CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
HALEY
CHRISTMAS DAY
There’s a moment of panic when I wake unable to find Dane. He’s gone, I think, up and left in the night.
Until he emerges from the bathroom, freshly showered. He drops his towel and descends on me. “Morning, beautiful.”
I kiss him back. “Merry Christmas, handsome.”
“Oh, yes. Christmas.”
I can hear Andy down the hall. He’s awake.
“I’ll get him,” Dane smiles, starting to walk off.
“Ah, you might want to put some underwear on lest you scar him for life with that Louisville Slugger of yours.”
Dane winks and takes a fresh pair of underwear from his duffle bag. “Good thinking.”
I watch him disappear down the hall, his tight ass shifting from side to side. And it’s all yours, forever.
I pull the blankets around myself and smile. It’s bliss, pure, unadulterated bliss.
“Let’s see what Santa brought you, hey,” says Dane down the hall, Andy babbling back in toddler-speak.
There’s a tenderness between my legs as I make my way to the shower, but it’s more than welcome given what I experienced last night. If that’s one night, I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like spending a lifetime with this man.
Incredible. That’s what.
I shower and dress in a sweater and slacks, surprised to find Dane has not only changed and dressed Andy, but found a pair of pants for himself, too.
Dane holds Andy in one arm. “Look, Momma’s here. What do you say, Momma? Is it present time?”
I breathe out. How am I going to put this? “I didn’t buy any p-r-e-s-e-n-t-s.” Food was more important at the time than a shiny new toy that will probably break within a week.
“Ah,” Dane smiles, “but what did Santa bring?” he says, tickling Andy and eliciting the broken, childish laughter I love so much.
“I don’t think Santa knows where Merit, USA is, Dada.”
He shrugs. “Ye of little faith.” He takes my hand. “Come on. Let’s go have a look.”
“Dane…” I protest, more concerned about Andy when this story plays out than myself.
Imagine my surprise then when I find a collection of presents under the tree.
Dane smiles, bouncing Andy up and down in his arms. “See? What did I tell you, little man?” He selects the largest of the presents and lets Andy down, handing it to him. “Looks like this one’s yours.”
We sit down together and help Andy unwrap it. He can barely hold the box it’s so big. It’s a giant toy plane—not foam, but a flashy-looking jet complete with miniature pilot.
Andy looks to Dane dumbfounded. He looks to me in turn, almost as if he’s waiting permission, for somebody to come and snatch it away.
I wipe away tears, smiling at Dane. “It’s all yours, Andy.”
Dane points to the box. “It says ages four and up, but I figure this guy’s one going on four, anyhow.”
“’Thank you,” I mouth.
Dane fishes under the tree for another present, handing it to me. “You didn’t think Santa would forget you now, did you?”
I watch him sideways with suspicion as I open the present. Shirtless under the tree, that fine, fine body on show, I’ve got all the Christmas magic I need.
I open the box. It’s a new pair of ice skates, blue and fancy and absolutely beautiful. “How much did these cost, Dane?”
“A lot less than this house, that’s for sure,” he laughs, “but you’re worth it. You both are.”
The gifts don’t stop there. It turns out Dane was quite busy during his sabbatical. From the looks of things, he visited every shop in town. By the time we’re done Andy is surrounded by new toys and the cutest little set of ice skates I’ve ever seen. I’ve got a tidy stack of my own, excluding the ring around my finger I can’t stop looking at, but there are no presents for Dane.
“What about you?” I ask. “I didn’t—”
He reaches under the tree for a present I didn’t notice. “Oh, yes, you did,” he smiles, showing me the tag. It reads: ‘From Santa, To Dane.’
He takes hold of the box, getting Andy to help him tear and rip it open. He feigns mock surprise, looking down to Andy. “Well, will you look at that—a new pair of hockey skates from Santa. I guess we’ll be hitting the ice a lot more from now on, family outings and all that.”
“But I,” I tell him, “I didn’t get you anything.”
He leans over to whisper in my ear.
Talk about an indecent proposal.
I blush as he withdraws. “We’ll see, Santa.”
*
Andy forgoes his morning nap given the general air of excitement in the house. It’s been a long time since I felt anything but despair here, but with Dane everything has changed. There’s joy and hope, a naughty, spontaneous streak I didn’t even know I was missing. I know it’s the start of something special, for all of us, the start of a bright and happy future.
Lunch time arrives as a light snow starts to fall outside, only the crackling fire in the living room to keep us company as Dane and I fix Christmas lunch.
Most stores in town were closed, but we managed to procure a couple of rations, Mrs. Ainsworth next door supplying a spare ham after Dane offered to pay her handsomely for her inconvenience. “You can’t pay your way out of everything,” I told him, arm in arm as we walked back next door.
He stopped and faced me. “No, but I can sure as hell try.”
We set the table and help Andy into his seat, laying out probably the strangest Christmas lunch ever—Oreos instead of apples, TV dinners instead of a turkey, ketchup, but none of us care. We’re too busy having fun, the meal descending into a food fight when Andy decides he’s had enough of his drumstick.
Dane and I clean up the kitchen once Andy is down, Dane pausing to dab away something on my nose. “I’m really hoping that’s gravy.”
I look down at him, random bits of cookie and mashed potatoes stuck to his chest. “You’re looking a little dirty yourself there, Santa.”
“Do you know why’s Santa’s sack is so big?” Dane queries.
“No,” I reply, playing along.
“Because he only comes once a year.”
I shake my head. “If that’s the caliber of humor you’ll be swinging around here, I think we’re in trouble.”
He laughs. “The real question is, Haley Carr, have you been naughty or nice this year?”
“Until you arrived?”
He reels back. “You’re saying I’ve corrupted you?”
My hand magically finds its way down his pants. “Well, you did provide me with my first Ho Ho ‘O.’”
Now it’s Dane’s turn to shake his head, as distracting as my fingers curling around his penis are. He cups his ear, leaning in. “What were you saying about humor now?”
“I’m saying we take this funny business upstairs and make this a truly unforgettable Christmas. Andy’s not the only one with toys, you know,” I wink.
Dane looks shocked. “And just when I think I know you.”