Epilogue
Nico
This year, Pax and I decided that we would hold off on our own personal Christmas until after his family left.
We went back and forth on whether we should have it earlier or later, and I opted to have it between Christmas and New Year’s.
It felt like a final hurrah before we reopened.
The bookings for this year were already solid.
It was going to be a lot of go, go, go once January hit.
I was glad to have this time together. Even though he was working, his job was so much less stressful than it had been when he was in the office. Without people constantly coming to his desk asking questions, he was able to get most of it done in record time.
Looking back, I could see where Pax got some of his daddy traits because she was…
something. I loved her, but I did not want to get on her bad side.
Twice, she mentioned how his brother wasn’t there one Christmas.
Surprisingly, she never mentioned that Pax and I weren’t there last Christmas, so I took that as a sign I was fully accepted.
Either that, or Pax told her she better not say a word about it.
Pax and I had invested in snowshoes for the resort, and his family and I spent a lot of time snowshoeing on Christmas afternoon.
It was fun exploring the land that way. His father knew a lot about the different trees and wildlife, so when we saw a footprint or scat, he was quick to tell us everything we could ever want to know about it.
As great as it was to see them come, seeing them go was just as sweet.
Tomorrow, we were celebrating our Christmas, just the two of us. Today was for cleaning. They didn’t leave a mess, but they also didn’t put everything back where it belonged.
We kept my favorite room locked for the duration of their stay. When my brother-in-law asked what we used it for, we called it the storage room for retreat supplies. A lie. It was my little room, the one Daddy paid for me this fall.
I had been so surprised when he put it at the top of our list because we already had a to-do list a thousand miles long. He insisted that after he saw me in the little room, he knew I needed one for myself, and he was right. What a difference having that space made.
I went in there just to relax or to play with Daddy, and he even set up a small table so I could eat my chicken nuggies there while watching cartoons with the wall projector he installed.
And, of course, there was lots of coloring and a bulletin board that held it all.
We were at the point now where every time a new piece went up, an old one had to come down, but Daddy found really cool frames where he could stack the pictures, so they could be swapped out as needed. Problem solved.
“Okay, out.” Daddy stood in the entrance of my little room, his finger pointing toward the hallway.
“Why, Daddy?”
“Because you’re just airing the place out, and I have things to do in here—things that a little boy the day before Christmas should not be seeing.”
I left, pretending to be grumbly about it. I loved surprises, and the time from knowing that one was coming to the time I got it, was the best feeling.
“Fine. I’m going into the woodshed to stack the wood we just had delivered.” It came right before his family did and was still waiting to be moved.
“I can do that,” he said.
“Surprises are more important.” I walked out, loving the sound of his soft chuckle.
The next morning was Christmas, though I wouldn’t exactly call the time I woke up “morning.” It was 4:30 a.m., and I was wide awake.
“Daddy’s sleeping,” I whispered to Oscar.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t trying to wake him up a little bit.
I knew he worked hard, and we should go back to sleep, but Christmas.
His arms snaked around me and pulled me to him. “You can wake up with the sun.”
“The sun? It doesn’t get light here until 7:30 now. Maybe 8:00. No way!”
“Does my sweet boy want his Christmas surprise?”
And that right there was the winning argument.
I bobbed my head up and down very fast.
“Fine, then back to sleep,” Daddy said. I circled back into his embrace and closed my eyes, thinking I’d never fall asleep. How wrong I was.
I woke again when Daddy was pulling his arm pillow out from under me. The sunlight was gleaming into the room. “I’m going to take a shower and start a tubby for you.”
My surprise was going to take forever, but also…tubby, so I didn’t complain too much. When he came back to get me, the tub was filled, and there was a green-and-red bath bomb on the side of it.
I looked down at my ring he’d hidden in one, loving it so much.
We had talked about getting married a few times and decided we would at some point, but more for his family’s sake because, to them, it was really important.
To us, we already had a business together, a home together, a life together.
We were committed. Marriage between us wasn’t even legal when we were growing up, and part of that put a slight bad taste in our mouths.
But there was also the side where it gave us this edge, to be like, “See? You can’t keep us down. ” So that’s where we left it.
I got ready for the tub and knelt in front of it, the bath bomb in my hand. “It’s huge, Daddy!”
“It’s a special one. For Christmas.”
“Can I?”
“Let’s count down.”
“Ten, nine, eight…” Daddy was taking too long.
“Three-two-one!” I said in rapid succession and tossed it in.
There wasn’t much “bomb” to the bath bomb.
The capsule inside was pretty big, and when Daddy cracked it open for me, out came a dragon dressed in a Santa suit.
A Christmas dragon. I didn’t play with any of my other toys that tubby.
Instead, dragons swooped and swam with the dolphins, like the story Daddy told me. The dolphins being my toes.
When I first heard that a bath was the beginning of the day, my intention was to go really fast and get it done so I could see my surprise. But I ended up having so much fun that I only left when Daddy insisted, telling me cold water and wrinkled skin weren’t good for me.
I worried he was going to make me eat breakfast first. Instead, he put me in the Christmas jammies that matched his. Sort of. Same pattern but mine had feet on them and were very little, and his were a normal button-down and pants. We looked adorable.
“Let’s go see your surprise. Last year, I didn’t get you any presents, so, this year, Daddy may have gone overboard.”
I stopped right there and looked up. “Daddy, last year you gave me the best Christmas present ever. You were here.” I made a growly face, or I thought I did. His smile, and his attempt to hold in his laughter, told me I’d missed my mark.
“Merry Christmas.” He opened the door.
I walked inside. He’d strung Christmas tree lights around the ceiling, sparkling red and green. A medium-sized Christmas tree stood in the corner by the table, but none of that was the surprise, not even the present underneath it.
In the far corner, there was a castle that we could both climb inside. It was a cross between a tent and a play structure, and it looked like he built it himself out of parts from both.
“You made that just for me?”
“I did. It was hard sneaking around and then being able to finally piece it together yesterday. Go inside. Check it out.”
I crawled over and into it to find a huge stuffed dragon with the same opalescent teal scales as the dragon in the book. The same pendant, the same violet eyes. My dragon. I reached out a hand to his side, wondering how it would feel. It wasn’t prickly at all but smooth. He was perfect.
“Where did you find him?”
“Daddy found someone to make it for you. And look what’s in front of him.”
On the floor lay a book: Nico’s Dragon Tales. I plopped down criss-cross applesauce, put it on my lap, and opened it up. There were illustrations and stories, but these weren’t just any stories. These were the ones Daddy had told me, the first one about the carnival.
I set the book to the side and pulled Daddy down so he was in my lap, holding him close, tears flowing from my eyes.
“I love everything about my surprise. This…this was the place I’d never imagined.
I don’t know how you did all this, but thank you.
Thank you for the stories. Thank you for making sure I never forget them.
Thank you for seeing me, for loving me, for being there for me. I love you, Daddy. Merry Christmas.”
“It’s me who should be thanking you, Nico. You made my life worth living, not just going through the motions. Merry Christmas.”
My stomach grumbled. Traitor.
“Sounds like it’s time to eat. You can play with your toys later.”
“But, Daddy…”
“No buts,” he said, taking my hand and pulling me up. “Remember, I said I have rules, and one of them is making sure you’re eating healthful food.”
Thankfully, “healthful” on Christmas morning was Christmas-tree-shaped waffles with lots and lots of whipped cream.
Best. Daddy. Ever.