Page 88 of Sea Breezes at The Beach House Hotel

“Yes, Bernie, Merry Christmas. We’ll see you tomorrow,” said Rhonda.

We walked back to the hotel. A crowd of hotel guests had gathered in the lobby.

“What’s going on?” several asked.

Rhonda and I explained what had happened and hoped that the disturbance next door with the firetrucks hadn’t frightened them.

A couple of children were in the group, dressed in pajamas. They’d obviously been awakened by the commotion.

I knelt in front of one little boy. “Everything is fine. Are you excited about Christmas?”

He grinned. “Mommy and Daddy told Santa Claus we’d be at The Beach House Hotel.”

“Well, then, guess you’d better go to sleep so you can wake up to Christmas.”

His mother beamed at me. “Thanks for your assurance. Everyone here at the hotel has been very kind and understanding. Spending Christmas here is always special.”

“Enjoy,” said Rhonda. She turned to the group of people walking away, “Merry Christmas, everyone!”

The employee at the front desk gave us a thumbs up, and then Rhonda and I walked away.

Outside, I stopped and stared at the front of the elegant hotel.

“She’s a beauty,” said Rhonda.

“Truly.”

Taking another moment, I gazed at the palm fronds caressing the night air with the help of the sea breezes coming onto the shore. They added to the hotel's beauty.

“ ’C’mon,” said Rhonda. “We’d better get back to our families.”

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At Rhonda’s house, the party was still going. I gazed at the group of friends, thankful once more that everyone here was safe and looking forward to the celebration.

The kids were beginning to fuss, and seeing the fatigue on Liz’s face, I went to her. “How about my helping you get the kids settled for the night? Chad needs his freedom to spend with the other men.”

“Oh, Mom, that would be great. They’re on a sugar high and beyond excited. Getting them into bed and asleep won’t be easy. Do you remember how you used to sing to me? Maybe you can do that.”

I chuckled. I had no singing voice, but she’d always loved bedtime songs.

We said goodbye to everyone, and I helped walk the Ts to the car and climbed into the van with them.

Liz drove to her house, parked, and together we got the children inside, washed up, and into their pajamas. Gabe, the youngest, was half asleep when we put him in his crib. But the Ts were not about to succumb quietly.

Noah joined his sisters in their room and lay tucked under the cover on Olivia’s bed.

Seeing their eager expressions waiting for me to begin, my eyes stung with tears. Liz had been afraid of never having children. And now she had four.

“Gammy, sing Rudolph,” said Emily.

I started singing it in a low voice so I wouldn’t disturb Gabe.

“Now, Frosty,” said Noah.

It took another six songs, each one softer, to make their eyelids droop and their breathing slow. I didn’t realize Liz was watching from the doorway and Chad had joined her until I heard their quiet “thank you”.

Chad walked into the bedroom and lifted Noah in his arms to carry him to his bed. Though Noah mumbled something, he remained asleep.