“What's so funny?” Stormi asked him.
“Nothing, Muffin.” Trying to change the subject because sometimes our daughter was like a hound dog when she wanted to know something, Bronson pointed at her gift and said, “Wow, that was nice of Santa.”
While Stormi mentioned she knew it could take a while to get what she wanted when she gave us her Christmas list to mail, I think she still believed that being Santa, he could work a miracle.
Maybe one would come soon.
Our angel, not being one to be unappreciative of the things she got, plastered on a smile, and told her dad that it was really cool of the man in the red suit to give her a gift.
“Is there anything else in the box?” I asked her casually.
She turned and rummaged through the tissue and pulled an envelope out. “Santa wrote me a letter?” Confusion etched across her angelic face.
“Well open it,” Bronson urged her.
Brows furrowed in concentration, she did as he asked and began to read. But unlike Bronson, when he’d read her letter to Santa, she didn't read her letter out loud.
We of course didn’t need to hear it to know what it said, since we had written it ourselves. It was short and sweet just like hers had been and I remembered every word.
Dear Stormi,
I’m sorry I couldn’t bring you exactly what you asked for but babies take time.
However, I am still working on it and believe it will work out.
And while I can’t promise a brother instead of a sister, I will do my best.
Please take this babydoll and practice, for one day, hopefully soon, you will hold the real thing.
Love, Santa
I saw the moment she finished. That bright smile of hers lit up the room and a happiness twinkled in her eyes.
“Santa wrote me back!” she exclaimed excitedly before getting up and racing toward her room.
“Hey, Roadrunner, where are you off to?”
Stormi stopped and turned around at the edge of the hall looking back at Bronson. “Who’s Roadrunner?”
Always curious. So much so, I heard Bronson call her Curious George a few nights before and had to explain that one. It wasbecoming a thing with them. He would call her names, say something silly, or make reference to things she had no clue about, and then they’d talk about it together.
Part of their father-daughter bonding time, it was special.
“I’ll show you later,” he answered.
“Okay. I’m gonna go put my letter in my room. Be right back.”
While she was out of earshot, I moved onto my husband's lap and wrapped my arms around his neck.
“She’s counting on us,” I told him as I leaned in and kissed the side of his neck. “Hope your swimmers are Olympic champions so it doesn’t take too long.”
A deep bark of laughter rumbled from my man’s muscled chest. The vibration ran straight through my body and hit my core causing it to tingle with need.
“Later, baby,” he whispered in my ear as his hand slid seductively over my ass.
Our daughter’s feet pounded back down the hallway and I gave myself a little shake as I moved off his lap. He gave me a knowing, sexy smirk and I stuck my tongue out at him.
“I’ll get you back later,” I taunted as Stormi ran into the room.
