Damn if that didn’t take me right back.
To that first road trip. To her pointing out every cow, bird, deer, or critter we drove past.
“Can’t get any more Christmasy than that,” I said, setting down my mug so I could move behind her and pull her back against me.
“Sure it can,” she said.
“How?” I asked, nuzzling into her neck as a cold breeze kicked up, blowing over us even way up on the balcony.
“There,” she said, nodding toward the long, empty road that led to the chalet.
Sure enough, there was our eldest’s truck chugging toward the chalet.
Not far behind him was our daughter’s sleek sedan.
And, finally, our other son’s SUV.
Like they’d coordinated it so they would all arrive—a day early—to surprise us.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “That’s even better.”
Lula relaxed back into me, her hands absentmindedly toying with the bracelet on my wrist. The color had worn off the beads years ago, but I refused to take it off.
“None of this would have been possible,” she said, “if it weren’t for you being such a stubborn ass.”
“If it hadn’t been for you being so easy to love,” I countered.
“Liar,” she said, turning to shoot me a smile. “I did not make that easy.”
“Maybe not. But you made it worth it.”
She leaned a little further to get a kiss.
“You don’t think he brought that damn chuckwalla, do you?”
“It’s gonna be in a Santa hat in our Christmas picture.”
“Oh, God. You’re probably right.”
With that, we turned to go back through the house to stand on the interior balcony looking down at the front door so we could watch the kids making their way in and taking in all the decorations.
We didn’t have to wait long.
The front door burst open.
The kids filed in.
Along with two dogs, a cat, and, yes, a chuckwalla.
“We did this,” Lula said, nudging me with her shoulder.
“Yeah,” I agreed, wrapping her up. “Yeah, we did.”
XX
