"That was a good idea. I'm sure she loves having a place here," I said, impressed with his thoughtfulness.
"Can we decorate the tree today?" Sofia asked, her gaze moving from her father to me.
Maddox nodded. "I don’t see why not.”
I gestured at my outfit which was rumpled from sleeping in it all night. "I might want to run home to shower and change."
Maddox turned to the stove to check the pancakes. "It's still early. I can get the tree in the stand while you do that."
I was excited about the prospect of spending the day with Maddox and Sofia. It was nice to be included in a family activity. Especially when this was something my sister and I did with my parents every year. I didn't want to feel sad about my loss. I just wanted to enjoy the day with them.
I poured milk in my coffee and sipped it while I waited for my pancakes to cook. When Sofia was done eating, she placed her dish in the sink and asked, "Can I watch TV?"
He gave her a look. "Get dressed first. We have a lot of Christmas decorating to do."
She whooped and ran upstairs.
I smiled after her. "She seems excited about Christmas."
"Aren't all kids?"
"I didn't know if it was harder for her without her mother," I said carefully, wondering if I shouldn't have mentioned anything.
He leaned a hip against the counter. "Your instinct is correct. But it's been a couple of years now. She's feeling a little better this year. For a while there, she felt bad when she'd laugh or have fun."
"That's so tough." My heart ached for her.
"It seems like we're coming out of a fog. Things seem brighter and a little easier this year. I'm not saying there won't be hard times, but there's improvement."
"I get that."
His brows furrowed as he looked at me. "How about you? Is it too hard for you to do the holiday stuff? I can make an excuse to Sofia."
"It was something we did with my parents every year, but I think if I do it with you, it will create a new memory. It will be good for me, and I'm excited about it."
"If you have a hard time, just let me know. It's not like we don't understand what you're going through."
"Yeah, it is nice to talk to someone who gets it. Natasha does too, but I don't want to bring something up if she's feeling okay. I don't want to upset her, if that makes sense."
He transferred the pancakes to a plate. "That makes perfect sense."
"I'm cautiously optimistic that I'm going to get through the season okay. It helps that work keeps me so busy."
He slid a plate across the countertop toward me. "I find it's the down times that are the hardest."
I'd have to make sure I stayed busy then. My parents' death was sudden. I didn't get to see them grow old. They'd never walk Natasha or me down the aisle or meet our future kids. But I wasn't the only one who'd experienced loss, and Sofia was so young. It was so much harder for her.
I poured syrup over my pancakes.
His brows furrowed. "You use as much syrup as Sofia."
"Syrup should be its own food group," I teased.
He gestured at Sofia's spot which had dollops of syrup scattered around. "It makes a sticky mess on the counters."
I huffed out a laugh. "I promise to be less messy than an eleven-year-old."
He snorted.
