I relaxed slightly.
"And," Mia continued. "I was thinking maybe we could invite my Dad."
I looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. "You want a family dinner?"
"I guess."
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," I mused. The guest list sounded like a recipe for disaster.
"We can cook," Mia told me, inadvertently adding more distaste to the suggestion.
"I'll call a caterer."
"No," she argued. "That's not Christmas. We'll cook and decorate the house."
"You understand that there's a reason I keep Lydia in my employment?" I asked her.
"Don't be a Grinch."
"I'm not being a Grinch," I huffed, despite her speaking the truth. "It's just been a few years since I've actually sat down to a proper dinner at Christmas."
"Tell me about it," Mia said but it was a question, not a demand. She wanted to know more about me.
"The last one must have been just before Dad died, with Mom, Stefan and Andrew. After he died and I took all this on, Christmas just became a day with Dante or Amber."
At the mention of Amber, Mia looked away from me. I knew that she didn't particularly like the thought of Amber, but I was being honest. Maybe it was time for things to change. If this dinner was what Mia wanted, I would give it to her.
I pulled Mia so that she straddled my waist. "Princess, if you want a family dinner then we'll have one."
"Are you serious?" Mia asked.
If I had any doubts, they were washed away by the spark in her eyes. I’d walk through hell if Mia asked me to do it just to see her happy.
"Yes."
"With Dad?"
"I'll let Hector know when I see him next week."
Mia leaned down and kissed me. "Thank you, Luc.”
∞∞∞
A few days later, Dante and I stood in the driveway of the house and watched a truck deliver the tallest fir tree that would fit in the living room. This would be the first time a Christmas tree had been brought into the house since Dad had passed away. Mia and I had come to an agreement that we would keep it tame, easing me back into the holiday spirit. A lie had been told.
"We've got it. Don't worry," I grumbled as I signed for the monstrosity. Dante helped me to get it into the house and then into the living room where Mia had directed it to be installed. It had already littered a trail of needles through the house.
"Never thought I'd see the day you'd do Christmas again," Dante commented.
"Yeah, well..."
"Mia?" he filled in the black without hesitation.
I shrugged. "It's just a bunch of decorations. It's not going to kill me. What's going to kill me is dinner."
"What dinner?" Dante asked, confused. "Tonight?"
"No," I sighed. "She wants to host dinner on Christmas day. You're invited."
