Chapter 18
Nash
Iwake up feeling squished. There’s a knee in my back and a tiny arm slung over my shoulder.
It takes me a second to remember where I am.
I look down and see Emma sprawled out sideways between Caleb and me, the blankets pulled up over her, and she’s snoring softly.
I look over her to find Caleb’s already awake, watching me behind his glasses with the kind of look that’s equal parts affection and amusement.
“She came in sometime after midnight,” he whispers. “Said she had a bad dream, and I figured it was fine since you told me this might happen, so I didn’t wake you.”
I nod, smiling at him. It’s comforting to know he’s naturally good with my kids and thoughtful, even when half asleep. Not everyone would’ve known how to handle that situation.
“Well, she’s got great timing,” I murmur, glancing down at her sleeping between us. “And I mean that literally. So glad we were clothed and asleep.”
Caleb laughs under his breath, careful not to wake her. “Yeah, I had that same moment of panic.”
I shake my head and look over at him. “You handled it perfectly,” I say quietly. “If she didn’t beg for me, she already trusts you, and that’s huge. Thank you, Cay.”
His eyes soften, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt something hit me quite like that look. This right here—him in bed with me, talking quietly while my daughter sleeps between us—looks a lot like the future I’ve dreamed of.
We just smile at each other for a moment until Emma shifts again, rolling closer into Caleb’s side, her tiny fingers gripping his arm. It’s absolutely adorable, and Caleb doesn’t seem to mind… because he’s perfect.
“She’s still out,” he whispers, looking down at her.
“Thanks for being such an awesome dad, even with my kids.”
“Of course, you all make it easy.” He grins.
It’s quiet for just a second before we hear loud footsteps barreling down the hallway and Sam and Benji bust into the room.
“Dad! We’re hungry!” they both say in unison.
And now Emma is awake.
Caleb lets out a soft laugh as Emma stirs between us, blinking sleepily. “Perfect timing,” I say, brushing a piece of hair out of her face. “Hey, Em. You want pancakes?”
She nods groggily, then climbs out of bed.
We both get up and throw on T-shirts and pajama pants, and Emma immediately reaches for my hand.
I take it without hesitation, and then she reaches for Caleb to take her other one.
He does, and the sight of them together—her small fingers curled around his—makes me feel all gooey inside knowing she finds comfort in his presence.
“Come on, chefs,” I say, leading the way to the kitchen. “Let’s make breakfast. I brought stuff for pancakes and bacon.”
“Yes!” Benji cheers, pulling the fridge door open to grab the bacon.
The kitchen turns into a happy kind of chaos as Benji and Sam measure the ingredients for the pancakes, which is just the mix and water, but they’ve managed to turn it into a two-man job. I make coffee for Caleb and me while he helps Emma wash the blueberries. Then I put the bacon in the oven.
“Bacon in the oven, huh?” Caleb asks, eyeing me suspiciously.
“It’s so much easier, trust me. It cooks more evenly, and you don’t have scorching hot grease splatters all over the kitchen. And, most importantly, no risk of the kids getting burned that way.”
“You make good points, as usual,” he says with a smile. “I’ll have to try that next time.”
“Batter’s ready,” Benji calls out.
“Alright, time for a tester pancake,” I announce. “It’s the most important one.”
“Dad always does this,” Emma tells Sam, and it’s adorable that she wants him to feel included.
After the tester is good, we start on the real pancakes.
Caleb is flipping them while I pick Emma up to drop the blueberries in the circles of batter as they sizzle.
He’s steady and patient, murmuring “Perfect, Em” each time she has the right amount.
She beams at this praise, and I swear I feel it in my chest.
When the food is done, all five of us sit at the table, eating blueberry pancakes and bacon. As I eat, I take it all in—our kids, Caleb, the way none of it feels like something I have to manage, but something I get to enjoy.
Caleb catches my eye across the table. “What?” he asks, his brow quirking.
“Nothing.” I smile. “This is nice. I’m happy.”
His smile creeps across his face, and I can tell how much he’s feeling it too. “Me too, and the bacon is good. I think you sold me on cooking it in the oven.”
“I had a feeling I would.”
Once breakfast is over and everything’s cleaned up, we pack up from the night, load the cars, and head back to the mountain for more skiing.
By midday, we decide to call it quits and head back home. The kids are worn out from the morning and have somehow managed to turn who fell the hardest into a competition.
Meanwhile, I’m already missing Caleb, and we haven’t even gotten into our cars yet to go our separate ways. My gut twists at the thought of saying another goodbye. I want one more night, one more morning, even if I’m already sure one more will never be enough.
As we start taking our gear off, I turn to him. “I’m glad this worked out. I know it was last minute, but this was another perfect weekend with you.”
He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t have missed it. Thank you for planning this and including us.”
“You’re the reason I planned this, Cay,” I assure him, and his cheeks darken.
When we’re finally out of our layers and ready to leave, he turns to face me. I want to kiss him again, but since we aren’t there yet with the kids around, I settle for the next best thing and pull him forward into me.
“I’ll text you when we’re back,” I murmur in his ear, quickly pressing a discreet kiss to his cheek.
He nods. “Please do.”
My chest tightens as I watch him walk away from me to get into his car. I pull out of the parking lot first, and he follows right behind me, as we once again make our way back to reality.
I’m trying to shift my brain back into regular parent mode, but my fingers are still tingling from where they touched him, and I catch myself replaying last night and our conversations.
I hate that Caleb has had to hide so much of himself in this life, and I know there’s more he hasn’t said, but I don’t want to rush him.
Things were so different for me. I was in college when I hooked up with Brock, a guy from my communications class.
There’d been some growing tension between us, and one night when we were drunk, I went back to his apartment with him, and we hooked up.
I liked it enough that we did it a few more times, too.
And I was lucky, really lucky, because when I came out, I was met with nothing but love.
I told my parents I was bi over Christmas break that year, and my mom hugged me, and my dad told me I was still the same person, just with more options.
I had a feeling they’d be that way, which is why I knew I’d be okay sharing that part of me with them even though I was still nervous at the time.
When I went back to school for the spring semester that year, I met Tess, and we’d become inseparable. I told her about Brock, so there were no secrets between us, and she was completely cool with it too.
My sexuality has never been a secret for me because it didn’t have to be, and I’m well aware not everyone is that lucky.
Knowing Caleb didn’t have that same support makes me so angry.
No one should have to feel unsafe in their own skin for loving who they love.
And if I can be someone who makes it even a little easier for him to breathe, to exist, to explore…
then I want to be that person. I want to walk beside him while he finds the version of himself that feels most like home. I just hope that version includes me.
“Dad! Look!” Benji shouts, breaking through my thoughts. I notice a hand-painted wooden sign staked into a snowbank.
Cut-Your-Own Tree Lot. Five Miles Ahead.
I glance in the rearview mirror at the kids, who are looking at me excitedly.
“You want to cut down our Christmas tree here?” I ask, knowing the answer.
“I want to!” Benji shouts.
“Me too!” Emma piggybacks.
“Perfect, let’s do it! Thanks for pointing that out, bud. Let me make a quick call to see if Caleb and Sam want to join us.”
I tap Caleb’s name on the car screen in front of me and hit the call button. It rings once before I hear his perfect voice.
“Hey,” he says. “Everything okay?”
“How would you feel about going with us to cut down a Christmas tree? We just passed a sign for one five miles down the road.”
“I wanna go! Please, Dad!” I hear Sam say, followed by Caleb’s laugh, knowing his phone must be on speaker too.
“Yeah, it sounds like we’ll meet you there,” he confirms in a warm tone.
“Can’t wait, see you in a few minutes,” I say eagerly.
Before I went rogue and booked the cabin, the plan had been to get our Christmas tree this weekend—drive out, find the perfect one, cut it down, then head home to decorate it with the Emma-approved Christmas playlist. I figured they’d be bummed when I told them we were delaying it, but there were no complaints when I surprised them with the trip, which is why it feels like the perfect way to end the weekend.
We’ll stop for a tree, bring it home, string up the lights, and maybe—if I’m lucky—I can convince Caleb and Sam to decorate with us too.
I love it when a sporadic plan falls into place.
I glance back at the kids as I pull into the small gravel lot. There are more hand-painted signs and rows of Christmas trees dusted in snow. The kids perk up the second we park, and I help Emma get out. A minute later, Caleb pulls up beside us and steps out, his hair still messy from his helmet.
“Glad you wanted to do this with us,” I say as he approaches.
“Anything for more time with you,” he whispers before raising his voice. “Sam was clearly excited.”
“We’ve never done this,” Sam adds on, making his way toward where Benji is starting to take off toward the trees.
“Hey, Benj, let’s go check in first.”
He sighs, as expected, but follows us over to the small check-in booth with Emma and Sam. It’s a little red shack with string lights, a chalkboard menu offering hot chocolate, cider, and mini donuts, with a couple of bundled-up teenagers sitting nearly on top of the propane space heater.
“Are you here for cut-your-own?” the girl asks as we approach.
“Yep.” I nod, and she hands us a saw, a tree tag, and points toward the open rows.
“Great! Just pick your tree, cut it down, and bring it back here. We’ll wrap it up for you. And don’t forget to grab cocoa when you’re done.”
Caleb raises an eyebrow at me as we walk away, saw in hand. “Definitely going to need cocoa after this.”
“I can make that happen.” I chuckle and glance over at him. “So, do you still need a tree, or are you just helping us pick out ours?”
“Don’t judge,” he says. “But we’ve had a fake one up since November first.”
I raise an eyebrow, glancing over at him. “Wow. So you’re that house, huh?”
“Hey”—he nudges my shoulder as he walks beside me—“we like to celebrate early. It’s our favorite time of the year. Besides, like I told you, it’s just the two of us, so we decide when it feels like the right time, and it’s usually the day after Halloween.”
“I love that you have your own routines and traditions,” I assure him as we turn down another row, Emma skipping ahead with Sam and Benji.
“Dad, what about this one?” Benji yells.
Sam points toward a different tree nearby. “This one’s better! It’s way fuller.”
“Only because you can’t see the back,” Benji calls back.
“Okay, okay.” I laugh, holding up my hands. “We’ll inspect them all.”
Emma tugs on Caleb’s hand. “Caleb, should we get a tall one or a chubby one?”
My heart melts at how much she seems to be enjoying Caleb’s presence. She’s a pretty outgoing girl, but she’s really taking a liking to Caleb, just like I have.
He crouches down to her level, pretending to consider very seriously. “Hmm. I think the fuller ones give better hugs. But tall ones make good climbing trees.”
She gasps. “We can’t climb the Christmas tree!”
“See? That’s why a wide one might be better, if you have space for it in your house, that is.”
She giggles, and I glance over just in time to catch the smile Caleb gives her, which is full of so much adoration.
“Dad!” Benji calls again. “We need a vote! Come see this one!”
“Duty calls,” I say, making my way toward the next contender.
Caleb and Emma’s shoes crunch in the snow behind me, and by the time we catch up, Benji is standing proudly beside a tree that’s just a little taller than him, full on all sides.
“This one,” he says confidently.
“I like it,” Caleb agrees, running a hand along the needles.
Emma nods solemnly. “It looks like a tree that would like our ornaments.”
Sam walks a slow circle around it, arms crossed, inspecting it. “I vote yes.”
I take a few steps back to see it from all angles. It’s not perfect, but it’s exactly right. “Alright,” I nod. “This one’s coming home with us.”
Caleb hands me the saw and helps hold the tree while I saw the base. The kids all cheer when it falls over, and I drag it through the snow to the counter we checked in at to pay. There are a couple of guys who help net the tree before Caleb and I tie it to the roof of my car.
“We’ve got cocoa and cider if you want to warm up,” the girl reminds us.
“Can we get some? Please?” Benji begs, and I give them a nod. They all take off toward the shop, and ten minutes later, we’re all seated around a fire pit with warm paper cups in our hands, talking and laughing.
The perfect end to the perfect weekend.