Her lips curve up. “Yes. Your teeth. I was wondering if I’d have to make an appointment for you to go to the dentist. Since you seem to be intent on grinding your teeth into stumps.”
I bare my teeth at her. “Nope. Still all here.”
Elle laughs softly. “Thank goodness.” Then she leans in to kiss me. She tastes of sugar and sweet cream from the half-filled glass of eggnog on the coffee table in front of us. Her hair brushes my cheek, bringing with it a hint of the coconut shampoo she uses. When she pulls away, she adds, “I love you no matter what. But I do like your smile. I think I’d prefer to keep it as it is.”
“You like my smile, hmm?” I flash her a ridiculously wide grin. “Should I walk around like this all the time, then?”
Elle giggles. The sound of it releases some of the tension banded around my chest. “Yes,” she replies, “you should definitely walk around like that. It wouldn’t be odd at all.”
A beat later, she grimaces as she flashes a quick look at Noel. But he’s still sacked out, his sweet face peaceful as he dreams his innocent baby dreams of reindeer and Christmas cookies and being held by parents who love him.
I brush his hair off his forehead. “Don’t worry. After the excitement of today, I think he’s out for the count.”
“It’s been a good day, hasn’t it?” Elle asks. Her expression softens. “I know it’s technically Noel’s second Christmas. But he was so little last year, he couldn’t appreciate any of it.”
I’m not going to remind Elle that our newly-one-year-old son probably won’t remember any of this Christmas, either. She will. I will. And that’s the important thing.
“Is there a reason you’re over there, grinning like a loon?” Cole asks. He’s seated on the couch perpendicular to us, with Maya right beside him. Like Noel, James is fast asleep on Cole’s lap.
“Zane’s always a loon,” Rylan answers for me. He’s sitting on the floor, pushing a toy train around for Sam. Charlie has her phone out, snapping photos of them.
“Who’s a loon?” Finn asks. He’s over at the buffet table, loading up his plate again.
Hanna lowers her camera. She’s been taking pictures of Clara, Lily, Ansel, and Porter, and I fully expect to see some of them framed and hung on the wall soon. “Zane’s a loon,” she tells her husband. “As always.”
Finn laughs. “That sounds about right.”
I swipe a cherry tomato from my plate and fling it at Finn. He bats it away, and it lands on the floor, where Porter makes an eager lunge for it.
“Mom.” Clara frowns at Porter, who’s already inhaled the tomato and is now sniffing around formore. “Porter ate off the floor. We’re not ’sposed to do that. Are we?”
“People aren’t supposed to eat off the floor,” Maya replies. “But dogs are different. It’s okay if they do.”
Clara’s little face screws up in thought. “Like how dogs and people go potty different?”
Maya smothers a laugh. Then she looks pointedly at Cole. “Do you want to handle that one, honey?”
Cole’s cheeks flush a ruddy pink. “I think we already went over it.” With a patient smile for Clara, he tells her, “Like we talked about, sweetie. We do some things differently than Ansel and Porter. And that’s okay.” He pauses, and I can tell he’s casting about for a way to change the subject. “Why don’t you read that new book to the dogs? The one about thePoky Little Puppy?”
Clara brightens. “Oh. Okay.” She tugs Lily’s hand. “Let’s read this one next. It’s really good.”
Crisis averted, Cole sags against the couch cushions. Then he grabs his eggnog and takes a healthy swig.
From the recliner by the fireplace, Nora laughs. “I love how she keeps you on your toes.”
“She sure does,” Jack agrees. He adjusts Nora on his lap, so her legs are draped over his. “I never thought I’d see the day when Cole gets all flustered over a simple question.”
“Just wait until she gets older,” Georgia adds. She nudges Leo and gives him a meaningful look. “When they start asking about boys and?—”
“No boys,” Leo interrupts. “Not until she’s thirty. Or maybe forty.”
“I can’t wait until they want to date,” Hanna says. “Those poor boys.”
“What boys?” Clara’s little voice pipes in. “Are boys coming over?”
Cole shoots Hanna a warning look. “Just the boys that are here, sweetie. That’s all.”
As Clara turns back to her book, everyone else in the room falls silent. Not intentionally, but rather just thinking. Appreciating. Trying to push away the bad memories to make room for the good.
