Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Austin
Marcie’s skills at clearing the kitchen of boxes were far superior to her mathematical ones. Within an hour, there wasn’t a single box left to hamper my ability to cook. I’d just picked up the first casserole dish when she popped back into the kitchen.
“Table’s all set.”
“I’m not going to see a few thousand piggies decorating our table, am I?”
“What a silly question, Daddy. A far better one is what can I do to help you?”
If she thought I’d not notice that wasn’t exactly an answer, she thought wrong. But I was a firm believer in anticipation whatever side of the paddle that might be on. “Can you grab the oven door for me?”
“Sure!”
She bounced over, but before she could grab the handle, I reminded, “Be careful. It’s hot.”
“I sure hope so because as much as I love your lasagna even when it’s cold, I don’t think I’d like crunchy, uncooked noodles.”
After I’d slid the dish into the oven, I kissed the tip of her nose. “I assure you, your Daddy knows how to heat things up.” To add a bit of visual aid to my assurance, I dropped my hand and popped it against her rear.
“That’s not very ni… they’re here!”
I was actually a bit surprised. Not that our guests had begun arriving, but that I could hear Marcie’s words over the sound of the doorbell ringing.
Or, more accurately, when the first musical notes of a Christmas carol began to blare all through the house.
Evidently, she’d also found the time to hook up the new music box to not only welcome our guests, but to inform all our neighbors exactly which holiday was coming up next.
“I’ve got it, Daddy!” she yelled above the carolers belting the lyrics about a red-nosed reindeer.
“No running in the house,” I shouted right back, swearing I could hear the squeak of rubber sneakers skidding to a halt in the hallway leading to the front of the house. “And make sure to check before you open that door. Remember, Santa’s watching.”
“You’re so funny.”
“What was that?”
She turned at the sound of my voice, most likely because it was louder due to the fact I was now leaning against the kitchen doorjamb.
“I was just saying, you make such a fine Santa Daddy.”
I grinned. “Ahh, well, you deserve the very best, babygirl.”
“You have my permission to put that on your list!” She didn’t run, but she could speed walk better than anyone I’d ever known.
I’d never cease to be amazed at how quickly my Little girl could go from the depths of anguish to the peak of pure joy faster than a certain famous sleigh that flew around the entire world in one night.
I reentered the kitchen to set the timer, dropped the oven mitts on the counter, and went to join Marcie in welcoming our guests.
“All clear!” Marcie announced after pressing her nose against the beveled glass of our front door. “Merry Christmas,” she shouted as she pulled it open. The moment she had enough room, she yanked Jenna through and then flung her arms her arms around her best friend.
“Merry Christmas!” Jenna shouted right back.
While the two girls performed their routine happy dance which involved a flurry of high fives, slapping palms, hip bumps, and gyrations far too complicated to follow, I opened the door wider to allow Leo room to slip inside and then shut it which silenced the carol.
“And so it’s begun,” Leo said, shaking his head. The grin on his face belied his attempt at sounding dire.
“And so it has indeed.” We hugged like normal people, which included only one slap on the other’s back and a transfer of the bottle he’d brought from his clutch to mine. I looked at the label and then at him. “Since when do you drink sparkling grape juice?”
“That’s Jenna’s contribution for this evening. She’s still on restriction from last month’s dinner. She might be twenty-five, but she has the tolerance for alcohol of someone still in their teens.”
“If I recall correctly, our tolerance was pretty high back then,” I said with a chuckle.
“That’s why we’re the Daddies. Here, this one is for us.” He presented a second bottle. “I got us a red. You are serving your famous lasagna, right?”
“Like you’d ever let me cook something else,” I said good-naturedly.
“And please tell me there is cheesecake for dessert!” Jenna said.
The greeting ritual had to have ended as the plea included both of her hands pressed together beneath her chin as if in prayer.
“Would I let you down?” I asked, opening my arms wide, both to let her plow into me as she wrapped her arms around my middle in a hug as well as to keep the bottles I was still holding safely out of harm’s way.
“And, Daddy even included a surprise with dessert,” Marcie said.
I quirked a brow as this was the first time I’d heard of this surprise. That was until she scrunched up her nose and made a soft snorting sound as if to jog my memory. I chuckled. “I believe the thanks for any surprise goes to this evening’s hostess.”
Jenna turned to Marcie. “Did you just snort?”
Marcie opened her mouth to answer but was interrupted by the next line in the chorus as more guests arrived.
The next several minutes were spent in a whirlwind of shouted hellos, dizzying hugs and dances as the Littles in our group greeted each other like they’d been separated for a lifetime rather than what was most likely only a few days or perhaps a week at the most.
“Dinner in half an hour,” I announced. After the last guest’s heels had crossed the threshold, I practically slammed the door shut
“Daddy, is it okay if we play until dinner?” Marcie asked.
“Sure, but just so you know, we’re seriously going to have to rethink the whole doorbell thing.”
“Isn’t it fun!”
“That’s not the word I would choose. Let’s just say that if it continues to ring as often as it has over the last half hour, the next time we host dinner, I’ll be serving venison.”
Her mouth dropped open and her eyes grew huge. “Daddy! You can’t do that!”
“Believe me, I can—”
“I mean”—she bent forward, beckoning me to do the same until our noses were practically touching—“venison is deer. You can’t cook Rudolph’s relatives! Santa would never forgive you!”
“Then I suggest you figure out a way to not only rotate the tunes on that box but turn it down several decibels. It’s driving me bats… reindeer poop crazy!”
She giggled. “Good catch there. I’m pretty sure Santa doesn’t like cursing either.”
While I couldn’t exactly argue, I could reach out for her, but she was a quick Little girl and scooted out of reach, swinging her hips to the side to better her chances of missing any swats.
And as if that wasn’t enough to throw off my aim, she had the audacity to turn around and walk backward while continuing to address me.
“I’d really love to stay and chit-chat with you, but we have guests, remember?”
“Like they don’t have a clue as to what happens to sassy Little girls.” I grinned. “Go on. I’ll call you when it’s time.”
Despite her concern for our guests, she found time to reverse her retreat and run back and go up on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. “Thanks, Santa Daddy,” she said before bouncing back to her friends.
“Why’d you call him Santa Daddy?” Dawn asked as the group headed down the hall.
“Probably because she’s already got presents!” Jenna said, lifting a finger to point. “Look at all those.”
“Wow, have you peeked at any yet?” Chloe asked as she poked her head into the doorway to get a better look.
“Only naughty Littles peek.” Henry’s contribution was met with laughter.
“Wrong, only clever Littles know how not to get caught,” Emma offered with a giggle.
“Don’t worry, we can teach you how being a little sneaky can come in handy at times.”
That came from Marcie and didn’t surprise me a bit.
“Besides, I already know what’s in those boxes. It’s why I’m gonna need your help,” she added.
Their voices faded as they turned the corner at the end of the hallway.
I smiled and glanced toward the door they’d been looking into.
Even if I hadn’t heard their exchange, I supposed it wouldn’t take much thought to figure out where at least some of those boxes had gone.
Then again, it actually made perfect sense.
Where else would our first overnight guests of the season spend the night other than in our guest room?
“Who’s drinking?” I asked when I returned to the living room to join the men and the one woman of our inner circle.
“Wouldn’t the better question be who isn’t?” they chorused in almost perfect harmony.
Okay, that probably wasn’t the smartest question I’d ever asked.
I uncorked the first bottle of wine and began to fill glasses.
Leo helped prepare drinks for those who preferred harder liquor and once everyone had a glass of their choice, we took seats in the living room.
Leo plopped his ass in his favorite spot and his feet up on the coffee table.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you any manners?” Tilda asked, stepping over his outstretched legs to sit beside him.
My bark of laughter drew her attention.
“Don’t encourage him.”
“Don’t waste your breath, Tildy. That’s what these get togethers are all about and why we all enjoy them so much.
We can be our real selves, no need for formality or uncomfortableness, no need to be on guard worrying about those around us…
” The sound of a bell had me practically growling as I stood up from where I’d just taken a seat.
I was halfway to the door when I realized I didn’t hear any lyrics singing along to the buzzing.
“I think that’s your timer,” Grant called.
Turning back, I shook my head. “Be warned. If any of your Littles suggest a cute little doorbell for Christmas, run for the hills.”
Several chuckles were heard as I switched direction and headed for the kitchen. I wasn’t really surprised to turn and see they’d followed me.
“What can we do to speed up this process?” Stu asked.
“You’ve been here what? A whole five minutes?” I groused.