Title: Traditions Start Somewhere
Rating: Teen (mild cursing)
Warning: Touches on holiday depression associated with being separated from family
Characters/Pairing: Jake McKenzie x Bailey/F!MC
Summary: Thinking about his family and the traditions they uphold every year has Jake feeling a bit down in the dumps but a suggestion from his wife has him looking forward, instead of behind.
There were only a handful of times throughout the year that Jake McKenzie allowed himself to think about and miss his family. The Christmas season was one of those times. He’d be okay, lounging in his hammock with a beer dangling between his fingers, sun glasses perched on his nose to hide last nights hang over, and it would hit him. Christmas was less than a week away and he was spending it alone on a beach while his family carried on with the traditions of a Christmas Eve bonfire near the river, his gran’s seafood gumbo boiling in a pot over an open fire out back, and his sister bitching about having to make the oyster stuffing when everyone knew cousin Lianna was better at it. His mother would be cracking the pecans for her famous pecan pie, while his uncle Lou boasted about the time he’d wrestled a 300 pound alligator and lived to tell the tale. If Jake were there he would correct the old coot, reminding him that the gator had been nothing more than a thirty pound baby.
“You’re looking way too serious right now.”
A pair of slender arms wound around his neck, reminding him that he wasn’t quite so alone this Christmas. His Princess was with him and while he adored Bailey, she didn’t have a clue about Christmas or what it meant to spend it away from family. “You’re thinking about your family.” The statement was a soft whisper against his neck, and a reality check for how well his wife knew him.
“Yeah,” Jake admitted with a sigh before hooking his arm around Bailey’s slender waist and pulling her into the hammock with him. She curled into his side, resting her head just beneath his chin. “It’s Christmas Eve.”
“And you’re thinking about all the things they’re doing, that you used to do with them, and wishing you were there, instead of here.”
Damn it, she really did know him a little too well. Since it was true, and they both knew it, there was no point in denying anything. “Right about now they’re probably getting ready for the bon fire.”
“Bon fire?” Bailey raised her eyes, her bright blue eyes narrowing in confusion. “I thought Christmas Eve was about going to mass or eating some fancy dinner or watching really cheesy holiday movies or…if you’re Quinn…handing out toys to kids who are sick and stuck in the hospital.” A smug look spread across her pretty face when she seen his surprise. “Just because I’m new to this Christmas game doesn’t mean I’m clueless.” She started tracing lazy designs across his bare chest with the tip of her index finger. “A Christmas Eve bonfire…I don’t think anyone else has brought that up.”
“Louisiana tradition,” Jake splayed his hand across her lower back, pressing her body closer to his. “Been going on for years. Couple hundred at least. The fires are supposed to guide Saint Nicholas.” There was probably more to the tradition’s lore but for the life of him, Jake couldn’t remember any of it. His thoughts were too wrapped up in what he was missing out on. His gran would have known, he thought sadly. His gran would have been able to tell Bailey the whole story, completely with any juicy gossip that might have been attached, and afterward she would have put Bailey to work peeling the shells off the shrimp.
“Jake?” Cocking a brow, Jake let out a low hum, trailing his fingers up her spine. “Traditions are important this time of year aren’t they?”
A lifetime of Christmas bonfires, seafood gumbo, and Uncle Lou’s bullshit stories flashed before his eyes. Bailey would have fit right in, he mused, brushing her corn silk colored hair behind one ear. He could picture her trading stories with Uncle Lou, one upping his gator tale with her saber tooth encounter. Most likely Rebecca would try to get their mother to teach Bailey how to make the oyster stuffing so she wouldn’t have to and Bailey being Bailey would screw it up somehow, leading to cousin Lianna taking it back over. “Yeah,” he murmured, “traditions are important…especially this time of year.”
“Important enough that maybe we should have some of our own?”
It was a simple question that had an easy answer, yet Jake’s mouth suddenly felt like it was filled with cotton. He cleared his throat, licked his lips a few times, and finally scowled when the dryness remained. “Yeah,” he managed to croak. “Just peachy.”
“You alright there, Top Gun?” Bailey struggled to sit up, the sudden movement violently rocking the hammock. A string of curses escaped Jake’s mouth, combining with Bailey’s laughter as the hammock tipped, dumping them out into the sand. “Sorry,” she giggled, flipping her long, light blonde hair out of her face. Her brilliant blue eyes searched his face, her smile faltering a bit. “Jake,” she reached out, gently cupping his cheek in one hand, “we should start our own traditions.” Her fingers brushed across his cheek bone before tucking his sun kissed light brown hair behind his ear. “We could take some of your old ones,” she tipped her head, her smile softening, “like the bonfire…that sounds fun…and mix it with stuff we come up with one our own like…” she glanced around, chewing her lower lip before grinning, “like building a sandman!”
Both of Jake’s brows shot up. “A sandman?”
Bailey nodded, the excitement building in her blue eyes. “Yeah…its like a snowman only its built out of sand…a sand man.” Her slender body shifted restlessly, her anticipation stamped clearly across her features. “We could use sunglasses for his eyes and maybe shells for his mouth…I don’t know…I’ve just always wanted to build a snowman and since we don’t have any snow…” She shrugged.
A slow, easy grin stretched across Jake’s mouth. Maybe she was on to something. Just because he couldn’t be with his family or participate in their traditions didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy Christmas with Bailey. Reaching out, he pulled her onto his lap, nuzzling her neck with his nose. “Bonfires, sandmen, and you…sounds like my kind of Christmas.”