"You two have a good morning?" Harlan asked as he flipped a sandwich in the pan.
"We had a playdate," Sean announced proudly. "Colored together."
"Sounds nice." Harlan glanced at me. "You eat breakfast?"
"Yeah, the pancakes. Remember?"
"That was hours ago." He pulled a sandwich off the griddle and plated it, sliding it across the counter to me. "Eat this. You need lunch."
I wanted to protest that I could wait for Simon, but my stomach growled traitorously. Besides, Harlan had that look that said he wasn't going to take no for an answer.
I ate the sandwich—perfectly golden and gooey with cheese—and sipped my lemonade. Sean sat beside me with his own sandwich, chattering about plans for Christmas.
"We're doing a big dinner on Christmas Eve," he explained. "Everyone on the ranch, all together. And then Christmas morning is for opening presents and being lazy."
"That sounds nice," I said. It really did. My Christmases for the past few years had been spent alone with takeout and a movie.
"You'll be here, right?" Sean looked at me with wide eyes. "Please say you'll be here."
"I…" I glanced at Harlan, who was watching me with a knowing expression. "I don't want to impose?—"
"You're not imposing," Harlan cut in. "You're family. Family stays for Christmas."
Family.
The word settled warmly in my chest.
"Then yeah," I said softly. "I'll be here."
Sean cheered and pulled me into a sideways hug. "This is going to be the best Christmas ever!"
The back door opened and Simon, Jackson, and Atticus filed in, all of them looking windblown and cold. Simon's eyes found mine immediately, and his whole face softened.
"Hey, bud," he said, coming over to me. His hand settled on the back of my neck, cold from outside but comforting nonetheless. "You have a good morning?"
"Really good." I held up my sippy cup. "Look what I’ve been using."
He took it from me, examining the elephant design with a smile. "Glad to see you’re staying hydrated."
I took it back and clutched it to my chest. "My Secret Santa really gets me. I might be too hydrated, Daddy."
"They really do get you," Simon agreed, and something in his tone made me look at him more closely.
But before I could analyze it, Atticus was pulling Sean into a hug, and Jackson was complaining about being hungry, and the moment passed.
We spent the afternoon as a group, everyone gathering in the living room again. Some people worked on various projects—Cory was knitting something, Ashley was reading, and Griffin was doing a crossword puzzle. I pulled out my coloring books and worked on another page, this time with Simon beside me on the couch.
He didn't color—just read his book—but his presence was soothing. Every so often, his hand would rest on my knee, or his thumb would brush against my thigh.
"You're really skilled at this," he murmured at one point, looking at my half-finished page.
"It's just coloring," I said, but I felt warm at the praise.
"It's more than that. You have an eye for color, for how things fit together." He leaned closer. "I'm proud of you for using the supplies. For letting yourself do something just because it makes you happy."
There was that phrase again. Just because it makes you happy.
Like that was reason enough. Like I didn't need to justify or explain or apologize for wanting things.
