Chapter 24
twenty-four
MAYA
Poppy insists we all camp out in Liam’s room for the night, since it’s where the fireplace is. She swears she’s not going to sleep, insistent on catching Santa as he exits the chimney. I actually love how skeptical she is.
“Where does his magic come from?”
“What happens if there’s a fire in the chimney?”
“How does he decide where to go first?”
And my favorite: “What if he doesn’t like Daddy’s cookies?”
“Everyone likes your dad’s cookies,” I say, snapping another selfie of the three of us in our matching pajamas.
Poppy grabs my hand, then Liam’s, ushering us into his room so we don’t miss anything. Then she steals a pillow off of the bed and plants herself on the floor, directly in front of the hearth.
“Angel, come lay in bed.”
“But—”
“What if you trip Santa and he breaks his neck? How will you explain that to all the other kids?”
I glance at Liam, impressed and a little shocked by his words.
“Okay, fine. But I’m not sleeping.”
Poppy jumps into bed, her gaze pinned to the fireplace, eyes wide as dinner plates.
She instructs Liam to lay in the middle and to wake her up right away if she falls asleep. Then I’m told to wake Liam if he falls asleep. She has really thought this through.
Tucking myself into Liam’s bed feels anything but awkward now. Even after spending a week in here with the flu, it’s become my favorite place in the house.
He and I face each other, grinning at each sound that comes from his daughter. She’s fighting sleep so hard that she keeps murmuring a little pep-talk to herself. A few minutes later, it’s turned to snores.
“Are you tired?” Liam asks.
“A little. But I’m gonna stay up so I can text Ellie at midnight.” I check the phone in my hand again, finding the time of nine after eleven. Just fifty-one minutes to go.
When Ellie first moved to California, she told me how special her birthday was. It took a year or two to get all the details, but eventually she opened up about Theo—the nameless boy from her childhood that made every day magical, but especially her birthday.
Not having any major Christmas traditions myself, I vowed to keep her birthday magic alive. We went ice skating in Union Square every Christmas Eve, no matter how warm it might have been in San Francisco. And we’d stay up till midnight, usually watching movies and baking as many sweet treats as we could think of. We even attempted homemade jelly doughnuts the year that Hanukkah fell on her birthday. We lost our security deposit that night.
Ellie’s birthday made me fall in love with Christmas, made me realize what I’d missed growing up in hotels around the world. Because fancy parties can be fun, but what’s better than baking brownies at midnight with someone you love?
Now that she has Theo back in her life, she doesn’t need me to celebrate, but it feels wrong not to wish her a happy birthday at midnight, even if the ritual is just for me.
“Her birthday’s tomorrow? How did I not know that?” Liam asks.
“Yeah. I can’t believe we’re about to enter our thirties. Ughhh,” I groan.
He laughs. “Babies.”
“How old are you?” I ask.
“How old do you think I am?”
“Seventy-three?”
“Shut up.”
“Wow, older? Eighty-one?”
“I’m thirty-six, smart ass.”
“Basically a grandpa.”
“Don’t even joke about that. Not after I got hit with the boyfriend today.”
“Oh, I’m sure Poppy’s being safe?—”
“ Maya ,” he pleads, a vein popping out of his forehead.
“Sorry, sorry. It’s just so easy to mess with you.”
He rolls onto his back and presses a hand to his chest. “Mess with me all you like, just don’t give me a heart attack.”
“I apologize. I should be more sensitive with your old age.” He ignores me, shaking his head. “So when’s your birthday?”
He closes his eyes, sighs a bit more dramatically than the moment calls for. “Today.”
“What?” I whisper-shout, trying not to wake up Poppy.
“It’s not a big deal. I don’t care about that stuff, and it’s?—”
“Does Poppy know?”
“I’m pretty sure she thinks dads don’t have birthdays.”
I gasp. “Liam!”
“What? It doesn’t matter. I never really did anything for my birthday so why start now?”
I catch his gaze, trying to determine what he isn’t saying. “Do you mean you didn’t even celebrate it as a kid?”
He sighs again, this time in defeat. “I did when I was really young, I think. I have memories of my dad taking me to the arcade. But when my mom remarried and I had a new sister, they were more concerned with Christmas and keeping Kennedy happy. She was the sweet little girl who lost her mom and I was just the kid always getting into trouble. I’d get cards sometimes.”
“That’s really shitty.” God knows I didn’t have a perfect childhood, but my parents always celebrated my birthday. It was usually a fancy dinner with all adults, but it was acknowledged. Poor Liam.
“Stop with the puppy dog eyes. It’s just a birthday. I don’t care.”
Liar.
“Happy birthday, Liam.” I lean over and kiss his cheek. “Take my advice, and don’t make a wish.”
He laughs, but his smile softens quickly, his eyes glittering in the almost dark of the room. “I don’t think there’s much I could wish for that I don’t already have right here.”
My mouth goes dry remembering the last time we were truly alone. Before I got sick and then had to join my father in London, before Poppy decided to stick to me like velcro. I want to be alone with Liam, to see what other memories he can coax out of me. From the heat darkening his eyes, I think he feels the same.
I lick my lips, lean in, remember Poppy and roll onto my back. What the hell am I thinking?
He laughs again and I wonder if this man can read my mind. He turns on his side, propped up on his elbow to face me. “So, when’s your birthday?”
“Oh, it’s…men don’t like my birthday. Since I had no notice for yours, can we just forget about mine this year too?”
He quirks a brow. “Men don’t like your birthday? What the hell does that mean?”
“It’s February nineteenth, right after Valentine’s Day. Apparently it’s too much pressure.” I cringe at my own words, but it’s true. Greg said I had to pick one. He couldn’t be expected to go all out for both in one week. It was just “too much for a guy.” Now I realize it was juggling the extra girlfriend that was too much. Loser.
“I love it.”
Liam loves it? What kind of response is that?
“Come here,” he murmurs, pulling me into a tight snug. He kisses me gently right behind my ear. “I think we should make a whole week of it. We’ll call it Maya’s Valentine birthday chocolate fest. I’ll start menu planning tomorrow.”
My eyes wake to two green saucers staring back at me.
I blink away the last remnants of sleep to find Poppy next to me in bed.
What is it with this room? I’m always waking up to someone different than I fell asleep with.
Liam and I stayed up half the night talking about nonsense and chocolate desserts. After I texted Ellie at midnight, he got up to create the full illusion for Poppy. Cookie crumbs on the counter, boot prints next to the hearth, endless gifts scattered around the tree in the living room. He admitted he was willing to do anything to keep her believing.
“I missed Santa,” Poppy whispers across from me. The tone of defeat has me feeling guilty for going along with Liam’s trickery. My parents never tried to pretend Santa was real. My dad’s Jewish and my mom liked getting credit for all the lavish gifts she picked out. “Why didn’t anyone wake me up?”
“I think we all fell asleep, sweetie.”
“Oh.”
“But you know, Santa can only come when the whole house is asleep, right?” I’m not sure where this comes from, but for some reason I feel the need to keep the magic alive for her too.
“Really? Why?”
“Because Santa has magic. He can’t show up when people are awake or there wouldn’t be any mystery. That’s just the rules.”
Poppy mulls this over in her head. I love that at seven she’s already a critical thinker. I can easily imagine her as an adult, sparring with lawyers to negotiate better terms, questioning everything .
“Okay,” she finally responds. “Daddy’s making breakfast. He said I wasn’t allowed to wake you up, but I didn’t, right?”
“Nope, you’re in the clear,” I say through a yawn, stretching my arms out. I grab onto Poppy and pull her in for a cuddle. “What’s he making? Anything good?”
“His breakfast is always good!”
“You’re right. Should we eat or open presents first?”
Poppy wiggles out of my arms and bounces up to her feet. She raises her arms above her head like a pastor at a megachurch. “Presents!”
She jumps down and runs out of the bedroom. To my surprise, I see Penguin and Mr. Milkshake, both curled up in the dog bed like a loving couple. As Poppy continues to scream through the house, they wake and follow her out the door.
“Good morning, beautiful,” Liam greets me when I enter the kitchen. The b-word has me reaching up to tame my hair. I haven’t looked in a mirror yet but I know how tangled and frizzy my curls get throughout the night.
“It smells amazing in here. What’d you make?”
“Cre–Hey!” he yells toward Poppy. “Hold your horses.” She’s shaking presents, trying to peek into any wrapped in gift bags.
“Sorry, Daddy.” She picks up Mr. Milkshake and starts to pet him, her angelic expression back in place.
He looks back at me, gives a quick roll of his eyes. “I’ve got crepes with leeks, pancetta and scrambled eggs, eggnog French toast, and a chocolate babka still in the oven. I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate for Hanukkah but I’ve been itching to make one. And I figured I had to have some chocolate for you.” He looks over at Poppy, sitting not so patiently right in front of the tree. “Angel, come eat something. Then we can open all the presents.”
I rush over to the oven to take a peek at the babka. “I can’t remember the last time I had one, but there’s this little spot in Williamsburg that makes?—”
“Sander’s?” Liam asks.
“Yes!”
“Had a pastry chef that used to work there. He taught me all the trade secrets.”
“Wow. Now I’m really excited.”
It takes a few more minutes to drag Poppy away from the tree but we all sit and have breakfast together in our matching pajamas. It’s so perfectly domestic that I have tears in my eyes by the time Liam slices the babka.
And the second we set down our forks, Poppy runs back to the tree yelling, “Presents!” over and over.
Liam and I settle in next to each other on the couch, enjoying the show that is Poppy. Liam might feel like he spoils her, but the girl’s manners are impeccable. After every gift she makes a point to look up and thank Santa thoroughly.
And Liam and I both get monster hugs when she opens ours.
“Nope, that one’s for Maya,” Liam says, reaching out to take the bag out of her hands. He places the gift on my lap. “Merry Christmas.”
“Oh,” I respond dumbfoundedly. “You didn’t have to?—”
“It’s just something small. Open it.”
I pull a book out of the bag. Poppy’s eyes were glued to the gift until she realized it was definitely not for her. She plops back on the floor to draw more with the set of glitter pens I gave her.
I look back down to read the title and raise a brow at Liam. “A cookbook? Your faith in me seems to be misplaced.”
He laughs. “It’s blank. We’ll add recipes as you learn them, so you can have all of your favorites in one place.”
“That’s…” I trail off. Sweet? Perfect? My favorite gift ever?
“Well,” he continues, saving me from word paralysis. “It’s not completely empty.” He opens the book and flips through a few blank pages before landing on the one he was looking for.
I read the title. Maya’s favorite corn cakes (midnight version) . My eyes flick to Liam and find the most delicious grin, dimples on full display. Then I glance down at the recipe, looking for secrets and magic.
“I think I’m going to need more detailed instructions than ‘make the ricotta corn purée.’”
“We’ll practice,” he states simply. Like it’s already been determined. Then he starts flipping pages again, until he lands on one titled Poppy’s Pancakes . The instructions mention which ingredients can or can’t be swapped to keep the recipe blood sugar friendly. I read through the whole page once, twice, loving the little details like Chocolate chips–optional. Measure with your heart and Poppy’s current mood.
“I know you’re not a big cook, but I thought?—”
“You thought right,” I say, cutting him off. “I’m obsessed with this.” I hug the book to my chest, never wanting to let it go. “I got you something too, but?—”
“It’s okay, Maya. I wasn’t expecting anything from you.”
“Well, honestly, that was foolish of you. I just couldn’t get a delivery date until after New Year’s.”
I stand up, still clutching my new cookbook and grab the folder I placed under the tree that got lost in the pile of Poppy’s presents.
“Here,” I say, handing it to Liam.
He flips through the pages, his brow furrowed. “What am I looking at here, Bloom? I’ll admit my reading skills aren’t perfect but I could swear that’s not English.”
“Oh, shit,” I murmur, grabbing the folder back. I glance over at Poppy, an apology ready, but it seems she’s tuned us out in favor of sparkly bunny drawings. Looking through the stack of papers, they’re all in Swedish. How did I miss that? “Sorry, you’re right. It’s Swedish.” I flip through until I finally find the sheet with the image I’m looking for and present it to him.
“Cool. So it’s like a glass?”
“Your glass. I mean…wow I am really bad at this. Let me just start over.” I take the sheet out of his hand and trade him a different one. “This glassmaker in Sweden, he’s incredible. Everything is handmade, one of a kind. So I commissioned him to create a glass for your diner, for the milkshakes! You’ll have a hundred of them in two to three weeks.”
Liam grabs the folder from me and flips through the pages again, stopping when he gets to the design sketches and the image of the final model.
“Each glass will be numbered,” I continue. “So you could even sell some as souvenirs or whatever you want really. I just know how special the milkshakes are to you and pretty much every person who lives in Sugar Valley and?—”
“There’s a poppy on the base.” He points to the sketch of the final design, a single flower circling the stem.
“Of course. They’re for Poppy’s diner, right?”
“Right.” He looks over at Poppy, her face firmly rooted inches away from the coloring book, then back at me. His arm snakes around my legs and he pulls me onto his lap. “Thank you,” he whispers, just a breath away from my lips. “You’re incredible, Maya.”
We stay there, gazes locked for a long moment, the sound of Poppy’s pen filling the space around us. A singular thought fills my head. I never want to leave this house, this home . This magical place that is always filled with delicious scents from Liam’s cooking, and the sparkling trill of Poppy’s laugh. I want to dissolve into this space on his lap, and melt into his family so that I can stay here forever. I fear the second I leave, I’ll somehow never be warm again.
A loud ring breaks the spell and has me sliding off his lap and onto the couch.
“Can I get it?” Poppy yells, already standing. She loves answering Liam’s phone, pretending to be his assistant.
“Sure, angel. It’s on the island.” He leans back against the couch, throws me a crooked grin. I wonder what he’s been thinking about while I’m having full on revelations over here.
“Chef Harley’s phone,” Poppy greets the caller. “Hi, Mrs. Calloway,” she exclaims next, and she really does seem excited about this woman’s call. Liam on the other hand, sighs.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, a whisper so Poppy can’t hear.
“Nothing, she’s just…she’s a very nice person, and also the only other single parent from Poppy’s class. She’s always trying to get together since we’re ‘all alone.’”
“Here, Dad,” Poppy says, handing him the phone. Liam flips it to speaker.
“Hi, Alice. Merry Christmas.”
“Oh, Merry Christmas to you, Liam. I know how difficult this time of year can be. I hope you’re holding up okay.”
Liam rolls his eyes, mouths the words, “see what I mean.”
“I’m great, Alice. We were just opening presents over here. What can I do for you?”
“Well, we’ve been wanting to have Poppy over here for a while. I thought with school being out this week, she might want to come have a sleepover? We were planning on going over to the village tomorrow anyway so I could pick her up then.”
Liam mulls this over while Poppy starts to tug on his shirt, whispering, “Please, Daddy. Please, please, please, please, pl?—”
“Sure,” he says into the phone. “I bet she’d love that.”
“Oh, wonderful. And you’re welcome to join us for skating and dinner of course. I would hate for you to be all alone.”
Before Liam can respond, Poppy grabs the phone from his hand. “Daddy can’t come. He has to go on a date with a princess and break a curse. Can we go sledding?”
I look at Liam, wondering if he knows what Poppy is talking about. He just covers his eyes with his hand, shaking his head at his daughter.
“Of course we can. Tell your dad I’ll come get you at two o’clock. Beau and I can’t wait to have you.”
Poppy hangs up the phone and starts dancing around the living room, cheering something that’s incoherent.
Liam stares at her, his mouth ajar. “Alice is Beau’s mom? Your boyfriend ?”