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“Do you think she’ll like the present?” Ethan asked, carefully balancing the tray as he walks, Sparky hovering close by, in case of spillage (he took his job as family vacuum very seriously).
“I know she will,” I said, walking up the stairs, holding the wrapped package that Ethan had picked out.
It was Christmas Eve.
We’d do the big present opening thing tomorrow. Santa would come and fill stockings and my family would come over and we’d have a living room full of wrapping paper scraps and discarded boxes and eat too much food.
We would make memories, spend time together, and I was lucky enough to finally do it with a family of my own.
But tonight was about Ethan, Jules, and me.
Our little family that we built.
We pushed through the door to Jules’s and my bedroom, and my woman was awake, knees up, computer propped across the tops of her thighs.
Working.
As always.
My woman was applying for nursing school, which meant she had a bunch of tests to study for.
So, no surprise, even on the morning of Christmas Eve, she was getting a jump on it.
My only consolation was that I’d finally convinced her to quit her job at CeCe’s, so that she could go to school full time. It was why nursing school was going to be happening soon.
Because my woman was going to crush her exams.
“Hi, boys,” she said, closing her laptop screen and setting it to the side. “Do you want me to cook—oh,”she exclaimed softly, gaze hitting on the tray.
“We cooked you breakfast in bed, Mom!” Ethan said, tray rattling as he hurried toward her.
Jules’s eyes going wide, hand extending to steady it instinctively, but she didn’t take it from him, just let him bring it over and set it onto her lap—though she did move the laptop a safe distance away.
Mom Powers.
Grinning, I watched Ethan show her the pancakes and fruit and eggs and bacon, winking when she glanced over at me, letting my kiddo have his moment. He was proud—rightfully so—and I didn’t want to take away from what he’d done.
Looking after his mom.
He just didn’t have to do that alone any longer.
Such a good fucking kid.
Then Ethan spun, brows lifting expectantly and I realized in my admiration of mom and son, I’d missed my cue.
I moved forward, passed over the package.
“Here, Mom!” Ethan said, handing it to her and nearly upending the tray.
“Should I wait for Christmas to open it?” she asked, managing to hold it and keep her breakfast safe.
“Nope!” Ethan exclaimed, p popping at the end. “It’s got to be now.”
Jules’s brows dragged together, but she didn’t otherwise question the urgency, just began tearing open the paper, revealing the generic online shipping box beneath. “What is it?” she asked, fingers going to the tape holding the flaps closed.
“We’re not going to ruin the surprise,” Ethan said.
“It’s a surprise?” Jules asked teasingly.
