“Daddy! Just one, I not tell.”
“Oh, is that right?” I said, walking around the corner, smiling at my ornery little girl.
“She here!” Holland clapped. “John, Michael, time for presents!”
My nearly five-year-old twin nephews sat on the large sectional next to my dad, entranced in watchingThe Grinchon the flat-screen TV that hung above thefireplace.
“Merry Christmas, Birdie,” Colleen greeted me from the kitchen that overlooked the family room. “I hope you don’t mind that I started breakfast. Knox told me last night I was more than welcome to make breakfast this morning.” Colleen truly was the perfect housewife. She had already made a pound of bacon, sausage patties, and biscuits, and she was scrambling eggs at the cooktop. Pitchers of orange, apple, and cranberry juice sat side by side along the kitchen island.
“Merry Christmas.” I smiled. “Where are Connor and Ellie?” I looked around.
“They’re still getting up. The jet lag hit them last night and they stayed up way too late watching movies together.” She laughed.
“Here you go, love.” Knox handed me a hot cup of peppermint tea and placed a kiss on my cheek. “I figured you wouldn’t mind letting Colleen make breakfast this morning.”
“Thank you.” I inhaled the sweet scent of peppermint and herbs. It couldn’t hold a candle to the way Knox smelled, but it was close. “Better her than me.” I grinned.
“We’ve got breakfast going, and once Connor and Ellie come down, we’ll get started opening the presents,” he told Holly, who ran over to us and lifted her hands up so one of us would hold her.
I put her on my hip and walked to the sectional and sat down next to my dad. Connor and I had always spent the holidays together, especially after our mom passed. So having his family here wasn’t unusual, but having my dad here, celebrating Christmas, felt unreal.
After I moved to Wexstone and started working for the palace, Dr. Sanchez, Knox’s therapist, suggested that I see Dr. Ghana, her colleague. As hard as it was to dredge through all of the emotions and feelings I had suppressed over the years, I loved going each week to talk to her. The way she helped meview certain life events and reframe my way of thinking was freeing and so enlightening.
I was hesitant when she first brought up reconciling with my dad, but now I was thankful to her for giving me the tools to work through everything with him. We both wanted a relationship but just didn’t know where to start or how to repair what had been damaged.
A year after I had moved here, he came with Conner and Colleen to visit. Dr. Ghana made time to see us together and even helped my dad find his own therapist in the States. It hadn’t been rainbows and sunshine at first, and that first visit with him in Wexstone had been so awkward, but we both pushed through the tension and fought for the relationship we have now.
“Merry Christmas, Dad,” I said as I sat next to him.
“Merry Christmas, honey.” His eyes crinkled from the smile that took over his whole face. “This version is so different than the version I grew up with as a kid. The animation is great, and I love the music.”
“I wike when Gwinch works out and put his booty in Max face!” Holly giggled from beside us.
I let out a belly deep laugh as Holly crawled into my dad’s lap and laid her head back against his chest. I didn’t miss the fact that my dad slowly closed his eyes as they filled with tears, clearly taking in the moment with his grandkids and daughter on Christmas morning and placing it in his core memory bank.
Everyone finally gathered into the family room, and the kids sat in a big circle on the floor as we divided up all of their presents. Holly could barely contain her excitement, her eyes roaming over all the presents, taking stock of which she would open first. She looked around the room, seeing that all the presents had been passed out to each recipient. She looked at me and asked, “Can I open?”
“Yes, baby. Open them!”
My girl had been waiting so patiently for this. At Knox’s family Christmas, each person had to take a turn as everyone watched and gauged your excitement. In our house on Christmas morning, it was pure chaos. Wrapping paper and boxes and gift bags were tossed every which way. Squeals, laughter, and gasps echoed through the room.
Holly opened her last box and pulled out a pink shirt I had bought her at the last minute.
“Gwandpa. What say?” she asked my dad, who stood next to her with a trash bag in hand.
A huge smile overtook his face as he read the shirt out loud.
“It says ‘Big Sister,’” he laughed, his eyes widening. “She’s going to be a big sister?” He looked between Knox and me.
“She is.” I smiled, rubbing little circles over my stomach, which already felt so much bigger in this second pregnancy than it had with Holly.
“Oh my gosh!” Colleen exclaimed. “This is so exciting.”
“When are you due?” my dad asked.
“Late July.”
“Congratulations, man.” Connor gave Knox that pat on the shoulder that all men seem to do.
