“Great, as usual,” he answered his sister. “That guy’s pretty unflappable. He took a tour out the other day, and even with a stalled snowmobile and a motion-sick grandma, he still said it was one of the best expeditions yet. He’s the eternal optimist. Nothing gets to him.”
“I always enjoyed him,” Sarah said before bouncing her baby on her hip and nuzzling noses. “Anyway, someone said she wants one last kiss and a bedtime story from her uncle before going down for the night.”
“Really?” Holden blinked, unbelieving. “She said all that?”
“Not in so many words, but I could read it in her eyes.”
While he cherished his niece and believed she was the smartest little thing in the world, Holden knew the vocabulary of a one-year-old was limited to ‘goo-goo’ and ‘ga-ga’. And ‘no’. That was a big one. But his sister’s exhaustion came through as loud and as clear as any verbalized sentence.
He scooped the child from her arms. “Why don’t you pour yourself a glass of wine and take a load off while I get this sweetie down for night-night?”
Sarah’s shoulders lifted and fell with a massive exhale. “Really?”
“I’ve got you,” he said, then patted the baby on the back of her fuzzy onesie. “And I’ve got this little one too. Send reinforcements if I’m not back in twenty.”
“Or cookies,” Jill interjected, pointing a spatula her son’s way. “They’ll be fresh out of the oven by then.”
“I’ll be sure to head down as soon as I smell them.”
He turned toward the hall and up the stairs, past his parents’ master bedroom and closer to the room that was once his, but had now transformed into a full-on nursery. The medals, trophies, and photographs, all boasting his high school achievements, were replaced with plush mobiles, paintings with nursery rhyme phrases, and muted pastel colors.
He didn’t mind it one bit. Things changed; life moved on. And the promise of a bright future in the form of this sweet child deserved to be decorated floor to ceiling.
“What’ll it be, Laney girl?” He moved her from one hip to the other and scanned the impressive board book selection on the shelf. His mom sure had things down in the spoiling department. “Are we leaning toward something Christmas themed?”
The baby’s chubby hand reached up to his cheek, her palm pressing against his stubbly jaw. She rubbed it back and forth and squealed.
“Uncle Holden needs to shave,” he teased. “Or maybe I should grow a beard like Santa Claus? What do you think? Ho, ho, ho.” He bounced her with the words.
Another bubbling laugh cooed from Laney’s lips, her kicking legs joining her delight.
“Hold still, wiggle worm.” He secured his grip around her. “Give me one second to find something.” Holden ran his fingers along the spines and landed on a tattered book that looked familiar. He tugged it from the shelf. “Rudolph’s Reindeer Games,” he read aloud.
Moving to the rocker near the window, Holden lowered and rotated Laney so she sat on his lap, facing the book held up in his hands. “If I remember correctly, this was a really good one.”
And it was, if you enjoyed reading about a sad little reindeer who lost nearly every competition against his caribou counterparts. How had Holden never noticed the similarities between this piece of fiction and his real life? It was as though Rachel Joy herself had penned the very words on the pages, the illustrations a stark reminder of all the times he’d focused on winning instead of the delight each holiday activity should bring.
He closed the book before finishing, grateful his niece was too young to call him out on that.
“Let’s try another one.” He hoisted her from his lap and selected another book from the stack, this one about a winter ballerina and her quest to find the Peppermint Patty Forest.
Thankfully, Holden couldn’t find any real-life similarities between these pages, and before he came to the closing sentence, Laney was fast asleep in his arms.
He gazed down at her soft lashes fluttering against rosy red cheeks. Even the patch of drool forming on his shirt from her open mouth couldn’t ruin the adorably peaceful moment.
The love he had for this little girl ran so deep, he sometimes wondered what it would feel like to have a child of his own. He couldn’t imagine his heart housing any more adoration than it already did. And yet, he knew if he were ever blessed with a family, that love would have the ability to crack his heart open in the best way possible.
Shifting from the rocking chair, he carefully transferred Laney to the crib, dimming the overhead light so a muted wash of gold kept the room illuminated.
He left the door open a crack. On an inhale, he caught the sugary aroma of freshly baked cookies, spurring his feet to move back through the halls. Like he had as a child, Holden bounded down the stairs two at a time, the promise of chocolate chip goodness beckoning him to the kitchen.
“How’d she do?” His mother looked up from the baking sheet. She pried a still-warm treat from the pan and moved it to a red platter with cookies stacked five high. “Did she go down okay?”
“Out like a light.” Holden snagged a cookie and popped a bite into his mouth. “Hey, Mom. Remember that old book about Rudolph? The one with all those rhymes and cartoon graphics?”
“Of course, I do. That was your favorite book. In fact, that copy upstairs isn’t even the original. I had to buy another because the pages got so worn from you carrying it everywhere you went when you were a toddler. You sure loved all of those reindeer games.”
Holden’s mouth slipped into a frown. “Have I always been so competitive?”
