{"id":9906,"date":"2015-12-22T10:00:26","date_gmt":"2015-12-22T15:00:26","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/jennytrout.com\/?p=9906"},"modified":"2015-12-21T23:47:26","modified_gmt":"2015-12-22T04:47:26","slug":"my-favorite-christmas-moments-from-the-boss-series","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/?p=9906","title":{"rendered":"My Favorite Christmas Moments From THE BOSS Series"},"content":{"rendered":"

Last year, I wrote a Sophie and Neil Christmas story for That’s What I’m Talking About’s “Mistletoe Madness” holiday event. <\/a>I wanted to write some brand new Neil and Sophie for this year, but things got in the way. So instead of sharing new Neil and Sophie, I’m sharing old Neil and Sophie. I’ve picked a couple of my favorite Christmas scenes from their books.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Michael’s Christmas Proposal\u00a0<\/b>(from\u00a0The Girlfriend<\/em>)<\/strong><\/p>\n

After a delicious course of vegan plum pudding for dessert, we went back to the drawing room to exchange gifts and have cocktails. We were all happy and relaxed, chatting amicably when Emma, a twinkle in her eyes, said, \u201cDad, please tell me you made Sophie do the shoe thing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShoe thing?\u201d I raised an eyebrow.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere was a tradition my father\u2019s family had when he was a child, and he passed it on to us,\u201d Neil explained. \u201cYou left your shoe in the window on Christmas eve, instead of hanging up a stocking by the fireplace.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSophie, you are going to be so confused,\u201d Emma said with a laugh. \u201cThere are like twenty-seven Santas in Iceland.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh no, was I supposed to set out twenty-seven shoes, then?\u201d I teased Neil. \u201cI didn\u2019t even leave out one, the staff here pick everything up the minute you leave it unattended.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot to worry, I did it for you.\u201d He smiled his mysterious half smile and pointed to the tall windows behind the tree.<\/p>\n

Rising from the sofa, I went off in the direction he\u2019d pointed. In the corner of the low windowsill, a gorgeous nude-colored Christian Louboutin pump waited with an envelope inside.<\/p>\n

I picked up the shoe reverently. It was goddamned beautiful, shiny, and oh, such a sexy tall heel. I slipped one of my own shoes off, took the envelope out of the Loubou, and tried the shoe on immediately. It fit perfectly. I thought of Neil carefully examining my shoes while I had packed. He\u2019d gotten this before we\u2019d left New York.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s in the envelope?\u201d Emma asked, snuggling closer to Michael on the velvet upholstered settee.<\/p>\n

I unfolded the paper inside and read the note silently.<\/p>\n

My darling Sophie,<\/em><\/p>\n

The other shoe is waiting for you upstairs. Be sure to pack them when we leave for Paris for New Year\u2019s Eve.<\/em><\/p>\n

Merry Christmas, and all my love,<\/em><\/p>\n

N<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u201cWell, what does it say?\u201d Emma demanded.<\/p>\n

I raised my head, beaming, momentarily speechless. \u201cNeil is taking me to Paris for New Year\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGo Dad!\u201d Emma said, giving him a thumbs up. \u201cVery romantic.\u201d<\/p>\n

I went to Neil and leaned down to kiss him briefly. I\u2019d save the utter mauling for when we were alone. \u201cThank you. You\u2019re wonderful.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSpeaking of romantic,\u201d Michael said, nudging Emma. \u201cRemember when you said you thought Christmas-themed proposals were romantic?\u201d<\/p>\n

Neil\u2019s attention shifted sharply. I looked up, my focus drifting with everyone else\u2019s toward Emma and Michael. You could have heard a pin drop as Michael rose from the couch, then took a knee in front of her.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh my god,\u201d Valerie said softly, her hand flying up to her mouth.<\/p>\n

The expression on Neil\u2019s face echoed Valerie\u2019s sentiment, but for the opposite reason. His facial \u201cOh my god,\u201d was more like, \u201cOh my god, that bear is eating my loved one.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEmma, I am… so in love with you,\u201d Michael said, his voice breaking with emotion. \u201cAnd I know how important family is to you. So that\u2019s why I wanted them with us when we started our family together. Emma, will you marry me?\u201d<\/p>\n

My knees went weak at the adorableness. A tear rolled down Emma\u2019s cheek, and she wiped it away with her thumb as she nodded, frantically, and giggled, \u201cYes!\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Neil Meets Sophie’s Family (from\u00a0The Bride<\/em>)<\/strong><\/p>\n

I took Neil\u2019s hand. \u201cCome on. Let\u2019s go see Mom and get this over with.\u201d<\/p>\n

When we stepped into the tiny, crowded kitchen, my mom was bent over a steaming sink, having just strained some boiled potatoes. She looked fabulous, as always, in wide-legged black trousers and a fitted, leopard-print cardigan. Her blonde hair\u2014as fake as her nails and just as difficult to maintain\u2014was perfectly straightened and held back from her face with a clip.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m home!\u201d I declared as she shook the last drops out of the huge stockpot.<\/p>\n

She turned to face us, the corners of her eyes crinkling with happiness when she saw me. Then her gaze darted to Neil, and her smile did that telltale, split-second cessation of outward mobility, caused by an unpleasant shock she didn\u2019t want to admit to. I\u2019d gotten so used to it over the years. The I\u2019m-freaking-out-internally freeze.<\/p>\n

She hugged me, harder than absolutely necessary, and effused, \u201cHoney, I\u2019m so glad you made it! I was worried the airport would close down because of the storm yesterday.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt didn\u2019t.\u201d After stating the obvious, there was nowhere to go but introductions. \u201cMom, this is Neil. Neil, this is my mom, Rebecca.\u201d<\/p>\n

She put out her hand. \u201cIt\u2019s nice to meet you, Neil. Sophie has had only good things to say about you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Turning to me with raised eyebrows, she said, \u201cNot that she\u2019s said a lot.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, she mentioned that in the car on the way over.\u201d He gave her what was possibly the most charming smile I\u2019ve ever seen on him. Oh, baby. You\u2019re wasting your energy. She already hates you.<\/em><\/p>\n

My grandmother was at the stove. She looked over the shoulder of her red, bedazzled Christmas sweater. \u201cWell, don\u2019t hug me, for heaven\u2019s sake. I only haven\u2019t seen you for a year.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMerry Christmas, Grandma,\u201d I said as I went to her with open arms.<\/p>\n

I heard my mom ask, \u201cSo, Neil. What do you do?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI own two multimedia conglomerates, one in the US and England and the other based out of Reykjavik.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh. How nice for you.\u201d My mom was going to die of a heart attack on the kitchen floor.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs there a lot of money in that?\u201d my grandmother asked him, with all the tact small-town Michigan matriarchs generally displayed.<\/p>\n

Neil\u2019s eyebrows lifted, and he blinked three times, rapidly, before managing to answer, \u201cI do all right.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a wonder anybody\u2019s doing all right these days, with those damn Republicans\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMa!\u201d my mother hushed her. \u201cNobody wants to talk about politics at Christmas.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI, uh, I brought a little something to contribute to the festivities,\u201d Neil said, reaching into the shopping bag to pull out one of the bottles of 1996 Dom P\u00e9rignon.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d brought the Dom P\u00e9rignon because I\u2019d suggested he not go overboard. My mother was going to eat him alive.<\/p>\n

She took the bottle and turned it in her hands with a little nod. \u201cThis was very thoughtful of you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ve got beer, too, Neil, in the cooler outside the door. Just don\u2019t let all the heat out,\u201d my grandmother called, her head in the oven as she peeled the tinfoil off the ham.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll chill this,\u201d Mom said, taking the other bottle from Neil.<\/p>\n

Grandma deposited a heavy bowl into my hands, and I gasped, juggling it quickly so as not to slosh gravy onto my coat. \u201cTake that out to the table.\u201d<\/p>\n

I cast an apologetic glance at Neil as I moved past him, into the crowded dining room and out to the porch. As I went, I heard my grandma shoo him out of the kitchen.<\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t a long journey with the bowl, but by the time I got back to Neil, he\u2019d been cornered by my great-uncle Doug, who had an open beer in his hand despite the fact it was eleven a.m. on Christmas morning.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou heard a dem gingerbread Oreos?\u201d he asked Neil, taking a swig from his bottle.<\/p>\n

Neil blinked and stammered, \u201cN-no. That sounds horrible.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, they\u2019re a real ting,\u201d Doug insisted, gesturing with his beer. \u201cThey were on the Channel Six news.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, did you say noose?\u201d Neil spotted me, and his relief was visible. I should have warned him about the thick Yooper accent that ran in my family.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, Sophie!\u201d Uncle Doug put out his arm for a half-hug. He was my grandmother\u2019s youngest brother, sixty-five, and he\u2019d recently retired from his job as a DNR officer. \u201cDid ya hear about dem gingerbread Oreos?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat sounds gross.\u201d I stood beside Neil and reached up to put a hand on his shoulder. It was as hard as a blacksmith\u2019s anvil with tension. I hoped he\u2019d brought his headache pills with him.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey got \u2018em down in Marquette,\u201d Doug went on. \u201cThey don\u2019t got \u2018em at the Pat\u2019s here, but I told Debbie\u2019s sister, \u2018you better save me some of dem gingerbread Oreos.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

My aunt Debbie yelled from the living room that there was something wrong with their cell phone, and Doug excused himself. As he walked away, Neil muttered to me, \u201cI feel like I\u2019m listening to an alien language.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, you just wait until I\u2019ve<\/em> been up here a couple of days. No matter how hard I\u2019ve tried to shake it, the accent always comes back.\u201d<\/p>\n

Neil\u2019s eyes widened as he considered the implications of that statement. \u201cI think I do need one of those beers, after all.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

And thought it technically took place on New Year’s Eve,\u00a0Neil Proposes To Sophie (from\u00a0The Bride<\/em>):<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cThis is weird,\u201d I whispered, gazing up at him, searching his eyes for something I wasn\u2019t really sure was missing. \u201cThis house, this country, the language\u2026 It\u2019s a whole separate part of your life. It\u2019s like I didn\u2019t really know you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou knew me,\u201d he said, sleepy, confident. \u201cYou just didn\u2019t know me in this context.\u201d<\/p>\n

I flipped to my belly, relishing the slide of the silk between the duvet and my body. He slowly walked his fingers up my spine as I spoke. \u201cNo, seriously. I\u2019m fascinated by this change.\u201d<\/p>\n

A smile curved his mouth, then he rolled to his back and pulled me against his side, cradling my head on his shoulder. He combed through my hair with his fingers and sighed contentedly. \u201cI suppose it\u2019s because I\u2019m home. I spent a large part of my childhood here\u2014the happiest part, really. When I was in the ICU, I thought I would die. And I thought\u2026I can\u2019t die without seeing my brothers again. And I can\u2019t die before I take Sophie to meet them.\u201d<\/p>\n

A lump rose in my throat. In addition to our couple\u2019s\u2019 therapy, Neil had been seeing someone about the PTSD caused by spending weeks in isolation in the ICU, sedated and on a ventilator. He had a difficult time talking about those days, and I was worried for him now. \u201cWe don\u2019t have to talk about that, if you don\u2019t want to.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cActually, I\u2019m not that bothered; it\u2019s getting easier. And this isn\u2019t denial. I feel relieved to be telling you all this. I want you to share every part of my life with me. And I want to share every part of your life with you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe do sha\u2014\u201d I began, and his hand gently covered my mouth.<\/p>\n

\u201cSophie,\u201d he said softly. \u201cDo shut up. I\u2019m trying to propose.\u201d<\/p>\n

Propose? <\/em>My head went light and my chest got heavy. My eyes flared hot and watery, and my skin tingled.<\/p>\n

It was the single best anxiety attack I\u2019d ever had.<\/p>\n

He eased his arm from beneath me as he reached with his other hand for something in the nightstand drawer. I sat up, certain my face was bright red from the blood pounding into it.<\/p>\n

He leaned back on the pillows, turning a small clam-shell jewelry box like a Rubick\u2019s Cube in his nervous hands. \u201cSophie\u2026 I love you. I\u2019ve tried to think of a thousand different ways to say this poetically, but I really feel that the unadorned truth is utterly necessary right now. And if you don\u2019t want to marry me, if you think it\u2019s too old-fashioned an institution or against your principles, then that\u2019s fine. Nothing has changed. I just needed to tell you\u2026 I love you so much that I regret having memories that don\u2019t include you. I look back on my life before I met you and I see where you should have been. Some of my greatest achievements, the things I am most proud of, seem empty because you weren\u2019t there beside me. You are the other half of me. And I would be so incredibly grateful if you would marry me.\u201d<\/p>\n

I lunged forward, grasped his head between my hands and kissed him hard. And by hard, I mean, our teeth scraped together unpleasantly. But I didn\u2019t care.<\/p>\n

I gasped when our mouths parted. \u201cI love you so much.\u201d<\/p>\n

He smiled against my lips, his arms wrapping around my back. \u201cDo you want to see the ring?\u201d<\/p>\n

I nodded.<\/p>\n

He rolled me smoothly beneath him, settling between my thighs as my nightgown rode up. Braced on his elbows, he opened the box and handed it to me. Inside, a huge, cushion-cut yellow diamond flared brilliantly, surrounded by a border of smaller white diamonds, set in flawless platinum. It was absolutely gorgeous, and absolutely me.<\/p>\n

I held out my hand, and Neil slipped the ring from the box onto my fingertip, sliding it down easily over my knuckle. It was a bit loose, and I giggled.<\/p>\n

\u201cAt least it\u2019s not too small,\u201d he said with an embarrassed laugh.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll get it sized.\u201d I kissed him again, letting him pull my hand to his chest and cover it with his own palm. I looked down at our entwined fingers. \u201cYou\u2019ve had this with you the whole time?\u201d<\/p>\n

He nodded, smiling ruefully. \u201cIt was in my pocket when we went to the lake. I thought I would propose to you there, but I chickened out.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is so beautiful. Really. I love it. And so romantic. I\u2019m not as good with words as you\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSays the woman whose first book is being published in three months,\u201d he teased.<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, that was a little dumb of me. But I feel the same way. I can\u2019t imagine not waking up with you every morning. This last year with you was the best and the worst year of my life. And I want that. I want all the good parts, and all the bad parts, as long we\u2019re together while we\u2019re going through them. I have never felt so safe with anyone, or as sure about anything as I am with you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo\u2026this is a yes?\u201d he asked with an arched brow, and I realized I hadn\u2019t given him a definitive answer. \u201cI want to make sure, in case I need to take this back to the jeweler.\u201d<\/p>\n

I laughed and raised my head up to kiss him. \u201cYes. Absolutely.\u201d<\/p>\n

He laced his fingers with mine as he pushed my hands back on the pillows. \u201cI like the sound of that. \u2018Yes.\u2019 I wonder how many times I can make you say that word tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n

With a lift of my hips, I rubbed myself shamelessly against him. \u201cDo you mean \u2018yes, Sir,\u2019 or just \u2018yes?\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll take either.\u201d His grip tightened on my hands, and he sank his teeth into my neck.<\/p>\n

Merry Christmas to all of you who are celebrating, Merry Day The Roads Are Blessedly Clear to those who aren’t celebrating but do have driving to do, and so much love to all my Trout Nation buddies for whom the holidays aren’t the very best of times.<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Last year, I wrote a Sophie and Neil Christmas story for That’s What I’m Talking About’s “Mistletoe Madness” holiday event. I wanted to write some<\/p>\n

Read moreMy Favorite Christmas Moments From THE BOSS Series<\/span><\/a><\/div>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9906"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=9906"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9906\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":9908,"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9906\/revisions\/9908"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=9906"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=9906"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=9906"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}