“I really would prefer to sit this one out,” I commented but Maggie shook her head indignantly.

“If you think for a second that I’m dealing with both our families on my own, you’re out of your mind,” she replied hotly.

“They won’t even be looking at you,” I offered weakly. “They’ll be so focussed on Isobel, they won’t even talk to you.”

“Then the same logic applies to you,” she shot back. “Now shut up and stuff the mushrooms. Welcome to parenthood. It’s filled with shit you don’t want to do.”

I groaned inwardly but I didn’t want to show my displeasure.

After all, it was the first time our families had seen our daughter since she had been released from the hospital.

Coincidentally, it was also Christmas Eve.

“If we can get through this without bloodshed, it’ll be a Christmas miracle,” I mumbled, mostly to myself as I continued to work on the hors d’oeuvres.

“Keep your sarcasm to a minimum,” Maggie called. “Regan already hates you.”

“That’s okay,” I piped up. “At least she will have company in my parents this time.”

Maggie paused and glanced at me from the living room where she was organizing presents for her nieces under the tree.

She looked radiant in the soft light of the garlands and I had to marvel at her fair skin.

God, she hasn’t aged a bit since high school. Even after everything life has thrown at her, the sleepless nights, the stress of Isobel’s birth. She’s incredible.

I knew that the picture I had of her in that moment was going to remain in my catalogue of Christmas memories forever.

“Do you realize it’s been ten years since they’ve all been together under one roof?” she commented.

“No way. That long?”

She bobbed her head and let out a noise that was something between a grunt and a laugh.

“That’s a decade of bad blood to rehash.”

“Nothing like kids to bring family together,” I snickered but the words encouraged me to say something that had been weighing heavily on my mind.

“Maggie, before they get here, I want to talk to you about something.”

She peered at me pensively.

“Sounds serious,”

I inhaled sharply, swallowing what little pride I had left.

“What happened with the investment – “

“Silas, I feel like that happened ten years ago,” she interjected. “It’s done. I know you thought you were doing the right thing at the time. I’m not mad about it anymore.”

“No, listen, I still lost that money and I know that it wasn’t small potatoes. I just want you to know that I’m going to replace every penny of it, even it takes me the rest of my life.”

A slow grin formed on her lips and she studied my face silently for a long moment.

“You really haven’t figured it out yet, huh?”

I stared at her uncomprehendingly.

“Figured what out?”

She snickered and Isobel began to fuss in her crib as she woke from her nap.

Maggie made her way toward our child as I continued to watch her, waiting for her to elaborate.

“For years, you thought I was being cheap and stingy, refusing to spend on trivial things and pay a fortune on New York rents. You thought my business moves were too frugal.”

I felt my back tense as I sensed a blast of shit coming.

“Maggie, I never said any of that,” I protested. “You were always better with money than me. You kept us afloat for years while I made stupid moves.”

She nodded, scooping Isobel into her arms and snuggling our still tiny infant to her bosom.

“Yes,” she agreed. “I did. And you know what the result of all that was?”

I didn’t.

“I invested under the guidance of one of the top advisors in the country,” she explained. “And I’m a billionaire, Silas. The money I managed to squirrel away and keep you from gambling has matured a hundred times over.”

I gaped at her, the magnitude of her words stunning me.

Of course she has, I thought, shaking my head as the respect and admiration I had for her multiplied insurmountably.

“The point is, losing the hundred grand pissed me off, yes, but in the grand scheme of things it’s not going to affect Isobel or our future one way or another.”

“Our future?” I murmured softly and she shrugged, bouncing the baby gently.

“It is our future, isn’t it?”

I inhaled, a feeling of peace stealing through me.

“Oh God,” I whispered, pulling my family into my arms. “I certainly hope so.”