Chapter 28
Cal
When the clock strikes nine, Tina rises from the sofa, slipping on her new gloves and looping the scarf around her neck.
“You’re leaving?” Elle asks from her spot beside me.
“I have a date,” Tina says, casual but clearly pleased. “Vince is picking me up in an hour. That gives me just enough time to go home to freshen up.”
Elle glances at me, but I’m already watching Nate. His jaw clenches like he’s chewing rocks. Yeah, this definitely bothers him.
Tina makes her way around the room, handing out hugs and thanking Mom and Dad for hosting. “I love these,” she says, fluffing the scarf around her neck. “So soft and warm. Honestly, I feel like a glamorous extra in a Christmas movie.”
Mom grins. “Not an extra, sweetie, the main star.”
“Thank you!” Tina beams, giving everyone a playful twirl.
Nate’s gaze follows her as she walks past, offering him a cursory goodnight.
He follows her to the door, and when he opens it, they pause—glancing at each other like neither one knows how to part.
“Look!” Beth exclaims. “It’s mistletoe!”
I glance at Elle, who’s glancing back at me, wide-eyed.
The room falls quiet, except for Hannah, still happily opening gifts with a whole stack left to go. She’s completely oblivious to the scene unfolding right in front of us.
“Kiss her, Nate!” Thomas calls out in his deep voice. “If you don’t, I will.”
That earns a round of laughter.
Nate drags a hand through his hair.
Tina just stands there, smirking, making no move to leave. She’s waiting on him.
We wait. And wait. It feels like an eternity.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake!” Tina finally says, and then reaches for Nate.
She grabs him by the front of his shirt, her fingers curling into the fabric, pulling him toward her. When her hand slides to the back of his neck, Nate’s face goes from shock to something else, and then he pulls her in and kisses her.
Tina doesn't push him away. Instead, she leans into him, deepening the kiss.
I look away, but from the burst of excitement in the room, it’s clear there’s a full-on lip lock in progress.
“I guess we didn’t need the pantry after all,” Elle whispers with a soft giggle.
A low whistle comes from Seth's direction, followed by a “Way to go,” from Thomas.
“Well, isn’t that sweet,” Mom says.
Dad just smiles, a knowing look in his eyes.
I glance at Elle, nestled warmly beside me, and press a light kiss to her lips.
Finally, Tina breaks it off with a little sigh. “Merry Christmas to me,” she says, a teasing smile on her face.
Then I catch Nate leaning in, whispering, “Are you still going on that date?”
“What I’ve got planned tonight is a full-blown rom-com, bells and whistles included,” Tina says, not breaking eye contact. “This”—she gestures between the two of them—“this was just a commercial.”
“Ouch,” I murmur. “That’s gotta sting.”
Next to me, Elle is clearly fighting the urge to laugh.
***
The fire’s already crackling when Elle knocks on the door at eight in the morning. The scent of pine and cinnamon lingers in the air.
Beneath our Christmas tree sit six gifts waiting to be unwrapped.
One of them is a huge box holding the build-your-own dollhouse kit Hannah and I will tackle together.
From the roof to the tiniest piece of furniture, it’s a project that’ll take weeks to finish, but it’s one I’m most excited to share with my daughter.
The smallest gift is tucked inside a box within a box. Elle has no idea that all my hopes and dreams for our future are nestled inside that small velvet box.
I open the door and let my gaze sweep over her.
She takes my breath away. There’s something about seeing her like this—soft, warm, mine.
Her hair is loosely braided over one shoulder.
Beneath her wool coat, she’s wearing the pajama set that matches mine and Hannah’s, and those fluffy slippers Mom gave her last night.
“Good morning,” she says, shooting me a wide smile.
“Good morning,” I reply, reaching for her. I wrap my arms around her and breathe in the scent of her hair.
“Wait!” she exclaims, reaching inside her coat pocket. She pulls out a ribbon-tied mistletoe and holds it over our heads.
“Now can I kiss you?” I ask, pulling her close.
She closes her eyes and tilts her head, inviting me to kiss her.
I do. A slow, all-consuming kiss that leaves both of us dazed.
“Want some coffee?” I ask, my voice husky with longing.
Humming to herself, Elle walks into the kitchen and pours coffee into the mugs we bought at the holiday market last weekend. Hers says Let it Snow, mine says Bah Humbrew.
We’re both gazing at each other when we hear Hannah stampeding down the stairs, clutching her favorite fleece blanket. She lunges onto the couch, her eyes sparkling with barely contained excitement.
“Can we open gifts now?” she asks, bouncing once, then trying to play it cool.
I laugh. “I thought you’d never ask.”
We all sit on the plush carpet, close enough to the fireplace to feel its warmth touching our skin.
Elle hands me a box wrapped in festive Christmas paper, the kind with tiny cardinals perched on snowy branches.
A wide satin ribbon is tied around it, the bow perfectly centered on top.
Right underneath the bow, tightly tied with ribbon is a smooth wooden ruler, the craftsmanship obvious even at a glance.
My fingers graze the wood and I immediately notice the words engraved on it, Measure Twice. Love Once.
Something tight pulls in my chest. I lean over and kiss Elle, "I love it," I say, before moving on to the box.
I untie the ribbon carefully and lift the lid. Inside, nestled in soft black tissue, is a leather apron unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Dark walnut brown, buttery soft to the touch, with gleaming brass hardware and the faint scent of new leather.
It’s perfect. Every stitch.
I run my fingers over the subtle initials pressed into the chest: JRC.
Elle straightens beside me, watching. “Check the inside,” she says softly.
I flip the apron and spot a tiny leather patch in a lighter shade, sewn just beneath one of the interior pockets. Burned into it are the words:
The best thing you ever built is us.
I can’t speak. I just stare at her. My jaw works as my heart does that stupid swelling thing it does whenever I realize, again, that somehow, she’s mine.
“Do you like it?” she whispers.
“I love it,” I manage. “I love you.”
Hannah wriggles beside me with a grin and hands me a large, flat, gift-wrapped object. “Okay, my turn. Open it!”
She practically vibrates with pride as I tear back the paper.
It’s a sketch—framed, detailed, and done in pencil.
My workshop, down to the grainy texture of the floorboards.
But next to my bench and clamps and lumber stacks, there’s her play corner.
All the books stacked in her crate, coloring pencils lined up on her desk next to some drawings.
Her name is scrawled above it on the wall, penciled in block letters with a heart beside it.
I swallow the lump rising in my throat as I read the hand-written note tucked inside the frame on the bottom of the sketch.
You’re the best daddy. Thank you for helping me with my homework. I like it when you take me to the park. You showed me how to use a hammer. And you buy me whatever I want at the farmers market. Thank you for Elle. Love, Hannah.
I pull Hannah into my arms and hug her tight, nose pressed to the crown of her head.
“I love you, Hannah Banana. This is the best gift ever!”
She giggles. “Really, Daddy?”
“I'm so lucky to be your dad,” I murmur, my voice catching in my throat.
Elle smiles and picks up a gift from under the tree and hands it to Hannah. "It's your turn, Sweetie!"
Hannah takes the box and shakes it. "What is it?!" she exclaims.
"You'll never guess," Elle chimes in, her hands clasped together in anticipation.
Hannah rips away the wrapping paper, her excitement palpable as she opens the box. She reaches inside and pulls out a bright pink helmet, her name glittering in silver on the side.
“A bike helmet!” she exclaims, her eyes wide with excitement—until a frown crosses her face. “But I outgrew my bike.”
Elle glances at me, and I shoot her a quick wink.
“I know,” Elle says with a smile. “This is the helmet you’ll wear on your new bike!”
Hannah looks at me, her confusion still evident. “Daddy?”
I nod, grinning, already getting to my feet. “Wait right here.”
I dash toward the kitchen door that leads to the garage and return a moment later, pushing Hannah’s brand-new bike, a huge red bow tied neatly on the handlebars.
Hannah’s hands fly to her mouth, her eyes wide with disbelief, but she can’t suppress the excited shriek that escapes her lips.
“Thank you!” she screams, launching herself into Elle’s arms, sending both of them tumbling onto the rug. Elle holds her tightly, tears shining in her eyes.
I help Hannah climb onto the seat, and she grips the handlebars, her face set in concentration as she pretends she's flying down the road.
"And we have another surprise," I say. "Elle and I got matching bikes so we can all go riding together."
Hannah laughs. "Matching pajamas and matching bikes too! Yeah!"
We watch her admire her new bike and helmet for a few minutes. She grips the handlebars, practicing how to climb on and off, then drops and lifts the kickstand a few times, getting the hang of it.
"Can I give Elle her gift?" she asks, her eyes bright with anticipation.
"How about she opens your gift," I suggest, "and then you open your last one?"
"Ooh," she coos, her eyes lighting up as they fall on the big, heavy box next to the tree. "Is that big gift for me?"
"Maybe," I say. "You'll have to wait and see."
She walks over to the tree and picks up a small gift and hands it to Elle.
"Thank you, sweetie," Elle says holding the box to her chest. "I love it already. Whatever it is."
"Open it!" Hannah says, clapping her hands in sheer excitement.