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“Daddy, Daddy,” Dimity said, tugging on Emory’s hand. “This house is amazing! Is this where we’re going to live?”
“That’s right, darling. Do you like it?”
“I really do! Look at the tree!” she said, gesturing at the fiber-optic tree that was rotating colors in the corner of the hall.
“That’s not even the main tree,” Emory said with a slow smile. “Come on. It’s Christmas morning. Father Christmas may have already visited.”
Her eyes widened. “Already?”
“You were top of the list this year,” Emory said, brushing her curls back from her face. “Take your coat and boots off first, though. They go in there.” He nodded to the door under the staircase. Dimity raced to the cupboard, flung it open and disappeared inside, still talking.
Emory turned to Jesse. His face had grown serious again.
“Thank you, Jesse,” he said. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
Jesse took off his gloves without meeting the haemophile’s eye. “Already had thieving and hacking on the rap sheet. Why not kidnapping, too?”
When he looked back, Emory’s expression had darkened. “Something’s wrong. What is it?”
Jesse’s throat closed again. He tried to speak, but then Dimity was racing out of the closet and tugging on Emory’s hand. “All done, Daddy,” she said. “Where’s the tree? Therealtree?”
“This way,” Emory said, steering her toward the library. “Jesse? Are you joining us?”
“Me?”
“Oh, please, Jesse,” Dimity begged. “Let’s go see what Santa has brought us.”
Jesse looked from the haemophile to the child and back, seeing very different but similarly expectant looks in their faces. Despite everything, it warmed him through.
“Well, if he puts you at the top of the list, it’s only right to see what he’s brought.”
Dimity danced about, shaking excited fists. Emory smiled. He took his daughter’s hand and led her to the library.
Dimity shrieked and ran inside. Jesse stood on the threshold and stared. The bookshelves were wreathed in holly and ivy. Their fresh, woody fragrance filled the air. The sound of a choir singing carols drifted from a hidden sound system. A huge fir tree, reaching almost to the ceiling, stood in the corner, decorated in red, green and gold stained-glass hangings. Tea lights flickered in colored glass globes from almost every branch, pooling the tidal wave of presents below in golden light.
The sight, the warmth, the color, the smell flooded Jesse with something unfamiliar, something like a glow.
“He’s been here. He’s been here,” Dimity cried, diving straight into the presents. “And he knew where I’d be, just like Jesse said he would.”
“Uncle Jesse is usually right about these things,” Emory said in a low voice, catching Jesse’s eye. He held out his hand. Jesse hesitated then took it. He drew Jesse toward the love seat that had been placed next to the tree.
“Go on, then,” Emory said as he sat and crossed his legs. “Open them.”
Dimity started tearing paper from a jigsaw puzzle.
“St. Stephen’s Cathedral,” she said, delighted, holding up the box. “I love it, Daddy. Can we go see it again sometime?”
“Of course. We can spend the whole of next Christmas in Vienna, if you like. How about the next one?”
They watched Dimity make her way through the presents, listening to her delighted commentary as she went. At one point, Emory fetched them drinks—beer for Jesse, hot chocolate for Dimity. Jesse sipped and allowed himself to relax. That curious warmth stole through him again as he watched Emory take delight in Dimity’s joy as she opened sketch pads, an easel, paints and canvas.
“She’s very good at art,” Jesse said as she attempted to set up the easel. “She showed me some of her drawings.”
“We’ve had many acclaimed artists in the family over the years,” Emory replied as he helped her tighten the screws in the wooden frame. “I’m very confident Dimity will be included in that list.”
“You should get her an artist’s tablet,” Jesse said around a yawn, rubbing his eyes. “She had a go on my phone. I think she’d be a whizz at digital art.”
“Would you like that, darling?” Emory said as he opened a box of pencils for her. “Would you like to try making art on a computer as well?”
