"Hey, big guy!" I steady us both against the car.
"Daddy said we're making cookies! And Santa's coming!" His cheeks glow red, three-year-old grin electric with joy.
"He sure is!"
He giggles, wipes his nose on my sleeve, then attacks the car door handle until Logan appears to help.
Jessica has stopped at the curb's edge, arms crossed, watching with an expression I can't read.
"Hi, Jessica." I keep my voice light, teacherly.
"Hi, Reese." Her gaze flicks over me once, fast.
She glances at the glitter reindeer, then back at me. "Looks festive."
"We're trying."
The silence stretches. Logan's busy with Tyler's car seat, negotiating about whether dinosaurs can meet Santa.
Jessica's attention returns to me. "Tyler's been talking about you constantly."
I wait, unsure if that's good or bad.
She sighs, sharp. "He's confused by all of this. It's a lot for a three-year-old to process."
My spine stiffens. She’s not wrong.
"We're all just trying to make it work, Jess." Logan is suddenly beside me, voice firm.
Jessica's lips compress. "Of course. That's what I want too." She tucks her hands deep in her pockets. "Just remember he's still little. This is all very new for him."
"We will, we do." Logan says, restraint in his tone. “I hope you have a Merry Christmas at your Mom’s.”
Tyler hollers for music from the backseat while Logan buckles him into his carseat. I fumble for my phone. "Ready for Christmas songs, bud?"
"Ready!"
Jessica turns toward her building, then stops as if she’s going to say something but doesn’t. She walks away, white puffer bright against red brick, not waiting for acknowledgment.
Logan's jaw works as he rounds to the driver's side. He meets my eyes over the car roof, apology written in the line of his mouth.
"You okay?"
I force a laugh. "Are you? She seemed... tense."
"It's fine.Thanks for being here."
"Of course."
He reaches over once we're moving, fingers finding mine. One squeeze, solid and sure.
I focus on traffic, on lights, on Tyler's commentary about Santa's chimney logistics. But Jessica's words echo: confused, too much, still little. As if I'm some disruption rather than—what? What am I exactly?
Tyler kicks the seat, humming along to "Jingle Bells," telling his reflection about reindeer cookies. His world remains perfectly intact.
At the next red light, Logan leans over, kisses my temple.
The next morning Christmas arrives with Tyler yelling from his room downstairs at 5:36 AM. "SANTA CAME!"
