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Holding up my hands in mock defeat, I walk over to our little girl and see what she's up to. "Daddy's here, sweetie pie," I say and then get down to her level. "This one? This one's for Grampa. See? G-R-A-M-P-A." Beth follows along as I spell, pointing to each letter I say. "Good job! Have you been working on your spelling?"
Beth giggles. "Yep! Robbie and Mommy help me sometimes."
I give her a kiss on the top of her head. "I can tell, sweetheart. You're improving lots." I feign looking for her present. "Hmm… Now which one is for our Beth… Aha!" I pick up a particularly sparkly gift. "Is this one for you? I wonder… Let's see the name…"
"Beth, darling, help Daddy check if your name is on that one," Bella calls over.
Our three-year-old immediately scrambles up my lap, grabs the present, and looks for a name, "Ummm… B-E… Uh… T-H! This one is my one!"
"Oh my! I think we have a Spelling Bee champion among us!" Bella says from the couch.
"Mommy!" Beth hollers, scrambling off my lap to run to her mother. "Help me open up my present. Please?"
"Oh, what a sparkly gift you have! All right then, darling. Come sit here next to Robbie and Mommy." Bella pats the space on the couch next to her and Beth climbs up rather enthusiastically.
I pick myself up from the floor and start to head to the kitchen. "Coffee, my love?"
"Oh, yes, please. You've read my mind!"
I add enough coffee grounds for two, add some bottled water—because Bella insists that it makes the coffee taste better—and start the coffee machine. We've been together for five, incredibly happy years and we've not regretted a single moment. After I proposed to her that Christmas morning, five years ago, we decided that Bella should finish her apprenticeship in New York before we settled back in Christmas for good. That year in New York was hell on my PTSD, and it would have been unbearable if I didn't have Bella.
Wherever you are, wherever you want to be, I'll be right there beside you, where you need me. I said in my wedding vows, and I meant it.
While Bella was out working, I went and got myself help. I saw a therapist to help sort out my PTSD issues, and I'm proud to say that I have not had a nightmare of my time in the army nor a panic attack for a good three and a half years now. Bella announcing that she was pregnant with our first helped tremendously, too. I wanted to be the best father I could be, so I made sure to get on top of things before Robbie was born. And I practice good mental health habits often.
When Bella got pregnant with Robbie, we knew that New York wasn't the place we wanted to raise our children. So, we moved right back to Christmas, to the house that was still waiting for us, right next door to her parents. Thanks to the internship in New York, Bella managed to land a junior editor’s role after giving birth to Robbie, and just a year later, she became one of the co-editors of the Christmas Post, our local newspaper.
I restarted my handyman business as soon as we moved back to Christmas, and business is booming. Now, since I have a few employees under my belt, I've been able to reduce my working hours. I’ve been more than happy to split parenting shifts with Bella, who started working part-time at the Post after Beth’s birth two years ago. I take care of the kids while Bella works and she takes care of them when I'm at work, but Bella's parents are always on hand if ever we both end up with important meetings at the same time. It's a happy, stress-free system.
"Gosh, how time flies," I muse to myself as I catch the scent of freshly brewed coffee. I pour a cup for Bella and one for myself, and head back to the living room to watch the rest of Christmas morning unfold. The scene I've just walked into reminds me of how much I love parenting and parenthood in general. Bella is running around the living room with Beth in tow, arms spread like an airplane, while Robbie runs alongside them with a jet plane toy.
Robbie is the first to spot me coming back. "Daddy! Look what Santa got me!" He runs toward me, making jet plane noises. "Isn't it cool?"
I place the mugs on the coffee table, pick Robbie up and sit with him on the couch. "Can I see that?" He nods and hands me his Christmas present. I pretend to examine it, making appropriate noises of curiosity, "An F-22! Did you know that Daddy has been in one of those?"
He gasps. "No way! Really? That's so coooooool!"
"Really! I have a picture standing next to one," I respond, meeting his eagerness.
"Show me! Show me!"
"Now, now, Robbie, we need to get ready to go to Granma and Grampa's," Bella says between sips of coffee. She's now joined us on the couch while Beth spins around with a toy unicorn in her arms. She’s a little ball of happiness.
"I'll show you all the cool photos when we come back, Robbie," I say and then smile at my beautiful wife, the best Christmas gift I was ever blessed with. Way back before that moment, I never thought I'd get married, let alone have two children. But parenting has brought on a whole new level of closeness to our relationship, one that we get to share with our enthusiastic offspring. Every day since the moment I gave in to the calling of my heart, every day since I claimed Bella as mine, has been a massive gift for me.
For most, Christmas comes but once a year. For me, it’s every morning when I wake up next to the love of my life.
EPILOGUE 2
BELLA
"Yoo-hoo! Merry Christmaaaas!" I yell as we enter my parent's house. The kids go running straight in, and Ryder follows behind me with his arms full of food and gifts.
"Did someone say cuddle party?!" Dad responds, coming from the kitchen with his arms wide. The kids jump right into them, hugging their grampa tight and telling him all about the presents Santa left under the tree. “Oh! You’re both so lucky. Why don’t you go and find Granma and see if Santa left a little something for you here.” Both sets of eyes light up before they run off, squealing with delight. "Merry Christmas, dear." Dad moves over to us and gives me a kiss on the cheek before he moves to shake Ryder’s hand. “And Merry Christmas, son.”
Ryder chuckles since calling him ‘son’ is my dad’s version of a joke. “And to you,Dad.” Both men’s eyes shine with mirth as Dad takes the food from Ryder’s arms and leaves us briefly to take them into the kitchen where he and Mom have been preparing up a storm.
"Santa left you a present under our tree, too, Grampa!" Bethany says when he gets back, giggling as she waves us into the den. "I think he got confused because your house is next to our house."
