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“I’d love to.” Patrick seemed honored, and I think relieved, that his kids still loved him despite all the turmoil.
Bridgette stood on her tiptoes, not quite tall enough to reach the top.
Patrick easily lifted her so she could place the interesting piece on top of the tree, positioning it until it was mostly straight. When he set her down, she immediately hugged his middle. He held on tight, closing his eyes as if giving thanks to God for her.
Rory ended the moment when he exclaimed, “This is the ugliest tree ever. I love it.”
It really was something else.
We all laughed, stood back, and admired our work of art.
Patrick took my hand and squeezed it. “Thank you.”
I felt like I should thank him for letting me share this moment with him and his children. It was the best Christmas season I’d had in a long time. I finally felt like I had something of my own. “Let’s take a picture in front of it. My phone camera has a timer.” I wanted to document this very minute in time and remember it for the rest of my life.
“Excellent idea.” Patrick kissed my cheek.
“I’m staying in the lights.” Rory stood in front of the tree.
“Ooh, let’s all get in lights,” Bridgette suggested. “We can send cheesy Christmas cards that say,You light up our lives.”
I had never seen her so carefree. I loved it. “I think that’s perfect.” Even more so that she wanted to send out cards that included me. She had no idea how badly I’d always wanted to send out “family” Christmas cards, where I annoy all my friends with my children’s accomplishments throughout the year. Another stitch mended my heart.
I was glad I had brought several strings of lights as we helped each other get tangled in them. Patrick was extra helpful as he covertly ran his hands across all my curves, whispering things like, “Merry Christmas to me.”
I was feeling all sorts of good cheer when it was all said and done.
We plugged ourselves in and smiled at how ridiculous we looked.
I got my phone propped up and set on the end table. “Ten seconds!”
I waddled back to them, tightly strung, and took my place next to Patrick on the end. He wrapped his arms around all of us as we squeezed in together.
“Say cheese,” I announced, right before the camera went off.
“Cheese” rang through the suite.
Rory rushed to get the phone so we could look at ourselves. We all gathered round, each of us stilling as we stared at the happyfamilybefore us. No one needed to say the words; we belonged together. The picture spelled it out perfectly.
“This is going to make the best Christmas card,” Patrick said what we were all thinking.
“Let’s design one tomorrow, and I’ll send it to the printer we use for the inn.”
Everyone agreed.
“Now, I think it’s time for bed.” Patrick sounded very fatherly.
“You just want to make out with Stepmommy dearest.” Rory laughed, thinking he was hilarious. Although, most likely correct.
“Good night, son. I love you.” Patrick neither confirmed nor denied the accusation.
“Good night, father dearest,” he mocked. Yet he hugged his dad before unwinding himself from the lights.
Bridgette unwound herself before hugging her father and then me. “Thanks for everything today. Maybe”—she paused—“we can go Christmas shopping next week?”
“I would love that.” I squeezed her extra tight. “Good night, beautiful girl.”
She pranced off like a fairy.
