The plane hummed steadily around them, that low, constant sound that felt like being held in the palm of something enormous and calm.
Amy sat by the window, forehead resting lightly against the glass as clouds stretched endlessly beneath them,soft, white, unreal. The city they'd left behind felt far away already, reduced to lights and memory and everything she'd promised herself she'd come back to.
Jace sat beside her, sleeves rolled up, one knee angled toward hers. He was flipping through a magazine he clearly wasn't reading, eyes drifting instead to her reflection in the window.
"You've been quiet," he said gently.
Amy smiled without looking at him. "I'm just… letting it sink in."
"Virginia?"
"Christmas," she corrected. "With your family.
"So," Amy said, turning slightly in her seat to face him, one eyebrow lifting. "What's the plan for the next few weeks?"
Jace laughed, the sound low and easy. "Already being inquisitive?"
"I'm serious," she said, smiling. "I need to know what I'm walking into."
He leaned back, stretching his legs out a little as the plane hummed around them. "Okay. The official plan?"
"Yes."
"Well," he said thoughtfully, "I have a few things planned for us. Dinners out. Long walks. There's a skating rink,I want to take you there. And we'll drive around, show you the pretty parts of town. The parts that don't make it into postcards."
Amy softened. "That sounds… perfect."
"But," he continued, raising a finger, "the rest of the schedule?"
Amy laughed already. "Your mom."
"My mother," he confirmed. "She has everything planned. Everything. Christmas, New Year's, meals, visits, traditions. She's been preparing since at least October."
"I knew it," Amy said fondly. "She's one of those."
"She's the one," Jace said. "The tree is probably already up. Stockings filled. Menu finalized. I wouldn't be surprised if she's already labeled leftovers."
Amy shook her head, smiling. "That actually sounds really nice."
"It is," he said quietly. "She makes sure everyone feels included. Like they belong."
Amy rested her chin on her hand. "So… what was it like? Growing up. Christmas and New Year's in your house."
Jace's expression shifted.....softened, nostalgic. He looked down briefly, then out the window, where clouds stretched endlessly beneath them like something out of a dream.
"It was loud," he said. "Warm. Too many people in the kitchen. My mom insisting no one touch anything while my dad pretended not to touch anything but absolutely did."
Amy smiled, imagining it.
"There was always music," Jace continued. "Old records. Jazz. Classical. Stuff my parents loved. The house smelled like cinnamon and pine. And every year, without fail, my mother made way too much food."
"As mothers do."
"She'd wake us up early on Christmas morning," he said. "Didn't matter how late we'd gone to bed. We had to come downstairs together. No opening gifts alone. That was a rule."
Amy's chest warmed at the image. "I like that."
"And New Year's…" He smiled a little. "That was quieter. Just family. Reflection. My mom always said it wasn't about the party....it was about starting the year feeling full."
She leaned her head against his shoulder, the warmth of him grounding her. For a moment, neither of them spoke.
After a beat, Amy lifted her head again, eyes narrowing thoughtfully.
"You know," she said, "the more you talk about your childhood, the more unfair it feels."
Jace glanced at her. "Unfair how?"
"You," she said, pointing at him lightly, "grew up like some kind of low-key prince."
He snorted. "That is absolutely not true."
"Oh, it is," she insisted. "Big house. Fancy dinners. A driver. Holidays that sound like they belong in a drama."
"I did not have a driver," he protested.
"You did," Amy said smugly. "You told me."
"He drove the family sometimes."
"Prince," she repeated, satisfied.
Jace laughed, shaking his head. "I wore hand-me-downs."
"Designer hand-me-downs," she countered.
"You are exaggerating."
"I am not," she said, leaning back. "Meanwhile, I grew up sharing a bathroom with three people and arguing over who finished the milk."
He bumped her knee gently. "You're jealous."
"I am deeply jealous."
He smiled at her, fond and amused. "If it makes you feel better, I would've traded half of it for a quieter house."
Amy softened. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," he said honestly. "Grass is always greener."
She studied his face for a moment, then smiled again. "Still. Prince."
He laughed, surrendering. "Fine. Former prince. Disgraced."
They passed the rest of the flight like that,quiet jokes, shared earbuds, Amy pointing out cloud shapes that absolutely did not resemble what she claimed they did. At one point, Jace reached into his bag and pulled out a pack of cookies and they shared it joking around.
The plane cut through the sky, clouds drifting below them like folded cotton. Amy leaned back in her seat, the steady rhythm of flight soothing her nerves.
"I'm really looking forward to this," she admitted. "Visiting Charlottesville again without all the chaos."
Jace reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers. "I've wanted it too."
She squeezed back, smiling.
"I hope you know," she added lightly, "that I will absolutely keep reminding you how spoiled you were."
"Please don't."
"Oh, I will."
When the plane finally descended,they stepped out into the cold air, breath visible, the world instantly slower than Manhattan had ever been.
Amy barely had time to take it all in before a man in a dark coat approached them.
"Mr.Prescott," he said respectfully. "Welcome home."
Amy froze.
Jace blinked. "Thank you."
The man took their bags with practiced ease. "The car is ready, sir."
Amy turned to Jace slowly.
"Prince," she called him smirking.
Jace groaned. "I'm not,I know how it looks, it's all my mom's doing, you know that"
As they climbed into the warm car, Amy leaned into Jace, still smiling.
"Okay," she said softly. "You win."
He kissed her temple. "Welcome to Virginia."
Outside, the road stretched ahead, quiet and glowing under winter lights.
And for the first time in a long while, Amy felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be.
...
The Prescott mansion hummed with quiet life.
In the kitchen, the scent of simmering spices and baked bread wrapped the air in comfort. Rebecca stood at the counter beside the house cook, sleeves rolled up, flour dusting her fingers as she attempted poorly to shape dough. Elizabeth hovered near the stove, apron tied neatly at her waist, tasting sauce with a wooden spoon and nodding in approval.
Then.....
Honk.
The sound cut through the house like a spark.
Rebecca froze. Her eyes widened.
"Oh my God," she squealed, already tugging off her apron. "They're here!"
Elizabeth didn't bother hiding her smile. She untied her own apron in one smooth motion, setting it aside as if she'd been waiting for this exact second.
"Well then," she said warmly, already heading toward the door. "Let's not keep them waiting."
Rebecca was halfway down the hall before Elizabeth could remind her not to run.
The front door swung open just as the car came to a stop outside. The driver stepped out first, moving briskly to open the back door but Rebecca beat him to it.
"Amy!" she exclaimed.
Amy barely had time to stand before Rebecca wrapped her in a hug, arms tight and full of excitement. Elizabeth followed immediately after Rebecca's, her embrace gentler but just as sincere.
"We've missed you," Elizabeth said, holding Amy at arm's length for a moment, eyes scanning her face like she was committing it to memory again. "You look beautiful. Are you tired? You must be."
Amy laughed softly, warmth blooming in her chest. "A little but mostly happy to be here."
"That's all that matters," Elizabeth said, pulling her into another hug.
Jace cleared his throat exaggeratedly behind them.
"I'm here too, in case no one noticed."
They all burst out laughing.
Elizabeth turned to him then, her expression softening instantly. She cupped his face for just a second longer than necessary, like mothers do when they've missed their children deeply.
"I've missed you," she said simply.
Rebecca hugged him next, teasing as she always did. "You took long enough. We were about to start Christmas without you."
"Cruel," he replied, grinning.
They moved instinctively toward the bags, but Elizabeth waved a dismissive hand.
"Oh no, leave those. The housekeeper will bring them in. You two just come inside."
The moment Amy entered the house, warmth enveloped her.....both literal and emotional. The house glowed softly, lights reflecting off polished wood and tall windows dressed in winter elegance. Somewhere deeper inside, music played faintly, and the smell of food wrapped around her like a familiar memory. The house most definitely looked better than it did the last time she was there.
Elizabeth looped her arm through Amy's as they walked.
"Now," she said brightly, "we can finally do all the fun things I promised you last time before everything went… well." She sighed lightly. "Before things went bunkers."
Amy smiled, glancing at Jace. "I've been telling him the same thing."
"Oh?" Elizabeth raised a brow.
"It's actually the only reason I followed him," Amy added playfully. "I came for the plans. He was just… included."
Jace gasped, clutching his chest. "I've been reduced to an accessory."
Rebecca laughed as she looped her arm into Jace's. "As you should be."
Elizabeth chuckled warmly. "Good. That means we'll get along just fine."
They reached the foot of the stairs, Elizabeth finally releasing Amy's arm.
"Your room is ready, Go," she said gently. "Freshen up. Food will be ready soon, and I won't hear excuses about jet lag."
Amy nodded, smiling. "Thank you. For everything." Elizabeth squeezed her hand once more. "Welcome home, dear."
As Amy followed Jace upstairs, laughter still echoing behind them, the house felt exactly as it should,alive, waiting, and full.
And this time, nothing felt rushed.
Nothing felt fragile.
Just warm.
.....
Dinner unfolded slowly, the way good evenings always did.
Plates were passed around, serving spoons clinking softly against china as Elizabeth insisted everyone take more than they thought they wanted. Conversation bloomed almost immediately,one story sparking another, laughter spilling freely.
"So," Rebecca began, cutting into her food, "what's the plan for the next few weeks? Because I've already cleared my schedule for maximum chaos."
Elizabeth gave her a look. "We are not calling it chaos."
"It's festive chaos," Rebecca corrected.
Amy smiled, glancing between them. "I was told I'd be fed, taken to beautiful places, and allowed to enjoy myself. That's all I know."
Jace leaned back in his chair. "See? I've delivered exactly what I promised."
Rebecca watched them with a small smile before turning to Amy. "You should see the town during Christmas. You'll love it. We'll take you everywhere."
"Yes," Elizabeth agreed. "Markets, little cafés, the lights by the square. I've already made a list."
Amy blinked. "You weren't kidding about planning everything."
Elizabeth laughed. "I never kid about holidays, Tomorrow we'll start slow. Brunch in town, a walk by the square. The decorations are beautiful this time of year."
"And the bakery," Rebecca added quickly. "We're taking her to the bakery."
Amy's eyes lit up. "You see?" she said to Jace. "This is why I came."
He laughed. "Betrayed by baked goods."
Elizabeth watched the exchange fondly. "It's nice having someone new to show things to," she said. "It makes old places feel fresh again."
Rebecca raised her glass slightly. "To Amy, then. Reviving our traditions."
Amy flushed. "I'm honored."
They shifted naturally, talking over one another. Rebecca describing the town's Christmas market, Elizabeth explaining which shops had been there since her own childhood, Jace adding commentary that made everything sound slightly more dramatic than necessary.
"Don't let him fool you," Rebecca said, pointing her fork at Jace. "He loved Christmas here."
Jace scoffed. "I tolerated it."
"You cried when the tree fell over that one year," Elizabeth shot back.
"That was a traumatic event."
Amy laughed. "Wait....what happened?"
Elizabeth smiled at the memory. "He insisted on helping decorate. Tripped over the lights. Took the tree down with him."
"And still looked offended" Elizabeth added. Amy turned to Jace, eyes sparkling. "You did live like a prince."
He sighed theatrically. "I was a very misunderstood one."
At one point, Elizabeth shared a story about Jace insisting on wearing a tiny suit to Christmas dinner as a child, refusing to eat until everyone acknowledged he looked "important."
Amy laughed so hard she nearly dropped her fork.
"I told you," she said between giggles, turning to Jace. "You lived like a prince."
He groaned looking at his mom. "Please don't encourage this."
Elizabeth smiled fondly. "You should've seen him."
They moved on easily, talking about New Year's plans, about the quiet traditions Elizabeth insisted on keeping. Candles at midnight. Reflections. Gratitude.
"We always write down one thing we're thankful for," Elizabeth explained. "Then we burn the paper in the fireplace."
Amy's voice softened. "I love that."
Jace nodded. "It's grounding."
Rebecca grinned. "And emotional. Mom cries every year."
Elizabeth didn't deny it.
As dessert was served by the cook, Rebecca leaned back, satisfied. "This feels right," she said lightly.
Elizabeth looked around the table at her children, at Amy, at the easy warmth between them. She felt very good and warm seeing them all there.
Amy realized then that no one was performing, no one was trying too hard. They were just… together. Talking. Remembering. Planning. Being.
And as the evening stretched on, voices blending into something whole, she felt it settle in her chest.
Not the weight of expectation.
But the comfort of belonging.