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“Now-now. Don’t be like that. They are brilliant names. You are the proud owner of Butthead, Buttinsky, Vincent Van Goat, Cheesecake, and last—but not least—Baar-braaa,” he says her name like he’s a sheep. “They have all spent time in the corral with Pixy and Pearl, settling in nicely. They are all tucked up in the barn now for the night. Oh, and by the way, we can confirm you do indeed have at least one fainting goat becauseBaar-braaatips over like Pixy does but takes a little longer to get back on her feet. We haven’t seen the four boys faint yet, but I am sure they will be on their backs feet in the air or on their sides soon enough.”
CJ’s head whips around to face his daddy. “Baaa-baaa,” he repeats and claps his hand.
“You got it, little man. CJ loves Bugg—Pixy,” he corrects himself. “But he has taken a shining toBaar-braaa.”
“Baaa-baaa.” He holds his hands in the air like the little champion he is.
“There might be tears when we leave,” my cousin says through tight lips like he’s a ventriloquist. “They might be coming from Pixy as well. I think the little guy has the hots for Pearl. If he wants to be in with half a chance, he will need to do something about that breath.” Chance looks at his son. “I tell you, CJ, your diaper has nothing on Pixy’s breath. Dude has issues.”
“Pix-pix.”
“Yeah, Pix-pix needs a mint, little man.” I love CJ’s name for Pixy. It’s adorable. “And… you are now the owner of a large potted Christmas tree, which we placed outside near the firepit area, and we may have tired CJ out with decorating it for you this afternoon.”
“Really? I have my first Christmas tree at the Fainting Goat Ranch? I so want to see it.”
“If you hold onto my boy, I’ll take you both around to it.” My cousin leans in before I can protest, hooks an arm under me, lifting me and CJ, shouldering Manny’s door shut.
“You know I am only letting you get away with this because I am holding your baby boy. Otherwise…”
“Yeah. Yeah. Me pretty boy, you independent girl. Now let’s take a look at the tree.”
We make the short walk lit by solar-powered garden lights.
“Oh, wow! The tree isbeautiful,CJ.” I cuddle him closer to my chest, kissing him on his little beanie. “Thank you, Chance,” I say softly. The tree is taller than I thought it would be, and it’s lit up with Christmas lights and lots of decorations. “CJ, you have been a busy boy helping your daddy.”
“Dada…”
“Love you, little man.” Chance leans over and kisses his son’s head.
We stay quiet, watching the lights twinkling.
I feel silly in my cousin’s arms, wanting badly to tell him I can walk, but I keep from voicing my thoughts. Chance did a wonderful thing for me. He knows this is my first Christmas without my family, and he’s giving me this gift to enjoy.
I think of Mum and Dad and some of the good times. I think of how fortunate I am to have my cousin and his small family spend time with me this weekend.
They invited me to spend Christmas in Hermosa Beach with his sister, Adele, and her man, but I want to leave them to enjoy their Christmas together. I’ve also got so much to do before my first bookings arrive, and the countdown is on. And that’s my excuse.
After a few moments, Chance carries both of us toward the front door of the “Hobbit” house, making airplane noises and sweeping us from side to side, taking his time getting there because CJ is squealing with laughter.
I like to call this weekend the Tiny House Experience. The three of them are test-driving my setup for me. I am looking for constructive feedback from Aubrey and Chance before my first bookings arrive on Boxing Day.
I haven’t exactly gotten off to a good start with head-meets-wooden-counter, but after a good night’s sleep, I’ll be back in the swing of it.
My cousin will be spending the next two days landscaping my property. He’s got his team driving up from Hermosa Beach each day to assist.
I couldn’t be in better hands—literally.
CJ’s head swings up to meet his daddy’s gaze. “Dada-dada…”
“Little man, you melt my daddy heart.”
Aubrey swings one of the double wooden doors open, and I get welcomed with the warmth from inside the tiny house. They have the Jotul wood-burning heater, keeping the cold night air at bay. “Ophelia, how are you feeling?” She moves toward us like a bullet, ready to smother me in a hug of sorts while I’m in her husband’s arms. “Here, let me take CJ.” Aubrey is my sister-from-another-mister. I love her. I can’t believe how lucky I got to call her my friend. I release the beautiful little boy into his mother’s arms, and she multitasks by giving me a one-arm hug.
Aubrey’s around my height with creamy skin, wide green eyes, and a shock of wavy auburn hair that cascades down her back. She’s stunning, dressed in blue jeans and a jade-colored buttoned-up knit sweater.
“Chance, place Ophelia on the couch.”
“Princess, you’ll have to move that fine ar—butt of yours out of my way so I can get to it. These Hobbit houses take some getting used to, and so does curbing the language around little ears.”
