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Much like my son, I rip into the package, lift the cover, and my jaw drops.“A knife? Isn’t that bad luck?”
“Not if you add a penny, which Idouble-checked with Nonna. Keep digging, there’s more.”My partner hovers over me like a little kid as I dig into the tissue paper.
“My favorite boots?”While I raise my brows, Suds explains the custom stitching and added leather.
“Should you ever lose your pistol, I want my danger magnet prepared.” He shows how the knife fits in the sheath. “The guys have agreed to give you lessons, too.”
My eyes tear as I hug him.“Best gift ever. Thank you.”
After we kiss, I hand him his present.“This one is yours.”
Finding him a gift is almost impossible, but I’m pretty sure I nailed it. At first, Seb’s brows shoot together, and his frown seems confused.
Then, his eyes widen as he reads the instructions and pulls out the father-son Saint Christopher medal necklaces. “They have built-in GPS?”
“Uh-huh. And a tracking app. I will never lose him, or you, again.” My arms slip around him and hug so tight, it hurts.
When we let go, both sets of eyes are damp. Things could’ve gone so differently but they didn’t. Should someone ever try to take our kid again, we will be ready.
Done with Christmas’ first act, we eat breakfast. Stilltoo early for morning mass, we watch the brand-new dinosaur show. Surprise, surprise, neitherMom nor Dad can download the old one.
Being four, Mikey believes us.
Hours later, we sit at the front of the church. Father O’Connell’s sermon starts out like most. Peopleshould focus more on God’s love and less on material things. At this point, he touches on 'love thy neighbor', which leads him to marriage vows, chastity, and he takes a detour to when he was only a boy, growing up in Hell’s Kitchen and didn’t have any daily bread but found forgiveness. Holy shit, I have no idea where else he went, because I fell sound asleep.
Suds' clapping wakes me up.
Horrified, I trap his hands and kiss them.“Honey, stop. Catholics don’t applaud.”
“Well, you should. Monsignor is a true master.”The unapologetic grin tells me he did it on purpose.
“Add it to the pope’s suggestion box next time we’re in the Vatican.”Standing, we singGloria in Excelsis.
The rest of the mass passes in a blur, and after a final Noel, we walk back to my parent’s house for more presents and more breakfast. Despite my warnings, my parents have spoiled my kid with so much stuff, I’ll need to rent a storage unit.
After we all arrive at the Russo's, it’s time for turkey. Four generations grab plates and sit on stairs, chairs, or cross-legged on the floor.
Having confessed my pregnancy at the Patten party, I clink my spoon on my empty wine glass.“Excuse me.Attenzione per favore.”
Everyone quiets down, while I take my husband’s hand and suck in a deep breath.“Suds and I are officially expecting baby number two.”
As due dates are debated, and gender bets are made, I slump on the couch.“Thank God, it’s over.”
“Not quite.” Moving a magazine, my hubby displays the bulge under his fly. “Isn't it time to deck the halls with balls of holly?”
“Boughs, and for the record, I don’t believe trees have nuts.”Grinning at Sebastian, I shake my head, so he nibbles my ear, sending chills down my back.
“Actually, they do. Not only that, it takes a male and a female bush to make holly berries.”
Turning, I kiss his gingerbread flavored lips.“Are you talking about the actress who played Catwoman?”
His eyes crinkle at the corners.“No, she’s hah-lee. I mean like in theHolly and the Ivy.”
“Yuck, I hate that carol.”My hands reach behind his neck, and I ruffle his untrimmed hair.
“Why?”
“To rhyme withrunning of the deer, the chorus would need to saysweet singing in the queer,notchoir. Makes no sense at all.”My brows raise, waiting for his comeback.
