Despite Jess’ hatred toward cats, we’d adopted two from the Humane Society, Chuck and Taylor. Chuck’s decision to piss on Jessica every night while we slept earned him a trip back to the shelter.

Taylor spent her days sleeping in my lap while I worked, often remaining motionless for four or five hours at a time.

When Christmas came, everything changed.

“Do cats always act like this?” Jess asked.

Taylor was mid-tree, slapping at a Christmas ornament.

“Pretty much,” I said.

“Cats are dumb.”

It was our first Christmas together as a family. On Christmas morning, when the kids awoke, visions of my childhood promptly returned. Landon and Lily ran to the tree, surprised to see there were more gifts under the tree than the previous night when they went to bed.

“Santa came!” Landon shouted.

Lily, as always, agreed in the form of a toothy grin. Like her mother, she spoke very little and wore her emotions on her shirt sleeves.

Sitting side by side so close that we were touching, Jess and I sat and sipped coffee while the children opened their gifts. Then, we opened ours. The excitement in Jessica’s eyes that came with each present she opened was more rewarding than I ever imagined.

After the gifts had all been opened, Taylor played with the pieces of wrapping paper while we prepared for the trip to my parent’s house.

A second Christmas was enjoyed with my family. The joy on my mother and father’s faces as they witnessed Landon and Lily open their gifts was rewarding. I looked around the room. Scattered about, amidst the gifts, my family surrounded me. I’d made great strides in my recovery from incarceration in the past five years, and proof of it surrounded me.

Alec played with Landon in the back yard, showing him how to properly throw a football. In the past, he hadn’t so much as acknowledged Landon’s presence. Having an older brother meant the world to Landon. Having another younger brother didn’t seem to appeal to Alec at all. At least not until that day.

I sat alone, watching them play together for a long time. I feared joining my family in the other room would cause the development I was witnessing to cease. Derek soon joined them, and the three boys played catch together as brothers would.

Alec and Derek were both fabulous athletes. They played football, basketball, and ran in track.

As a child, I viewed sports as nothing but another means for someone to tell me what to do. I also despised failure. If I was part of a team, and the team failed, I failed. Regardless of my effort or devotion, I would have to accept that failure as mine. Succeeding at everything was my goal. An unrealistic goal, but a goal, nonetheless.

As a result of these personal beliefs and deficiencies, I never participated in sports.

Furthermore, I grew up with no desire to watch them on television. Short of the bits and pieces I’d seen by accident while my father watched, I’d never seen a professional football game or basketball game. I had no desire for that to change.

Short of their school games, I avoided sports entirely.

In retrospect, I believed my lack of interest disappointed my sons. They never said so, but they really didn’t have to. To love something as much as they did, and not have their father share that love would be difficult.

As I watched them play, I filled with resentment for not being more flexible in my beliefs. As that bitterness came to a head, I opened the sliding glass door and walked outside.

“Dad,” Landon shouted. “Are you going to play?”

Landon and Lily had been calling me dad for some time. I wondered how Alec and Derek would accept it. I mentally cringed as I walked to their side.

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll play.”

My mother didn’t get her white Christmas that year. The weather was unseasonably warm that day, setting an all-time record high. As we tossed the ball back and forth in the warm Christmas sun, I decided that God wanted to give the gift of sunshine that year.

Eventually, we agreed to go in and have another helping of Christmas dinner. Landon and Derek walked side by side, tossing the ball back and forth.

Alec sauntered toward the door at my side.

“The kids never really had a dad, did they?” he asked.

“No. Not really. He was a turd. He’s got half a dozen with three or four different women. Doesn’t care about any of them.”

“You going to adopt them?” he asked.

Jess and I had discussed it. We’d talked to an attorney and were getting our things in order, so I could do just that. Surprised, that he asked, I looked at him.

“I’m planning on it.”

He nodded and gave me a pat on the shoulder. “Good.”

Alec was a man of very few words. What he did say, he meant with all his heart.

“I think it’ll be good for all of us,” I said.

I realized, after I spoke, that all of us included him. I took a few hesitant steps and waited for him to respond.

“Having another brother and sister is kinda cool,” he said.

He didn’t say it would be cool, he said it was.

Fighting back tears, I acknowledged his statement. “I love you, Son.”

He patted me on the shoulder. “Love you, Pop.”

We stayed that day until the older kids had to go. Before they left, we announced that a decision had been made regarding our marriage.

In complete contrast to Jessica’s mother suggesting that we get married on December thirteenth, we opted to choose February fourteenth as our wedding day. Her mother believed marrying on 12-13-14 would be cute.

I never believed much in gimmicks and wanted our relationship to succeed based on love, not a quirky date. We couldn’t think of any other day that commemorated love more than Valentine’s Day, so that day was chosen.

We also decided to do it alone. In Las Vegas.

With my arm around Jess, I made the announcement. “We’re getting married on February fourteenth. Valentine’s Day. And, we’re doing it in Vegas.”

“Jesus H. Christ,” my father spat.

“David Wilson Hildreth!” my mother shouted.

“That’s great,” she said. “I’m glad you’ve decided on a date. It’ll be easy to remember your anniversary.”

“You going to have Elvis do it?” my father asked.

“No,” Jessica said. “We’ve got it scheduled at a church.”

“You’re actually going to a church?” my father asked, his tone reflecting slight interest.

“Yeah, kind of. It’s a church in the casino,” she said.

He rolled his eyes.

The older kids congratulated us, and then made their rounds, hugging everyone goodbye. Alec, once again, missed Jessica somehow.

I had to acknowledge his expressed acceptance of the children, and I did so. Mentally. His lack of acceptance of Jessica, willing or not, was crushing me.

The look in Jessica’s eyes as they drove away confirmed it was crushing her, too.