isn't it? [taylor swift]

chapter 59

Christmas 2021

Christmas with the Swifts was magical.

Leia sat beside Taylor at the long oak table, her hands resting lightly in her lap, the soft hum of laughter and clinking glasses rising all around her. The smell of cinnamon and roast vegetables drifted through the air, blending with pine from the oversized tree in the living room, the one Scott had insisted on getting "just a little bigger this year."

Tate lay curled contentedly beneath the table, one paw stretched over Scott Swift's foot like a claim. He was in absolute heaven, tail wagging lazily every time Scott dropped a bit of ham or turkey into his open mouth without even glancing down. Leia was fairly sure they'd struck some kind of silent, unspoken alliance.

Scott chuckled as he leaned down again, sneaking Tate another piece of stuffing. "You don't tell your moms about this, alright, buddy?"

Tate gave a soft huff of agreement, licking his chops. Leia's heart grew three sizes at that, especially when Taylor just laughed. 'Your moms'. Leia wanted to cry.

Andrea, seated across from them in a deep burgundy sweater, rolled her eyes good-naturedly and reached for the wine. Her expression was already glowing with that quiet, content energy that always lingered after everyone had finally made it to the table and the chaos had settled.

"I swear, that dog's going to leave here five pounds heavier," she said, tilting her glass toward Taylor. "You didn't tell me he was such a flirt."

Taylor, sitting relaxed at Leia's side, grinned as she passed the cranberry sauce across to her mother. 

"He's selective. Only accepts bribes from men over sixty."

Austin laughed around a mouthful of mashed potatoes. "So just Dad, then."

Leia bit back a smile, her cheeks still faintly pink from all the attention earlier - Andrea had hugged her for a full minute when they'd walked through the door, whispering "hi honey" in her ear while Scott had barely disguised his joy at seeing her again, calling her "his favourite kind of trouble" before Taylor had even taken off her coat.

It was a lot. But it was a good lot.

"You okay?" Taylor murmured now, her voice quiet enough that only Leia could hear it.

Leia nodded. "More than okay."

Her eyes flicked to the room around them—Andrea's delicate Christmas china on the table, Scott's oversized novelty napkin tucked into his collar like a bib, Kitty's faint snores drifting in from the next room, the three cats having wisely chosen to remain upstairs for the evening. The whole space shimmered with the kind of warmth that couldn't be faked. Leia hadn't known how much she'd needed this until she was in the middle of it.

She glanced down as Tate shifted slightly and placed his head on her foot, a soft sigh escaping him. Leia smiled and gently nudged him with her ankle, not to move him—just to let him know she was there too.

Across the table, Andrea refilled everyone's wine glasses with practiced ease, her eyes dancing when she got to Leia's and offered to swap it with the bottle of sparkling apple juice instead.

"We've got the good stuff for you," she said gently. "If you don't want..."

Leia blinked, then smiled, touched by the quiet attention.

"I'm good, thank you Andrea," she murmured back, again her heart feeling like it was growing in her chest. Taylor squeezed her knee under the table.

Scott raised his glass a little too high, his voice booming across the table with cheer. "To old traditions and new additions."