~~~~~*~~~~~

"Babe, I'm tired…"

"We've gotta keep going. I'm almost done," Samantha said, glancing up from her complicated list of notes and scribbled out names. To anyone else it probably looked like chaos, but it made perfect sense to her. If only she could focus for a minute so she could remember exactly what she needed to buy next. Was it slipper socks for her sister, or one of those chocolate reindeers wrapped in gold foil for her niece?

Sam glanced down at the piles of bags she'd evenly distributed between herself and Lance to see if any of the plastic carriers would jog her memory. Had she already bought socks, or had that been the wool scarf for her auntie? She identified several names of stores they’d visited but none of them jogged her memory. They’d been shopping for nearly two hours, and her mind was already turning to mush.

She hoped that Lance would remember where they'd parked the car because by the time they'd finished shopping and headed back to the parking lot she'd be pretty useless.

Maybe we should stop so I can rummage through the bags to make sure, Sam wondered.  But then again, the moment I suggest stopping for any period, short or long, Lance will insist that we just go home. She could tell she was losing him, fast.

"But my legs are aching," Lance whined, dragging his feet to win her sympathy.

"Seriously, we're almost there," Sam said.

"And my feet feel like lead..."

"May I remind you that this was your idea?" she huffed, suddenly remembering she'd put her purse down on the counter when she'd bought the last present; a Lego Superman key-chain for Joey. Had she picked it up again? Had she remembered to put it back into the pocket of her fleecy coat? She shook her arms to push the handles of the carrier bags she was holding higher up her sleeves–the handles of which were slowly cutting off her blood circulation–so she could do the universal 'pat down' of her coat pockets.

To her relief, it didn't take long for her to find a familiar lump in her right hand pocket that was an exact match for her purse. She let out a long sigh of relief and felt her heart rate drop to a more natural rhythm. Thank God.

Sam turned to Lance and raised an eyebrow. He may well moan, but she would not let him forget whose idea shopping this close to the holidays had been. "You thought it'd be fun, remember?" She smirked at his expression. It was clear he knew she was right, but he took a few seconds to admit it.

"I may have been wrong,” he said with a grin. “So can we leave now?"

"No," Sam said, glancing back down at her list. "We have to do this. We're running out of time to get presents and get them wrapped and sent off before the holidays."

"Jeez, what's wrong with online shopping?" he teased, nudging her slightly with his elbow. "You can do it all from the comfort of your own home.” Sam rolled her eyes at him. “I'm pretty sure they gift wrap, too," he added as an afterthought, thinking he was being helpful.

"Again, I should mention that this was your idea. I suggested going online, but you said it was lazy. "

Lance cleared his throat and turned his head, deliberately avoiding her eyes. "When did we have this conversation?" he asked, taking a sudden interest in his shoes. Sam could tell by the sheepish expression that appeared on his face he knew all too well. 

"On the phone last week,” she said. “Clearly you were paying attention. Thanks for that."

"Well, things were a little crazy at that moment...”

“Hmm… I bet,” she said, imagining what he considered counted as being busy. Probably playing Xbox at Chris Kirkpatrick's house. Try being at home all day with two children under the age of five, she thought. Perhaps he needed another day at home with the children to remind him… “Regardless, here we are and we have to finish,” she said, not wanting to start an argument in the middle of the mall.

Lance let out a small huff of annoyance which caused Sam to glance sideways at him. “You could always help, you know,” she suggested. She didn’t mean it to sound as snarky as it came out, but by this point she had no energy to tailor her voice to spare his feelings. She was just as tired and fed up as he was only she was keeping her frustrations to herself. Or had been until now, at least.

“What do you mean?” Lance asked, sounding hurt, “I am helping!” He raised the piles of bags he was carrying and shook them in front of her face to prove his point.

Samantha eyed the bags and said pouted. It was true, he had been her pack mule for several hours without uttering one single complaint, and she knew how much he hated trawling the shops. He’d probably only suggested going shopping to spend some time with her, which was sweet of him. In his head he’d probably pictured them arm in arm laughing intimately with each other as they strolled in and out of festively decorated stores, munching on treats from the food court and enjoying finding gifts for their loved ones. Sam glanced around her at the noisy, bustling crowd and let out a sigh. How different the reality was, she thought sadly.

“I just have a few things left to get…” she said, her voice fading as her concentration turned to her list. “Something for your mom, something for my mom, and something for your assistant.”

“I can get those…” Lance said, gently snatching the list from her hands and holding it close to his face to peer at her scribbles. Her handwriting was pretty indecipherable, but somehow he made out what she’d written. “That’s all you have left to get?” he asked, glancing sideways at her.

Samantha nodded and watched him with a smile as he held the creased paper even closer to his face. He’d insisted on not wearing his glasses or contacts–it was a rare day when he didn’t actually have to– and she’d told him at the time it would be a mistake. He’d said it helped him to switch off from the inevitable turning of heads that seemed to follow him wherever he went, and to be fair to him, it had seemed to work. They hadn’t been stopped at all since leaving the house, which had been a welcome relief.

“You’re sure you’d be able to get them?” she asked, not feeling convinced by his optimism. He hadn’t been shopping alone in years and for good reason.

“Yeah, sure. Why not?”

“And you’re not just saying that so we can get home quicker, right?” she asked, eyeing him suspiciously. Lance’s mouth pulled up into a little smirk, which Sam caught just before he composed his expression. It was enough to make her nudge him in the ribs and let out an exasperated laugh. “Hey!” she giggled, “I’m serious. We need those presents!”

Lance glanced at her with shining eyes as the smirk returned to his face. “I can do it,” he said with confidence. “Trust me.”

“Hmmm….” Sam wasn’t so sure. The presents they still had to get were for some pretty important people in their lives. If he screwed this up it would be a total embarrassment.

“Trust me,” Lance said again, noting the hesitation in her voice. “I can totally do it.”

~~~~~*~~~~~

He'd thought that going it alone would be the better, if not the quicker, option, and so Sam  settled herself down at an empty table in the crowded café to wait it out. Off he’d gone in a rush leaving her with the piles of bags which she’d promptly stuffed under the table by her legs.

Sam picked up the menu from its wooden crate in the center of the table and smirked at the sprig of artificial holly that seemed to be there to remind her how fast Christmas was approaching. She brushed it aside with the back of her hand before flipping to the back page of the heavily laminated menu to find the list of available hot drinks.

What do I fancy? she wondered as she browsed the many options. Honey and almond hot chocolate? Not really. Gingerbread latte? Eggnog latte? Nope. Toffee nut latte? Pumpkin spice latte? She let out a little huff. It was like ordering a cup full of diabetes. How was she going to raise her daughters to have healthy body images when there were so many crazy food options around nowadays?

Sam glanced up at her fellow shoppers who seemed to all be relishing the chance to take the weight off their feet, get away from the bustling crowds and fill up on sugary sweet drinks that at any other time of the year they would probably cringe away from in contempt. What was it about the festive period that made people lose their heads?

God, she thought, catching herself for a moment. I sound like a right Scrooge. She made a mental note to curb the bitchiness and order herself something to drink, pronto. This bad mood seemed to have sprung up on her out of nowhere, and she immediately put it down to a low blood sugar level. Or anxiety over the control she’d just handed over to her husband. She really hoped that she wouldn’t live to regret it. 

Checking the time on her watch, Sam wondered how Lance was getting on. Ten minutes had gone already and yet there was no sign of him making his way back to her through the crowd. She wondered whether that meant he'd been cornered by a bunch of fans and was in the process of being mobbed. She sucked in a deep breath. Let’s hope not.

She turned her attention back to the menu and resumed mulling over her choices. Finally she settled on an Ice Café Latte. She glanced over at the busy barista staff waiting on customers behind the counter and wondered whether hers was a wise choice. They probably wouldn’t appreciate her ordering something they likely wouldn’t have served since the summer, but her mind was made up. Ice, milk and coffee, that was all she really needed. No cream, no froth, no additional ‘Christmassy’ flavors to turn her beverage into a celebration of the season. Just coffee.

By the time Sam had ordered her drink and it had arrived on a small ceramic plate, accompanied by a small cookie in the shape of a Christmas tree–which she tried her best to ignore–another ten minutes had passed. She took a sip of her drink and smiled at the mental image of her husband facing the terrors of the shops for her. It was sweet of him to have volunteered, but she bet he was already regretting it.

There was good reason why she’d left the gifts for their mothers until last; they were practically impossible to shop for. Both sets of parents were, in fact. When approached about ideas for gifts they usually replied with the same old line, “I don’t need anything, darling. Save your money. Don’t worry about getting me anything,” which was the most exasperating thing to hear when you’d just asked someone for present ideas. There was no way they could buy gifts for the whole family and leave out the parents, especially when they’d done so much for them both over the years.

Samantha didn’t understand why Lance had been so certain he'd succeed. He’d rushed off with such enthusiasm and confidence she’d gone along with it. Who knows, she thought, maybe he has some amazing gift ideas up his sleeve?

Stranger things had happened, it was true.

~~~~~*~~~~~

Lance returned thirty minutes later with an armful of bags and a smug grin plastered across his face. Samantha watched him approach the café and scan the occupied tables for signs of her before making his way directly over.

He held her gaze the entire time, his cheeks revealing the famous dimples she loved so much. She chuckled to herself at the smug grin that he couldn’t resist flashing her. It was clear, even from a distance, he was feeling very proud of himself. She hoped that he had good reason to be.

“What’s with the cap?” she asked as he neared the table. She reached up to pull the Miami Heat cap off his dirty blonde hair and chuckled. Eyeing the team logo, she raised a questioning eyebrow at him as her lips pulled up into a grin. He didn't support Miami Heat.

“I kept getting stopped,” he explained with a careless shrug, making light of the situation just like he always did. “It was the only obvious solution at the time, and they were the only team they had left. It seems lots of people are getting caps as gifts this year.”

“Hopefully not our mothers,” Samantha quipped as she searched his eyes for an indication that she might be close to the mark. She sneakily leant forward and tried to peep inside the nearest carrier bag.

“Hey!” Lance objected as he swung his armfuls of bags away from her and put a playful frown on his face. “No peeping!”

“What?” Sam giggled as she once again reached for the bags but was batted away by his hand. “I can’t know what you’ve bought?”

“Nope,” Lance said as he dropped into the spare seat opposite her. He let out a contented sigh and closed his eyes, letting his head fall far back on his shoulders. Sam smiled at him fondly, enjoying the intimacy of the moment. No matter how long they’d been together, how rocky their marriage was occasionally and how hard they tried to keep their relationship fresh–even with young children–he still took her breath away.

She loved him as much today as the day they’d married.

“I can’t even take a little peep?” she asked, sitting forward in her chair and resting her chin on her palm. She stuck her bottom lip out a little and peered at him through her lashes. Lance kept one eye closed but opened the other a crack to peer at her. He smiled at her expression and promptly closed it again.

“Nope.”

“But it’s Christmas…” she sulked, using her most pathetic, hopefully endearing voice to wear him down. She knew that ninety-nine percent of the time this tactic didn’t work, but she thought she’d try anyway. What did she have to lose?

“Exactly,” Lance chuckled opening both eyes and grinning at her. He folded his arms behind his head and slouched down into the chair. His eyes reflected not only the colors of the festive lights that were hanging along the beams in the ceiling, but the love he had in his heart for her, which Samantha could see as plain as day. “And just like all the other good little girls you'll have to wait until Christmas day,” he teased, using her attempt to manipulate him with her little girl voice against her. “Now can we please go home?”

~~~~~*~~~~~