Archive of Our Own

Anthony Lockwood couldn’t remember the last time he had been excited to go to Mass. Growing up, going to Mass every weekend seemed like a chore, and it was a routine he had gladly given up once he’d moved away to college. Sure, Lockwood would still attend Mass whenever his parents were home, but now that both Lockwood children were, well, no longer children, Donald and Celia Lockwood spent more and more time outside of the United States, leaving Lockwood and Jessica to their own devices. While Jess still attended Mass regularly, Lockwood only went when it was absolutely necessary.

Like now. It was Christmas Eve, the weather was a balmy 65 degrees, and Lockwood was standing in his childhood bedroom trying to tie his tie perfectly. He could usually do it without thinking, of course, but for some reason, Lockwood’s usual Windsor knot was getting sloppier and sloppier.

“Alright, son?” Donald Lockwood’s deep voice sounded from the doorway. Lockwood turned and gave his father an exasperated look, which only caused the elder Lockwood to chuckle. “Having trouble?”

“Yes,” Lockwood admitted tersely, “I can’t seem to get this damn knot straight.” He undid the knot and petulantly flung the bright pink tie across the room, where it landed haphazardly on his dresser. 

“Well maybe you shouldn’t be wearing a bright pink tie to Christmas Eve Mass,” Donald said. He strode over to Lockwood’s closet, where an array of ties were hung up and arranged by color, a preference shared by the two Lockwood men. Lockwood silently agreed, even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud. “How about a deep red instead? Or a navy blue?”

“Red,” Lockwood said. 

“Mmm,” Donald shook his head and took the blue one. “I think this will fit better.”

“But red fits more to Advent!”

“ Christmas , not Advent, Anthony. Don’t tell me all those years of PSR were wasted on you. Advent colors would be purple and pink. Trust me, I think the blue will look better.” Donald was wearing a garish Christmas-themed tie, one that a much younger Jessica had gotten him years ago, but Lockwood wouldn’t be caught dead wearing something as ostentatious as that.

“Fine,” Lockwood relented. He took the navy blue tie from his father and was able to knot it perfectly in one go. Refusing to give his father the satisfaction of being right, Lockwood shrugged on his suit jacket, sprayed on some sandalwood cologne, and walked out of his bedroom while his father gave him an amused look before following him out. 

“We’ll have to leave soon, girls!” Donald shouted up the staircase before the two men descended to the ground floor. Celia, Jess, and Lucy were all getting ready together in Jess’s former bedroom, now Lucy’s room. Lockwood knew that Lucy had been planning on spending Christmas with Kipps’ family out in Lake Saint Louis, but the hoosier had dumped her just a couple weeks before, leading Lockwood to invite her to spend Christmas with his family. 35 Portland Place was her home now too, after all, and even if Lockwood would never admit it out loud, he hated the idea of spending any holiday without Lucy. 

George, on the other hand, was a different story. His family didn’t celebrate Christmas, and George wasn’t a fan of the Lockwoods’ tradition of Chinese takeout after Christmas Eve Mass instead of actually preparing something, so the third occupant of 35 Portland Place was spending the week up in Chicago visiting extended family. 

Lockwood and his father sat down in the front room as they waited for Celia, Jessica, and Lucy to finish up. It was 3PM. Mass wasn’t until 4:30, but the Christmas Eve Mass at the local university’s chapel was so popular that the five of them needed to get there early to secure their seats. When he was younger, Lockwood and his sister would pass the time teasing each other and making up stories about the stained glass windows. At least this year he could talk to Lucy.

Speaking of the curvy redheaded Minnesotan,  he could hear footsteps coming down the stairs, and he and Donald stood up out of habit and walked over to the staircase. Jess came down first, wearing an emerald green wrap dress with gold jewelry and her hair done up. She looked like she did whenever she went to Mass; out of the four Lockwoods, she was the one who dressed up the most. 

Lockwood’s mother came right after her, and Lockwood saw how his father’s eyes lit up at the sight of his wife. His mother had plenty of laugh lines on her face, and her eyes lit up too as she spotted the two men. “Don’t you two just look lovely?”

Opening his mouth to reply, Lockwood froze as Lucy Carlyle finally made her way down the stairs. He now understood why his father had been so adamant that Lockwood wear his navy blue tie, because Lucy was wearing the dress he had bought her for her birthday last month. It had taken a lot of cajoling on Lockwood and Jess’s part before Lucy agreed to let them take her on a shopping spree for professional clothes. Lockwood had argued that Lockwood & Co, the name of their storm-chasing team, needed to look more professional than the other amateur storm-chasers, but really, he just wanted an excuse to spoil Lucy. Lucy had finally relented, but only on the condition that she get one item, instead of the three Lockwood had originally gifted her. 

She had eventually settled on a navy blue dress, the very one she was wearing now. Lucy’s dress fit her perfectly, and Lockwood couldn’t help but notice how much more confident she seemed in the long-sleeved number. He knew she was self-conscious about her body; Lockwood had heard plenty of snide remarks from Kipps back when he was still even allowed to visit her at 35 Portland Place.

“Luce…” Lockwood said without thinking, and while his family held back smiles, “you look…”

“What?” Lucy shifted uncomfortably, so Lockwood wracked his brain for a response.

“...incredible,” he decided on, and gave her a grin. “You look incredible, Luce.” Turning to Donald, he continued, “I can see why you wanted me to wear the navy blue tie, Dad.”

Lucy blushed and her hand flew up to her throat to fiddle with something. Weird, Lockwood thought to himself. Lucy didn’t normally wear jewelry, claiming it just got in her way. Jess nudged Lucy playfully. “You’ll break the chain if you keep doing that, Lucy.”

Blushing even more, Lucy dropped her hands to her side, letting Lockwood see what was hanging around her neck for the first time. He didn’t recognize it at first, but he soon realized that it was a family heirloom - Grandma Lockwood’s diamond necklace. It had been gifted to Jessica on her thirteenth birthday, but Jessica was more into gold jewelry and had hardly ever worn it. Lockwood couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her wear it. 

He gave his family a questioning look. 

“It’s just for the night,” Lucy said carefully, and Lockwood was afraid she thought he didn’t want her wearing it. “Your mom just thought it’d go well with the dress, but I can take it off if you want–”

“No! No, keep it on,” Lockwood replied hurriedly. “I’m just surprised to see it, that’s all. I think the last time Jess wore it was at her high school graduation.”

The Lockwoods all laughed, but Lucy still looked uncomfortable. “If you say so…” she trailed off, her right hand creeping up to her throat.

“We don’t have time to dilly dally,” Donald interjected. “Let’s skedaddle.” The five of them slipped on light coats, as it was unseasonably warm for Christmas Eve, and made their way out to the car. 

Lockwood prepared himself to sit in the middle seat, as he had always done growing up whenever Jess would invite a friend anywhere, but to his surprise, Lucy slid into the middle without complaint. 

“I’m the youngest sister,” she said without prompting when Lockwood gave her a weird look, “and honestly, I don’t mind. I’m shorter than you guys anyway.”

“If you say so,” Lockwood replied. He made a note to himself to take the middle seat on the way back from Mass. 

The ride to the university chapel was thankfully short, which was good for Lockwood, because he wasn’t able to focus on anything other than the fact that Lucy’s left knee was pressed up against his right one, because Donald Lockwood had bought a comically small car to replace the much more practical minivan he’d driven when Lockwood was a boy. Lockwood couldn’t remember the last time he had been so close to Lucy. They had sat pretty close to one another at Halloween, when Lucy was wearing that poor excuse for a dress, but something about this moment felt more intense.

Walking into the chapel, Lockwood was instantly greeted with the strong smell of incense. That was one of his favorite parts of Mass; as a child, he could never pay attention to any of the readings or prayers, but the smell of incense was comforting. He looked over at Lucy to gauge her reaction. She’d told him once that she was raised Lutheran in the loosest sense of the word, and stopped attending services as soon as she had her First Communion. Lucy also didn’t have a particular love for Christmas or any other holiday, claiming that her dysfunctional family made the holiday season just too stressful to really enjoy them. 

Lockwood hoped that he could make this Christmas a good one for her. Luckily, Lucy knew the basics of church on Christmas, and genuflected with the rest of them after Jess led them all to a pew up front. Donald and Celia filed in first, followed by Jess, and Lockwood gestured for Lucy to go in before him so he’d sit at the end. Jess would probably be more of a help than he would when it came to explaining the ins and outs of a Catholic service. They had a good view of the stained glass windows from this position, and Lockwood appreciated that because he knew his mind would inevitably start to wander during Father Gary’s thirty minute homily. He liked the priest, honestly, but Lockwood had a laughably short attention span. He hoped Lucy wouldn’t be as bored as he’d be. 

They still had thirty minutes or so to kill before the service started, so Lockwood began to tell Lucy about the history of the chapel. He wanted her to relax, given that she was playing with the seams of her tights, and he didn’t want her to rip the pair like she did on Halloween. The thoughts he’d had after that night… At least now he wasn’t coveting ‘Kipps’ girl.’ God . He shook his head mentally. It felt wrong to think of Lucy like that, like some guy’s property, but when Lucy had been with Kipps, that’s all the hoosier had seen her as. And then he’d dumped her, leaving Lockwood and George to clean up the pieces. 

He felt a nudge against his thigh. “Hey, you alright?” Lucy asked him in a soft but worried tone. “I’ve been trying to get your attention.”

“Sorry, Luce,” he replied with a forced smile. “Just got lost in thought. What’s up?”

“Just wondering why we got here so early if Jess knows the ushers and could’ve gotten us these seats anyway.” They turned around to look at the rest of the chapel. It was beginning to fill up, but there was still some room in the back.

“Jess thinks it wouldn’t be fair,” he said. “Plus, it’s become sort of a joke of ours to leave earlier and earlier each year. When we were little, Jess and I would make up stories about the stained glass figures. The past couple of years, I had to find ways to be on my phone without Jess or Mom noticing.”

“And what about this year?”

“Well, this year, I can talk to you.”

Lucy blushed, and Lockwood couldn’t help but smile. His feelings for her were getting harder and harder to deny, especially now that she was single. Lockwood knew that she’d need time to recover from her breakup, though, if the night after Kipps dumped her was anything to go by. The three of them had stayed up late into the night, eating toasted ravioli and drinking shitty beer, until George had called it a night and gave Lockwood a scathing look before he went upstairs. Lucy had been practically on Lockwood’s lap at that point, and Lockwood had been fighting the urge to wrap his arms around her waist to pull her closer. 

He hadn’t, of course, but God, had he wanted to. Luckily, Lucy had dozed off soon after that, so Lockwood was able to extricate himself and make his way upstairs without waking her. Even more luckily, Lucy seemed to not remember anything after her third beer. And George seemed all too content to never bring up that night again.

“Lockwood.” Lucy’s amused tone broke him away from his thoughts. 

“Yes?” He answered distractedly, still staring forward at the stained glass windows. 

“You’ll have to scootch over,” Lucy continued, “more people are coming and they’re trying to squeeze an extra family in our row.”

Lockwood looked to his right and saw that there was indeed a family of five standing expectantly at the end of the pew. “Ope, sorry,” he said bashfully, before scooting further down. He was sitting even closer to Lucy now, and let out a shiver despite the warmth emanating from her. Lucy seemed unaffected. 

Lockwood glanced down at his watch. 4:10. Twenty more minutes to kill. “So, what’d you get George for Christmas?” Lucy opened her mouth to respond, giving him an indignant look, but Lockwood continued anyway. “And yes, I know he doesn’t celebrate Christmas, but I also know you got him something. I did as well.”

Her eyes softened. “A beer variety pack I saw at Schnuck’s. Nothing too big, but it felt wrong not getting him anything . Especially after he cooked us that wonderful Thanksgiving dinner. I haven’t wrapped it yet.”

“I got him the same thing,” Lockwood admitted. “D’you think he’ll mind?”

Lucy snorted a tad too loudly, and looked around sheepishly. “I doubt it, but maybe one of us should get a different variety pack. You know he hates repetition.”

“Psst,” Jess’s voice interrupted. “They’re starting with some carols in a couple of minutes.” Jess gestured to the pamphlets. “Either sing with us or shut it,” she ended with a sweet smile, before standing up with the rest of the congregation. 

“Alright then,” Lockwood said as everyone around them began singing “Silent Night.” He gave Lucy a questioning look and stood up.

“You know I can’t sing,” Lucy hissed back, but she got up anyway. Lockwood noticed that the family next to him only had two pamphlets, so he handed his to the frazzled mother and looked at Lucy expectantly. She handed hers over, their fingertips brushing slightly, and Lockwood felt like he was in a goddamn Regency movie, like the ones Jess and his mom always made him watch growing up. 

He did know she couldn’t sing; Lucy certainly wasn’t lying about that. There was still something charming about her humming along, slightly off-key, while the Lockwoods sang perfectly in tune. Lucy looked shocked at his singing voice, but she quickly recovered and lowered her volume even more. 

Mass simultaneously lasted ten hours and ten seconds. Lockwood was all too aware of Lucy Carlyle sitting/standing/kneeling next to him the entire time, which distracted him from the actual service going on. He felt like he was just going through the motions, which, to be fair, was how he usually felt when he attended Mass. Lucy, however, seemed to be paying attention, nodding and laughing along at Fr. Gary’s homily before rising with the rest of them at the end. If Jess weren’t right next to her, Lockwood would’ve attempted to talk to Lucy during the service. Alas, his only choice was to daydream. 

Lockwood’s parents had gotten married here over thirty years ago. He hadn’t told a soul this, not even his sister, but he’d always wanted to get married in this chapel, too. Sure, there were certainly more beautiful churches in St. Louis, like the Cathedral Basilica where Jess usually attended Mass, but there was just something cozy about Graham Chapel, especially in winter. He’d seen his parents’ wedding photos, and while Celia Lockwood née Stroud complained about how she almost slipped on the icy sidewalks of campus almost a dozen times that day, even she admitted there was something magical about that snowy day. The photographer had captured the two of them sharing a kiss as snow fell all around them. 

He hoped he’d be able to convince Lucy his future wife to get married here some day. He’d be fine not having a Catholic wedding (even if his mother would be very, very disappointed in him), but getting married in Graham Chapel? That would be nonnegotiable. 

An image of a woman in white standing in front of the chapel doors appeared in his mind. As much as he tried to make her as generic as possible, it soon became clear that he was dreaming of his wedding day with Lucy. Lucy. The woman standing next to him in the navy blue dress that fit her like a glove. The woman who laughed at his corny jokes and wasn’t afraid to tease George even when he was being particularly ornery. The woman who–

“Lockwood?” The woman who was snapping him out of his daydream yet again.

“Yes, Luce?” Lockwood looked down at her with what had to be a dreamy look in his eyes, if her confused expression was anything to go by. 

Her hand was extended. “It’s time for the Sign of Peace.” That meant they were closer to being done with the service.

Used to attending Mass with just his family, who always hugged each other during the Sign of Peace instead of shaking hands, Lockwood did what any self-respecting lapsed Catholic would do and pulled Lucy in for a hug out of habit, while whispering “and also with you” in her ear.

Lucy stiffened, and Lockwood jolted back like he’d been burned. “What was that for?” She gave him a puzzled look. “And isn’t it ‘and with your spirit’ now?” Damnit. She was right. They’d changed the response back when Lockwood was like twelve, but old habits die hard. 

“Uh, yes,” Lockwood replied sheepishly, “but–”

“SHH!” Jess gave Lockwood a dirty look over Lucy’s head, and he immediately shut up. 

There would be plenty of time to discuss what had just happened (well, a condensed and highly edited version of it) after Mass, but for the time being, Lockwood was stuck until Fr. Gary finally said the words “Go forth, the Mass is ended” and they could all reply “Thanks be to God.”

After what seemed to be the world’s longest rendition of “O Come All Ye Faithful,” Lockwood all but sprinted out of the chapel. He knew his parents and Jess would hang around to talk to Fr. Gary, but Lockwood wanted nothing more than to escape outside and try to figure out what the hell just happened there.

He and Lucy had hugged before, of course. Lockwood was a very touchy person, and while Lucy was normally rather reserved (if not standoffish), she did tend to loosen up a bit, especially after a couple drinks. Not that he made the first move or anything. It was always Lucy who initiated those hugs, and Lockwood returned them every time. 

“Lockwood?” Lucy’s timid voice came from behind. “You good?”

“Yeah, Luce, I’m fine,” he said, trying to make his voice not sound shaky. “I should’ve warned you that we hug in our family–”

“Oh, Jess told me while we were getting ready, but I forgot in the moment. I was more surprised that you said ‘and also with you’ after all this time,” Lucy sounded more confident now, which relaxed Lockwood a tad. “I’m sure even George knows they changed it, and I don’t think he’s ever set foot in a church before.”

“No, definitely not,” Lockwood agreed. He ushered her over to the side of the chapel near the university library. On any other weekend, the campus would be swarming with students enjoying the unseasonably warm weather, but now that it was winter break, the campus was dead. “I have to call in our order,” he said as he took out his phone and turned it on, “otherwise we have to wait for ages once we get to the Chinese place.”

“You know, I still don’t understand why you guys eat Chinese food on Christmas Eve,” Lucy smiled. “Even we had a home cooked meal growing up, even if it wasn’t that good.”

Lockwood shrugged. “I dunno,” he replied, “it’s just what we’ve always done. We cook so much the next day that it’s just not worth the hassle, especially right after Mass. Dad and I are always starving by the time Fr. Gary does the dismissal.”

Lucy got quiet. “I’m glad I got to be a part of it this year,” she said, looking at the ground. “I’m so sorry to impose on you guys, especially so last minute.”

“Luce–” Lockwood had so much he wanted to tell her.

“C’mon, you two!” Jess’s cheery voice interrupted Lockwood, and he groaned internally. Why did his sister always know exactly when to interrupt? “Call the order in, Anthony! I’m starving!”

Lockwood did as he was told, and the five of them walked back to the car. He was so distracted that he didn’t even try to get to the middle seat before Lucy climbed in. It seemed like she was trying to keep her distance from him; the loss of heat was especially noticeable after they had spent an hour crammed together in a pew. He tried not to dwell on that during the ride to Corner 17.

“C’mon, Anthony, come help me with the food,” Donald called out after he had easily found a parking spot on Delmar. Lockwood clambered out of the car and followed his father in. The restaurant was packed for Christmas Eve; evidently, the Lockwood family was not the only family too lazy to cook for themselves. 

“You alright, son? You’ve seemed out of sorts ever since Lucy came down the stairs.”

Lockwood sighed. His father was always too perceptive for his own good. “I’m fine,” he said, and he wasn’t lying, not really. “It’s just been an eventful day.”

Donald gave his son an encouraging smile. “That it has,” he agreed, “that it has. Listen, if you wanted to let Lucy keep the–”

He wasn’t sure why the universe hated him, but yet another conversation was interrupted. At least this time, it meant that they had piles of piping hot Chinese food. Lockwood knew, deep down, what his father was trying to tell him, yet he ignored it anyway. It was too soon, he told himself, far too soon after such a horrible breakup. 

The women’s eyes lit up as Donald and Lockwood got back in the car, arms laden with delicious-smelling Chinese food. Once they all got home, Jess and Celia immediately started setting out plates on the kitchen counters, while Donald and Lockwood laid out the food. 

Lucy stood in the doorway, shifting uncomfortably. “Anything I can do to help?”

“No, no,” the four Lockwoods responded in unison. Lockwood gave her a sheepish look. “You can go get changed, if you like. I’ll fix a plate for you. We’ll be in the family room.” 

She nodded and hurried up the stairs, clearly impatient to get out of her dress and tights. Lockwood couldn’t blame her. He’d already shed his jacket in the car, and all he had to do was take off his button-up and trade his dress pants for the tacky Christmas pajama bottoms Jess had gotten him last year. 

After fixing Lucy a plate, Lockwood bounded up the stairs to change. When he returned downstairs, he saw Lucy sitting awkwardly on the couch, her plate of Chinese food untouched in her lap. 

“You can start eating, you know,” Lockwood teased. “Jess and Mom will be a while. We just won’t start the movie until they’re down.” Just like Mass at Graham Chapel and Chinese food for dinner, watching “Meet Me in St. Louis” was another Lockwood family tradition. Lockwood had seen the film countless times and could practically recite it by heart, yet he still happily watched it every year.

He grabbed his plate full of scallion pancakes, wontons, and hand-pulled noodles and sat down next to Lucy. She was in his usual spot, whether she knew it or not, but Lockwood didn’t mind. He inched a bit closer to her, nonchalantly, but Lucy didn’t bat an eye, instead taking a large bite out of her scallion pancake. 

Once his family were settled in their spots with their dinners, Jess turned off the lights and turned on the movie. The familiar sounds of the opening theme washed over them, and Lockwood couldn’t help but smile. 

Lucy scarfed down her food, eyes trained on the sappy story playing out before them. Before long, both their plates were empty, so Lockwood took hers without a word and got up to get them both seconds. 

When he returned, he decided to sit even closer to Lucy, just to see if she’d notice. Sure enough, his roommate didn’t bat an eye, just reached for her plate and kept her eyes on the film. He curled up next to her and dug into his second helping.

Further into the film, Lucy set hers and Lockwood’s plates on the coffee table before taking a throw blanket and wrapping herself in it. She looked absolutely adorable, Lockwood thought, and he wished he could wrap an arm around her and bring her closer to him. He knew his family was hardly paying attention to the movie at this point, choosing instead to sneak furtive glances at him and Lucy. He could feel the warmth coming off of her body.

Once the film was over, Lockwood’s family retired for the night. It wasn’t late at all, barely 7:30, but Lockwood knew they wanted to give him and Lucy some “alone time,” even if it wouldn’t amount to anything. Still, he took the opportunity to watch the SNL Christmas Special, knowing that Lucy would want to watch it too.

At some point during the second film, when the two of them were now sharing a blanket, Lucy’s head landed on Lockwood’s shoulder. He froze, not sure what to do, half hoping that she had finally made a move. When he looked down, he realized that she had simply fallen asleep. Her mouth was open slightly. 

“Luce,” Lockwood said softly, not wanting to startle her.

“Mmmm,” she replied, burrowing deeper into Lockwood’s side. 

He sighed. There was no way to move her without startling her awake, yet he didn’t even want to move her in the first place. Lockwood decided that when she woke up, he’d pretend that she’d only been out for a minute or two, and that she hadn’t been leaning against him the entire time. “Good night, Luce. Merry Christmas.”

He was willing to stick to this plan, until he found himself dozing off, too. That night, Lockwood dreamed of a white winter wedding at Graham Chapel. He had a feeling he recognized the woman in the dream, too.