that he had on now, but he'd still had it polished up and it was great to see it on his wrist again. I also wondered how long he'd been waiting for me by the bay windows that overlooked the dark skyline. The way the distant planets glowed behind him was breathtaking.
I saw the ghost of my reflection in the glass as I walked up to him and took the flute he offered. The orchestra started to play softly in the background, right on cue. He turned his head toward the speakers and smiled. My god how his eyes lit up with the memory of what we heard. It's funny how a sound can take you back in time faster than any machine. He took my hand and led me closer to the fireplace as we talked for a while. We went back and forth about the songs, about the food waiting for us on the table, but we weren't in any hurry. It was the most relaxing half-hour we'd had alone in a long time.
When I went to refill our glasses I brought the remote control I'd set aside back with me. I'd been working on the design of our Christmas tree for weeks, placing ornaments and lights. I spent countless hours uploading images, spacing the branches and making sure none of them would bleed into the light from the fireplace. I held out the control and his glass, then stepped back from him and let him do the honors. The wide open space in front of the fireplace suddenly erupted with light and the reflected glitter and glow from more than a thousand ornaments. The virtual tree was fifteen feet tall, and the wide base stretched from the hearth to my knees. His mouth actually hung open for a moment before he stood up and stared from tip to base before looking at me.
"Jorna, you made this?"
"Every single needle and bulb. Let me show you." I took his hand and pulled him into the center of the tree and held him close. "You see the ball near the top? It has our wedding picture engraved in the ice." I said pointing above our heads through the cluster of virtual lights and branches. "And over there is Xavier, and there's Belle over there."
He looked over the tree with the same look I'd seen in the eyes of our son, Xavier, when he looked over a new video game. His eyes moved constantly, trying to take everything in at once. "This is amazing, Jorna. I love the snowflakes, and the icicles are radiant." He turned around to the fireplace and knelt down. "They look beautiful against the fireplace, too."
I felt myself blush and covered it by taking another sip of champagne. We held hands and drifted slowly to the table. We sat with our eyes torn between the planets, the tree, and each other. It felt like the perfect Christmas Eve. We talked for a few hours, about nothing and everything in bursts as we ate. The more we spoke, the more words rushed out of us. We were rediscovering each other again. He was charming, detailed, and so damned sexy when he spoke about his dreams. He made them seem tangible, like I could reach out and take them in my hands if I wanted to. And he listened to me; he soaked up every sound I made and kept thirsting for more.
And then the most incredible thing happened: the power went out. We were plunged into darkness and silence, and then a distant 'wump' from an explosion ricocheted off of the steel canyon walls of the city beneath us. Everything rattled in the darkness. We stood and looked out over the rooftops, waiting. Then both of our phones rang. Tyce had left his in the kitchen and I toward our bedroom. The public safety message was vague, but it tried to assure me that everything was being done to restore vital systems as fast and safely as possible. The way that it didn't expressly say that it wasn't a stellar attack was a bit ominous, but when I carried my phone back to the living room windows I could see the clear starfield above us.
When the announcement started to repeat, I turned it off and sent a quick message cross-world just to check in on the holiday revelers. The minute and a half holding my phone in the dark felt eternal. The reply confirmed that whatever was happening was isolated to our own little corner of existence. I could hear Tyce in the kitchen, and it sounded like a volcano was about to erupt. There was an edge to his voice that he gets when he's becoming focused on something. Like an eagle searching for prey. If they had any sense, whoever was on the other end of the phone would have been looking for a good place to hide.