Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Christmas Eve had always been a night of magic, but this year, it felt even more special. Maybe it was because Dean was with them.
Not just for dinner, or for a few stolen hours in the afternoon while Pip was at school, or on those rare nights when Pip spent the night at Victor’s.
Tonight, for the first time, Dean was staying with both of them. Pip had been very clear about that, insisting that Dean had to be there when she woke up and opened her presents.
“Santa comes at midnight,” she explained to Dean, as if only kids knew that fact and the adults needed a reminder.
Pip was curled on the couch between them, wide awake despite the late hour, her Christmas pajamas covered in tiny snowflakes.
Dean rose for a moment, walking over to where he’d hung his winter coat by the front door. He withdrew a small package from the pocket, returning to the couch to hand it to Pip.
“I got you an early Christmas present.”
Pip’s eyes went wide. “I can open it now?”
“Yep,” he said.
Vivian watched as her daughter ripped into the wrapping paper.
“A book!” Pip’s genuine delight over the gift did Vivian’s heart good.
She and Belle had been reading to Pip since she was a newborn, so the little girl’s love of stories was deeply engrained.
Pip’s books were truly some of her most precious possessions, and it was rare that Vivian wasn’t expected to read at least half a dozen of them every night as her daughter always pleaded for “just one more.”
“It reminded me of you,” Dean confessed to Pip.
Pip turned the book over in her hands, studying the picture of the little girl on ice skates, one mittened hand clasped in her father’s.
“Can we read it now?” she asked.
Dean nodded. “Of course.” He took the book from Pip and opened it to the first page. Pip immediately tucked herself against his side as he started reading.
She watched Dean turn each page, his voice warm and steady as he read about the little girl learning to skate. Pip interrupted every few pages with questions, observations, and enthusiastic predictions about what would happen next.
“Why is she scared?” Pip asked.
“Because she’s never skated before,” Dean replied.
“Is her dad going to help her?”
Dean pointed to the page. “He’s right there, isn’t he. Ready to catch her.”
“Like you were, when I learned to ride my bike.”
This time, it took Dean a second to answer, and Vivian saw him swallow deeply. “Yeah. Just like that.”
Vivian had to look away as something in her chest squeezed. She considered the weeks since Thanksgiving. It had only been a month, but somehow Dean had woven himself into their lives so naturally, she could hardly remember what it had felt like before him.
They’d managed to go on quite a few of Pip’s “dates,” which was saying something, considering Dean was in the midst of hockey season. For a guy who’d been worried about not being present enough, he always made time for them.
Thank goodness. Because once her daughter had decided Dean belonged to them, it was all systems go on the outings.
Pip had planned a bowling date, where she insisted Dean be on her team; a movie night, where she made them all share the biggest popcorn they served; and an ice cream excursion, where she’d somehow managed to convince him that three toppings were the absolute minimum allowed.
There had been McDonald’s Happy Meals for “fun dinner” night following an afternoon game, an impromptu stop at a toy store, and a wonderful evening spent simply walking along the Inner Harbor looking at the Christmas lights, before stopping for hot chocolate.
Each outing was a date in Pip’s mind, and Dean played along every single time, picking them up with flowers or little treats for both of his girls. The world’s sweetest suitor.
He never acted as if Pip was an inconvenience or in the way. There’d been a few times when the two of them had been having so much fun, Vivian started to wonder if she was the third wheel. Not that she gave a shit about that.
Dean was there for her little girl, and if Vivian hadn’t fallen head over heels for the man prior to Thanksgiving, the last month would have cemented his place in her heart forever.
He was incredibly patient with Pip’s endless questions and stories, and he never failed to admire her artwork, help her tie her shoes, or help her with her homework.
Pip was completely attached to him. She always looked for Dean when she came through the door after school, saved things to tell him, reached for his hand without thinking about it.
He was showing up, and that was what mattered. Not just to Vivian but to Dean, who still struggled with guilt over McKenna and the past. It was getting better, but she suspected that regret was something he’d always carry with him.
For a man with no practical experience as a father, Dean was a natural.
He automatically crouched down to Pip’s level when she was talking to him.
He never brushed off her questions, no matter how silly or complicated.
He let her beat him at Go Fish, then pretended to be devastated by his defeat.
He carried her when she was tired and laughed when she climbed on his back.
He’d also learned that bedtime required a lot of negotiation, blueberry yogurt tasted suspicious for some unknown reason, and that “just one more” was never actually one more.
Pip had never known her father, and while she’d seen pictures and heard stories about him, that wasn’t the same thing. She’d never heard the sound of his voice or felt his arms around her, and Vivian had spent the last five years carrying that loss for both of them.
So watching Dean with Pip—watching her little girl laugh with a man who was slowly, carefully finding his way—meant more to Vivian than she could ever put into words.
Dean wasn’t replacing Phil. He wasn’t even trying to. He was simply being Pip’s Coach Dee.
Vivian looked at her daughter curled against his side, completely absorbed in the story, and felt happy. Truly happy.
When Dean finished the story, Pip sighed.
“That was a good story.”
“It was,” Dean agreed.
“Can you teach me how to skate?”
Dean’s gaze flicked to Vivian. “If your mom says it’s okay.”
Pip looked at Vivian with those big eyes that had her wondering if her daughter was sincere in her pleading or a master manipulator. Because Vivian could never say no when Pip looked at her that way.
“I think that can be arranged,” she replied.
“Can you read me another one?” Pip asked, turning that powerful Puss-in-Boots gaze on Dean, who looked ready to give in.
“Nope,” Vivian said, standing. “It’s already past your bedtime and Santa needs us all asleep before he can slide down that chimney. Come on and I’ll tuck you in.”
Pip usually fought against going to bed, but the magic of Santa wasn’t something the little girl was prepared to mess with. She rose quickly, then looked at Dean. “Are you coming too?”
Dean looked at Vivian with hopeful eyes that were just as deadly as Pip’s pleading ones. She reached out and grasped his hand, pulling him down the hallway with them.
Once Pip was tucked in, good night kisses given, they returned to the living room.
This time, it was Vivian curled against Dean as they cuddled next to each other on the couch, watching the flickering lights of the Christmas tree.
“We’ll give her half an hour to conk out and then ‘Santa’ can arrive,” she said, air-quoting Santa, since she was the jolly old man.
“Christmas Eve is a lot more fun with a kid. Beats the hell out of spending the night alone.”
“Is that how you spent it last year?” she asked.
He nodded. “Watched National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, ordered in Chinese, and fell asleep on the couch. Didn’t even bother with a tree because McKenna was in Ohio, celebrating with Ellie.”
“That sounds awful.”
Dean chuckled. “It’s not so bad when you don’t know anything else. After this year, though, yeah…I guess it was pretty awful.”
Vivian rested her head on his shoulder. “You fit here,” she said softly.
Dean shifted slightly so that he could see her face.
“With us,” she added.
He cupped her cheeks in both hands, pressing his forehead to hers. “Thank you for saying that. For letting me break into this incredible family of yours. These past few months with you have been the best time of my life.”
He kissed her deeply, sweetly.
Vivian twisted until she was straddling his lap and for the next half hour, the two of them made out like horny teenagers. When they finally managed to come up for air, Dean gestured toward the tree with a tilt of his head.
“Magic time?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
The two of them tiptoed to the guest bathroom linen closet, where Vivian had hidden the wrapped Christmas presents. It took them a few trips, Vivian spending nearly ten minutes spreading them around the tree, aware she might have gone overboard this year.
“Did you break the bank?” Dean asked, equally taken aback by the sheer number of presents.
“No. Pip is still at an age where her wish list is fairly cheap. The pile will no doubt get considerably smaller as she gets older, and she starts asking for expensive tech instead of a ten-dollar Barbie doll or Play-Doh set. Plus,” she gestured to the left-hand side, “Santa didn’t just deliver Pip’s gifts. ”
Dean rubbed his hands together with glee when he spotted his name on several of the boxes. She held him back when he started to reach for one.
“What are you doing? It’s not Christmas morning yet,” she said, giggling.
“I just want to shake them.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re as bad as Victor when it comes to waiting. Stay away from those boxes.”
Dean sighed dramatically, as if her request was a hard one. “Fine. But unlike you…”
She watched as he returned to his coat, pulling out another small package.
“How many presents do you have in that coat?”
Dean admitted that he had a pile of gifts in the trunk of his car, but he didn’t want to compete with Santa, so she and Pip were opening his presents at Victor and Belle’s house later tomorrow morning.