Page 31 of A Daddy for Christmas 3: Nova
“Well, if the waves were gnarly, then I’d have been on the water trying to catch my fair share,” he replied. “When they died off, or I got tired, I’d have headed to the crab shack, pigged out and picked up enough food for tomorrow, then headed home to flop on the couch and do just what we’re doing. Watch a bunch of movies, though I’d have been sad and more than a bit lonely doing it on my own. Your invitation was a gift I’ll always cherish.”
“I feel the same way about your acceptance,” I replied, sighing as we watched the opening of the movie take place. “I live in a city filled with people, and yet, it’s such a lonely place during the holidays. With my friend group being as small as it is and all of us being burned out on overtime and obligations,we might have got together once, for a few hours, the day after Christmas, with some of them hungover or griping about how early they had to go back to the office the next morning. Maybe we’d have made plans for New Year’s Eve, which inevitably would have involved copious amounts of alcohol and me making sure everyone made it onto the right light rail line since I’d have been the only one slightly tipsy instead of straight up staggering and squinting at the rail line map. I guess it would have been fun, because we’d have been hanging out together, but this right here is perfect. Soft, cozy, and relaxing instead of being bombarded by noise.”
We watched half a movie in silence, cuddled up, heads pressed together, his arm around me, chuckling from time to time as the personalities of the characters clashed even as their families began to thaw towards one another.
“I’m going to decorate like that someday,” I muttered. “Cover the house with lights and set up a whole scene on the lawn, with Santa and the reindeer, and even Mrs. Claus holding a tray of cookies.”
“My old man used to be big on putting up the lights,” he replied. “Every year, he’d drag out boxes of them carefully tucked in plastic freezer bags so they wouldn’t get tangled and plug them in to make certain they were working properly before he started hanging them.”
“Was he big on celebrating Christmas?”
Robbie chuckled. “Naa, more like big on avoiding his father-in-law. I don’t think he ever cared much for the holiday itself, but he’d use those lights to avoid having to talk to my grandfather. They never got along, and I never knew if there was a specific reason or if it was just because their personalities clashed. My grandfather was a character; he was always telling stories about his travels and the things he’d seen.”
“Oh yeah, what did he do?”
“He was an investigative reporter and photographer for a globally distributed magazine, and he liked being where the action was,” Robbie explained. “He was pretty much the only one who encouraged me to pursue my professional surfing ambitions, and when I got disinherited by my old man and his family, Gramps helped me out where he could. I think he liked knowing that he was helping me do something that my old man didn’t want me to do.”
“Family members should support and encourage one another, even if they don’t agree with or understand the passions and pursuits that others love.”
“Yeah, that’s how I feel about it too,” Robbie said. “It’s unfortunate that so many are stuck in some belief that if a person doesn’t follow a particular path, they won’t be successful, or they’ll be wasting their lives. Sometimes I wonder if my old man would have learned to relax and look at things from a different perspective if he’d spent time with my grandfather and gotten to really know him and why he was so doggedly determined to pursue a story to the bitter end.”
“Why was it so important to him?”
“Because he felt like the truth deserved to be told and people needed to be protected,” Robbie explained. “He used to say that silence was as detrimental as lies. He knew all the ways that people tried to threaten and intimidate others to keep them from sharing their stories, so he made it a point to make sure their voices were heard, but he was fair about it too; he’d always try to get both sides so he could write a balanced article, but man, he could be a bulldog with a bone if he felt like he was being stonewalled. He knew my old man didn’t care about the lights, but each year he’d go outside and offer to help, and each year my old man would tell him that he could manage just fine, thank you very much. The thing was, Dad sucked at getting those lights up there. Like, he was horrible at it. Every other year somethingwent wrong, from broken windows to him falling off the ladder into one of the rose bushes. And my grandfather, he’d just shake his head and go check on him, only to be told everything was fine.”
“Sounds almost like they had a tradition of their own with all of that.”
“Yeah, it does, doesn’t it,” Robbie said. “I’ve thought about putting up lights, but each time I started to purchase them, I got this nagging feeling like I was heading down my old man’s path and hanging them as a means of avoidance. So I wouldn’t think about the things I was missing in my life. Next year, we should hang them together and assemble that whole scene you’ve been envisioning.”
Rolling, I turned to look at him instead of the screen. “Seriously, are you sure?”
“Yeah, I am. If it’s you and me, then I know I’ll be doing it for all the right reasons, because we’ll be poised to have fun celebrating our second holiday together.”
He tugged me into a kiss as soon as he finished saying it, eyes sparkling with joy when the kiss broke moments later. We’d just settled back in to watch more of the movie when he reached for his soda and chuckled.
“Is that an elf on a lampshade?” he asked, pointing to the small one I’d propped against the wall, its legs dangling over the rim of the shade.
“Yup, but only because I couldn’t get it to stay up on the windowsill with the lights and the garland.”
“I can see where that would be an issue. A hotel room doesn’t offer many places for an elf to roost, but I’m sure I can manage something tonight, so you wake up with it in a new spot in the morning.”
“Ohhh. Yay!” I was giggling when I hugged him. “I’ve always wanted to do the whole elf on a shelf thing and have someone move it around for me to search for in the morning.”
“We’ll have to add that to next year’s list of holiday activities,” he said. “Along with anything else we’ve missed out on experiencing over the years. We’ll make a tradition out of exploring traditions, like decorating gingerbread houses, though I think we might want to start with kits unless you already know how to bake gingerbread. I hear it can be a bit of a challenge.”
“My cookie baking skills start and stop with those premade packs you snap apart and put on a baking sheet,” I explained.
“Kits it is.”
“We should get a few ceramic ones too and pick out a bunch of paints so we can paint them together.”
“Definitely.”
I snagged my can and popped the tab as he did the same with his. Clanking them together felt like sealing a magical Christmas pact.
“You know,” he murmured after he’d taken a sip, if we’re going to make gingerbread houses, then we’ll have to try our hand at decorating a few gingerbread men too.
“With gumdrop buttons?”