He was right, of course. Our previous Christmas experiences, while festive, lacked the ones that make us who we are now. This—family breakfast, excited children, the warmth of people who loved each other—was something entirely new.
Sierra had moved the dining table, still holding Toffee, who’d decided that Christmas morning meant he deserved constant attention and some of whatever smelled so good in the kitchen.
She was watching everything with a soft smile that made me itch to hold her, clearly soaking up every moment of the domestic bliss surrounding us.
“He's plotting," I called, nodding toward Toffee as I set a plate of fresh baconon the counter.
"He's always plotting," she replied fondly, scratching behind the cat's ears. "But today he's plotting with Christmas spirit, so it's okay."
Estelle emerged from wherever she'd disappeared to, looking refreshed and bright. She immediately began organizing the buffet-style breakfast we were creating, arranging everything meticulously.
"The kids are going to crash so hard later," she observed fondly, watching Leo demonstrate his dinosaur's various features to anyone who would listen, while Avery had begun a tea party with her creature collection.
Wade appeared as I was pulling the egg dish from the oven, looking impeccable despite having been up until after midnight playing Santa. He had a gift for making everything look flawless.
"Successful morning?" he asked, though the answer was obvious from the sounds of joy echoing through the house.
"I think you broke them," I replied dryly. "In the best way."
His smile was quietly satisfied. "Good. That was the goal."
As we all finally gathered around the dining room table, which Jovie had set with Christmas china at some point, I found myself looking around at the faces surrounding me.
This was what the holidays were supposed to feel like. This is what home looked like.
"Connor," Avery said suddenly, pulling me from my thoughts. "Are you happy?"
The question was so direct, so innocently profound, that it caught me off guard.
"Yeah," I answered, the words sure. "I'm happy."
"Good," she nodded with satisfaction, then returned to her demolition of a cinnamon roll the size of her head.
Sierra's hand took mine under the table, our fingers intertwining.
“Merry Christmas, Grinchy,” she whispered, just loud enough for me to hear.
"Merry Christmas, sweet girl," I replied, bringing her hand to my lips for a kiss.
Surrounded by the people I'd somehow managed to claim as family, despite every effort to remain isolated and grumpy, I felt peace.Belonging. The certainty that whatever came next, we'd face it together.
Not bad for a guy who used to hate holidays.
As breakfast wound down and the kids began making plans for adventures with their new companions, I smiled.
Christmas morning magic was real after all.
The house glowed with the gentle haze of a Christmas afternoon—a kind of light and silence that settled after the early morning.
The living room was a sea of scattered wrapping paper and toppled toy boxes, gold and silver ribbon glinting beneath the enormous tree.
The towering thing had survived the chaos, but its lower branches were now appropriately lopsided from too many eager hands tugging and peeking earlier in the morning.
One by one, the energy in the house had faded to satisfaction and exhaustion. Avery had insisted on just “ten more minutes” of playing with her ‘alicorn,’ only to collapse mid-sentence in the velvet pile beneath the tree.
Leo had lasted a little longer, clutching Dino Two’s collar as his eyes drooped, mouth open in a silent laugh. Toffee, naturally, had found his place at the center of the blanket nest, purring in smug approval at this small huddle of warmth in a world made perfectly for him.
Adrian and Isla were sprawled on the couch nearby, an empty plate of cookies between them. Adrian feigned loud snores, only for Isla to giggle and flick him before burying her face in his chest.
