"Peter, can you get this last box? I don't know what you have in it but it’s heavy as hell." Clarissa yelled down the stairs.
"On my way, my little turtle dove." He bounded up the stairwell of his now empty apartment. Although Peter seemed unperturbed by the impending move, Clarissa was starting to have last minute doubts.
"Are you sure you want to move in together?" She asked as he bent down.
"You ask this now when I literally have the final cardboard box filled with my weights and computer monitor in my arms? You’re not getting out of this."
"Who taught you how to pack? Who puts those two items together?" Clarissa quipped, shaking her head in exasperation.
"Well we can't all be smart and beautiful, can we?" Peter gave her a peck on the cheek and disappeared down the steps.
Clarissa shook her head. There was no use trying to argue with him, he just kept sweet talking her. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to move in with Peter, in fact she loved Peter. Dating him was effortless but scary because falling for him was easy. Too easy in fact, and that worried her. What if she was setting herself up for failure? Sure he made her laugh, challenged her, adored her friends, got along with her family, never complained about her work schedule, and was incredibly romantic without being corny but what if one day she woke up and found that he was actually super annoying and she hated him. Or worse, what if he hated her and didn’t know how to tell her? And now they were moving in together, and not into the safety of her apartment or even his, but a new one they bought together. None of those levels of commitment bothered her until extremely recently.
It all felt natural until today when they started the actual moving process. It didn't help that his seven siblings and their spouses and children all turned up along with her 5 siblings plus December, Tom, Damien, Terrence and David. It was like a traveling circus except everyone was annoying and slightly pissed off.
Maybe it was too soon.
"It's not too soon."
Clarissa looked around scared and confused. Where did that voice come from, was she going crazy?
"I think you've finally snapped. I'm in the next room, you weirdo. Stop talking to yourself and come over here. I brought you a sandwich wrap. Peter said you were up here talking to yourself. Come eat." December called out.
"Oh thank goodness. I'm starving." She sat beside December on the dark wood floor of the now vacant living room.
"Care to tell me why you are having an existential crisis out loud?" December handed her a chicken and avocado wrap and she quickly tore the paper off, eager for a bite.
"I was saying that stuff out loud? How much did you hear?”
"Well you said something about a traveling circus. Anyway so you're telling me that you went apartment shopping, went through escrow and now after all of that, you are now second guessing the decision to buy a place together?"
"It sounds pretty bad when you put it like that." She muttered through a full mouth.
"Clarissa, I love you. You're the most organized, level headed person I have ever met, but you're a big dummy if you think for an instant that moving in with Peter is the wrong decision."
"It's not?"
"You're the happiest I've ever seen you. Also you could totally buy another apartment any time you want. You're rich remember?" December reminded her, wisely as she nibbled on a salad. Her fitness instructor had her own another diet, needless to say she was not impressed.
"Okay, you have a point there but what about all those horrible family holidays? We’ll be fighting every year trying to figure out which house to go to. It's going to be awful times two." Clarissa bemoaned, suddenly losing her appetite.
"Or double the presents?" December offered, quickly scooping up the rest of Clarissa’s lunch.
"Spoken like a person who doesn't have to show up for those things."
"Right? And Tom's an only child too so it’s extra fun." December grinned, wickedly.
"You're evil." Clarissa laughed, stabbing a fork into her friend’s discarded bowl of leaves and nuts.
"Seriously though, maybe you should talk to Peter about your worries over the move. It will help." December stood up, wiping the dust off her worn out jeans.
"Let's have brunch tomorrow before you leave for Vancouver."
"Sure. We don't leave until four in the afternoon. I don't know why Tom even wants to go back on that show. I love Trace and all but I still cringe when I think about that day."
"But look how happy you are now!"
"That's true. I still don't want to go though. At least Terrence will be forced to come too. Tom wants us to dress extra glamorous...so basically I'm going to be freezing to death in front of a live studio audience. Hooray."
"You could always dress demurely." Clarissa offered, half sarcastically.
"Or wear something shiny which is what glamour means to me."
"At least you’re out of your velvet phase."
––––––––
"Pete, I'm home. Where are you?" Clarissa called out, locking the front door. She dropped her coat and handbag on a pile of boxes and looked around in dismay. Every time she thought about unpacking she was seized with that strong feeling of uncertainty all over again.
"Babe, I'm in the bedroom. I have a surprise for you."
"Are you naked? Because you've used that surprise like 30 times now." Clarissa made her way to their bedroom, dodging the mess they called belongings.
"No you pervert. The four poster bed we ordered arrived so I set it up. Ta-da" Peter announced, proudly, gesturing to the giant carved mahogany sleeping structure in the middle of the room.
"Oh wow! This looks fantastic! I'm so glad you did this. I was dreading having to try to build it with you." She trailed her fingers over the smooth edges in awe.
"Really? Why?” Peter asked, taken aback by her words.
"Well I anticipated the stress of doing a DIY project with you, especially since I'm horrible at that kind of stuff."
"Hmm." He scratched his soon to be bearded face. He really needed a shave or so Clarissa kept telling him.
"Hmm? What does that mean?" She folded her arms and raised her eyebrows as he waited for his response.
"You anticipated stressing out over a potential project in general or with me specifically?" Peter responded, turning to look at her expectantly. She sighed deeply.
"Honestly, all I could think of was the tug of war for control, and the inevitable seeds of resentment being sown."
"Wow. You really over thought that." Peter retorted, dryly. “Anything else you're worried about?"
"Yes. The decorating, I've aged five years just thinking about that process."
"Because of the tug of war for control and inevitable resentment?"
"Yes."
Peter sat down on the mattress, patting the space next to him. Clarissa sat down reluctantly.
"Why didn't you just talk to me about this before?” She shrugged.
Clarissa, do you remember how my apartment looked?" Peter asked patiently.
"How could I forget? I still have flashbacks of a random mural of an ape, exposed brick and a water barrel being used as a coffee table. What were you thinking?"
"I wasn't and that's the truth. Hell, I found that orange couch on the side of the street in Brooklyn."
"Ew, we made out on that." Clarissa scowled in disgust but Peter only laughed.
"Right? I don't even remember if I had it cleaned or just accepted it just the way it was. The point is, I could have gotten lice all because I am genuinely the worst."
Clarissa nodded in complete agreement.
"Anyway what I'm trying to say is that you run a successful franchise called December Brown, and I trust you completely and I would be a fool not to, because I want nothing to do with how our place looks. You want something fixed, please call me. I love that stuff, but I do not give a damn about sheet counts." Peter explained passionately.
"Thread counts" she corrected.
"Okay, thread counts or what's the difference between a comforter and a duvet cover."
"Well actually they-" Peter cut her off with a kiss.
"I don't care. I trust you, you have amazing taste. You have nothing to worry about."
"What about when we have kids and I want to have an elaborate party to celebrate their birthdays?" She ventured, feeling bold.
"Will there be cake?"
"Duh."
"Well then I'm here when you need me. I'm actually happy that you love planning everything. It makes life so much easier for me. I come home at crazy times when I'm working a case and I don't really want the hassle."
"I agree completely. After spending the day running around bossing people around, I just want to enjoy our life together for those few hours before we pass out in front of the TV."
"I'm not against hiring a cleaning lady or a handy man if it will ease the burden of doing things."
"That's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me."
"Since we're being honest, I have a major concern myself."
"Really? Okay what?" She sat back on the bed, crossing her legs. Peter exhaled loudly.
"Family holidays."
"I'm listening"
"I was thinking if we spend Christmas Eve at mine, and Christmas day at yours, we can avoid the hassle of trying to decide."
"What?" Clarissa stared at him, open mouthed.
"Well my parent’s house is usually jam packed on Christmas day, you can't sit down and its exhausting, However on Christmas eve all the kids come over to bake cookies, and open gifts from the uncles and aunties. It's way more enjoyable that day." Peter clarified.
"Yes, I love this idea and I love you and yes!" Clarissa shrieked, climbing into his lap. She felt liberated by relief, all her worry lifted weightlessly off her shoulders by his unsuspecting words.
"Aww, I love you too. Are you sure? It won't be too much trouble?" He wrapped his arms around her waist, thrilled that she was so excited about his suggestion.
"No, Peter. No trouble at all." Clarissa whispered, flinging her arms around his neck in glee.
––––––––
"The last time these two people were on my show, I kind of sort of embarrassed the hell out of them. Apparently they're gluttons for punishment because they're back on Trace Randall Tonight, so let's give huge round of applause for America's favorite couple, Tom Elmswood and December Brown."
Tom placed his hand on the small of her back making contact with her smooth perfumed skin due to her glittery silver, backless dress, sending shivers through her spine as they walked to the stage with thunderous applause. They smiled and waved, hugging their host once they arrived on the stage set.
"December, you look delectable in that dress. Give us a twirl"
She spun around happily, eager to show the sparkly diamond like sequinned effect the knee length fitted dress gave off when she did. The entire auditorium exploded in rapturous praise.
"Absolutely beautiful! Have a seat, my love. I want to ogle your boyfriend now." Trace instructed as he helped her to the show’s familiar dark blue couch. She winced as she flashbacked to the night she first met Tom on it. No matter how hard she tried, she could not think of it as a good memory. The media didn’t remember it all that positively either.
"Tom, wow! This is how you wear a suit, people. Take notes. I'm already lost in his eyes and he just got on the stage. Now ladies and gentleman, this is a gorgeous man. I'm talking he came out of the womb hot! I know, I saw the home movie." The audience hooted and hollered at length until Tom in his tailored black suit, took his place beside her, taking her hand in his while Trace sat behind his honey oak desk.
"So you two have had a really tough last few months, haven't you? We're specifically talking about December's stalker's trial."
"Yes, it was hard but I had Tom at my side so we got through it together. He's my rock." She answered as Tom brought their joined hands to his lips, smiling.
"Aww look at all that love. Okay, so the trial is now over right? Can you tell us what was the outcome?
“I can now say without a fear of reprisals that Darren Singh has been sentenced to twenty five years in prison with no parole for three counts of attempted murder."
The audience cheered as if this was the first time they’d heard this news. It wasn’t. It was played on repeat on every news outlet, magazine and blog.
"Okay that's enough of that. Let’s talk about all of the good news happening to you two. Tom, your movie ‘The Nation’s Princess’ has been nominated for numerous awards and is currently number one at the box office." Trace proclaimed causing his audience to once again go wild.
"Yes it is, I’m so honoured to be nominated and pleased that everyone is going out see it."
"Tell us about the movie again?"
"Well it's based on a true story about a bookseller named Daniel Archer, who fell in love with Princess Josephine Von Hassperg of Austria, which sparked an Austrian social revolution when her father refused to allow their request to marry."
"It sounds very romantic."
"It is. I was lucky enough to meet them and they're a very lovely couple."
"Well, I can't wait to see it and I hope you win as many awards as possible." Trace said, sincerely.
"Thanks, Trace. I truly appreciate you saying that." Tom felt oddly touched at his words.
"He's such a gentleman. I like him. Now, Miss December Brown, I heard your latest album went platinum?" Trace inquired, eagerly
"You heard right. I have such amazing fans. It's a truly humbling experience to lay your heart out in a song and for people to understand it."
"And what did you do with the proceeds?" Trace probed, December glared at him briefly. He was fully aware she liked to keep her philanthropic efforts low key but that never stopped Trace.
"I've donated it to the Stroke Awareness foundation and the National Center for Victims of Crime organization."
"That's amazing. Honestly, you could have bought a multimillion dollar vacation home and you chose to donate it all to charity?”
“What's the point of buying frivolous things like vacation homes, when you're in a position to help as many people as you can when you have more than enough to share?” December answered, honestly.
“Wow! That is inspiring. Okay so Tom, hi. You had some news you wanted to share with us? The floor is yours." Trace gestured for Tom to begin.
“Yes actually.” Tom rose from his seat, stood in front of December, relishing her puzzled expression. In one fluid motion he got down on one knee while pulling out a black velvet box. Her hands flew to her mouth in surprise. She looked at Tom with wide shining eyes.
The crowded studio filled with shrieks and delighted applause.
“December Brown, I know the last time we sat beside each other on this couch we were two strangers who were tricked into meeting by well-intentioned friends who thought we'd be perfect for one another. They were right! You're the love of my life. I can't even remember what life was like without you in it and I really don't want to. I should have done this months ago but the moment never seemed right. I wanted it to be memorable and perfect for you. Coming back to where it all began on Trace's show to propose was the only thing that made sense to me. You are the kindest, funniest, sexiest woman I have ever known and I love you from the top of your head to your adorably tiny toes, will you please make me the happiest man in the universe by agreeing to marry me?” Tom implored staring lovingly into December’s eyes.
“Yes.” She squeaked, nodding wildly.
“Can you repeat that? I don't think they heard you in the back.” Trace chirped in.
“Shush. I love you so, so much, of course I'll marry you.” She clarified, positively glowing with elation. Flinging herself into Tom's arms she kissed him repeatedly as he tried to slip the ring on her finger without dropping it. The onlookers screamed with joy at her acceptance of the engagement proposal.
“It's absolutely beautiful.” She gasped admiring the classically designed princess cut ring with its diamond and platinum band.
“It's a family heirloom.” Tom replied happily, thinking of Maurice and Estelle.
No matter how hard he tried Estelle insisted that giving this particular ring to December would make her happier than she thought possible in nearly a decade. It was the first time she'd ever embraced him, speaking to him at length about their late son and how much it would mean to her. Tom now made an effort to send Estelle flowers at least once a week while she, Nunny, his mother and December met up for lunch every month.
"Let me be the first to congratulate you two. I can't wait to go to the wedding will it be a small or lavish?"
"Small" They said simultaneously, already envisioning Sophie, Damien's daughter as flower girl, Clarissa as maid of honor with Nunny walking December down the aisle.
"Tom, you've had more than enough time to decide, so tell us who will you ask to be your best man?" Trace asked, mischievously, knowing fully well that he was putting Tom on the spot. He was just making trouble because he enjoyed it knowing that he wasn't in the running for the position.
Trace was right, Tom had figured out who he wanted as his best man and although he and Peter were making great strides in their friendship he wasn't the person Tom had in mind. Along with Damien, Peter and Trace would be his groomsmen, if they agreed.
"Terrence Mitchell." Tom announced, a loud shout of shock was heard from backstage.
"Terrence?" Trace repeated, he would have bet money that Tom would have picked Maurice.
"Yes, he's December's stylist but we've ended up spending so much time together that we've become great friends. He's honest and hilarious and the only man I've ever loved outside of my manager, Maurice. So, Terrence, what do you think? Will you be my best man?" Tom offered with a winsome grin.
The Camera panned to a sobbing Terrence who nodded vigorously. Tom stood up, unhooked his microphone and strode over to hug him.
"Oh my God, this is the best thing I've ever seen in my life. Clarissa, I hope you're watching!" December beamed with pleasure.
The camera panned back to Trace as the show's producer pointed at his watch who still looked delighted and flabbergasted.
"Um Wow! Thanks for joining us on the best ever episode of Trace Randall Tonight. See you next time."