ACIR HILLS
The rain hadn’t let up by the time we reached Zaijian’s apartment.
The windshield wipers struggled against the sheets of water, sweeping back and forth in a rhythm that did little to improve visibility. Outside, Christmas Eve looked nothing like the postcards I’d grown up seeing. Instead of snow, there was a typhoon. Instead of jingling sleigh bells, there was the groan of wind bending trees and the occasional crack of distant thunder.
The moment we parked beneath the apartment building, Zaijian glanced toward the entrance. “Are you ready, baby?”
“Yes, baby. As ready as I’ll ever be.”
He reached into the backseat for the grocery bags before I could stop him. “I can carry some.”
“I know. You carried everything at the grocery.” I pointed out, seemingly like he didn’t even ne
