10
NIKO
We had a wonderful Christmas Eve.
The look on Dakota’s face when I opened the bin of decorations and the way he giggled at the different ornaments was everything. The best part was when I told him I'd want to get a tree next year too, and his immediate response was that it sounded like the perfect idea. I wasn't the only one looking at this as a long-term relationship. He was too.
I slid out of bed. I had plans, and if Dakota managed to stay asleep while I got ready, it would make them a thousand times better. I popped in the shower and then put on my Santa suit instead of my regular clothes. I'd stashed it in the closet, grateful that as far as I knew, Dakota hadn't seen it yet.
It was difficult going back and forth between places, especially with his being so small. I didn't see that as a permanent situation. Maybe we'd move into a bigger apartment together, but more likely, I saw us settling down in a house within the next year…possibly as a rental property, possibly one we'd buy.
More than anything, I'd love to give Dakota his own room to play and be Little. He deserved it after spending so much time alone, scared in a new city.
He never used the word "scared," but as he told the stories, his fear was palpable. What I would have done to have looked up that first day I was shoveling and met his eyes. Maybe we’d have connected then, cutting that time he was all alone down. But there was nothing we could do about the past and everything we could do about the future.
I cracked the door open and was happy to see that Dakota, now joined by Mr. Whiskers, were sound asleep on the bed. Now, if I could make it to the car and back, all would be good. The tote of Christmas ornaments wasn't the only thing I had in my trunk. I also had Santa's bag of gifts.
It was safe to say I went a little overboard, and not just for Dakota. Although he was going to be spoiled, that cat had me wrapped around his little paw. Every time I went anywhere, I saw something he just had to have. Tyler would laugh at me if he saw how much power that furball had over me, although I doubt he'd be surprised.
It was colder outside than it had been, snow lightly falling and the streets so very quiet. I was sure the apartments in the neighborhood were filled with kids waking up early to see what Santa left them, or families hurrying to get ready so they could travel to see Grandma for Christmas. But no one was wandering around just yet. All the storefronts were closed as they, too, celebrated with their families. It was a calm that only came once a year.
I grabbed Santa's bag out of the car. It was heavier than I remembered and walked back to the house with it slung over myshoulder. This time I did pass a couple of people, thankfully not little children. I’d have felt horrible if they asked if I had a gift for them in my bag because cat treats and adult-sized onesies weren't really the stuff of kids' dreams.
Ever so quietly, I opened the door and tiptoed back inside the apartment.
This time, I wasn't so lucky. Dakota was up. The sound of the shower running reached my ears and told me I was on borrowed time. I had a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it in.
I opened my bag and took out the filled stockings, placing them in front of the television. At least there was a Yule log there, which was closer to a mantle than anything else here. Then I went to work putting the other presents under the tree. In theory, Santa came when you were sleeping, but today it was going to be good enough that he came while my sweet boy was showering.
My next task was breakfast. I'd already made the batter for today's waffles last night, a trick my grandmother taught me that made them better, something about letting them sit. All that was left to do was turning on the waffle maker, flipping the switch for the coffee, and waiting for Dakota to come out.
Mr. Whiskers came over to the tree and tried sniffing the presents. I guessed it was the catnip luring him in because last night he’d wanted no part of that tree.
A few minutes later, Dakota came out. He was wearing pajamas that had a hood with reindeer antlers on it. The feet were designed to look like hooves and even had mitts for the hands. It was the cutest thing I’d ever seen.
"You look absolutely adorable, baby boy." I didn’t think I’d ever get over the way his face lit up when I called him that.
"Thank you, Santa. I've been a very, very good boy this year."
"I know. That's why I came special, just for you. I brought presents, and I'm even going to make you waffles."
He'd known about the waffles. Heck, he'd watched me make the batter and set up the new waffle iron. But there was something about playing along with the holiday spirit.
"I hope Mr. Whiskers gets presents too. He's been very good, and he had a hard year."
"If you look under the tree, you'll see all of the presents wrapped with cat paper are for Mr. Whiskers. But first, baby boy, we have to eat."
He rolled his eyes. "Yes, Daddy."
His disappointment vanished the second I allowed him to pour as much syrup as he wanted onto his Christmas-tree-shaped waffles. They had a waffle maker for every shape and size now, and the new Christmas one I picked up was perfect for today.
"You're not going to take it away if I put too much on it, are you?"
"Nope, it's Christmas. You can have as much syrup as you want. But if you get too sticky, you might have to change out of your reindeer." I had a feeling it was inevitable.
"I'll be careful, Daddy."
It was a joy watching him eat, playing with his food, and drinking from the sippy cup of my milk I'd poured and heated up for him. Now that he had access to milkies all the time, it wasn'tjust bottles he drank from, even though he still preferred it on tap.
