Page 29 of All in for Christmas

Dean holds my glove in his, and we glide around the ice, going faster and faster, weaving in and out of other skaters, and with each turn around the rink, my spirits grow lighter.

No sense in fretting over things that may come, when I can’t control them.

The key lies in listening to Mary Christmas and truly learning to enjoy .

And I am enjoying this outing, so much. It’s fun to cut loose and have this wintertime adventure with my family.

I laugh, feeling carefree. “This is great!” I call as winds muffle our voices.

“So much fun!” We went on lots of ice skating dates in college, so this is a natural for us.

“Yeah!” Dean concurs. “Thanks to Missy for the tickets!”

“Thank you, Missy!” I call out into the night. Dean holds my hand tighter, then suddenly he slows, dragging me over to the side of the rink, by the railing.

“Dean? What is it?” I see Mom and Roger on the far side of the rink with the kids on their park bench, chatting happily and chomping down on their chili dogs. Henry sits on Mom’s lap and Eleanor sits in the middle, between Mom and Roger. They form a picturesque group in their winter hats and coats.

He pulls me toward him in a hug, my bulky coat pressed against his. “I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Oh yeah, what?” Skaters bustle past us, obscuring Mom and Roger and the kids from view. Dean’s head dips toward me, his mouth hovering over mine. My heart skips a beat at the dreamy look in his eyes. The nearness of his kiss. And suddenly, I so badly want him to kiss me.

“Paige Burton,” he says. “Will you go out with me?”

My cheeks warm. “Aren’t we already going out?”

He glances around the crowded ice skating rink.

“You mean here?” He shakes his head. “I mean on a real date , just the two of us.” His gaze washes over me, filling me with so much contentment and joy.

What if there were no other reality and this was my new world forever?

Could I adjust to the transition? Three days ago, I thought not, but now my life is changing. I’m changing.

A lump forms in my throat and I glance at Mom sitting on the park bench with the kids and Roger.

Mary Christmas said she couldn’t promise what would happen to Mom if I go back to the other realm, or my program if I stay here.

And yet, I’m frustratingly not being offered a real choice here, am I?

And since I’m not, I’ll just have to make the most of each moment I’m here until I learn where I’m bound to stay.

I stare up at my handsome husband and his dark eyes dance. “There’s nothing I’d love more than going out with you,” I say, meaning it absolutely. How could I not want to spend time alone with this totally amazing man? I tilt my chin and quip, “On a real date.”

Dean brings his lips to mine in the sweetest, most tender kiss. “Good.”

“When?” His arms are still around me. Others skating by are starting to stare, or sneak glances our way. Do they imagine us as new lovers? It kind of feels like we are. Brand new yet familiar. Wonderful and warm.

“How about tomorrow?”

I gasp because that’s so unplanned. Practically spontaneous, and how much spontaneity can an always-planning woman take in one week?

Still. I suppose I am being given twenty-four hours’ notice, and—assuming I’m still here tomorrow—my schedule’s clear.

My stomach quivers with excitement over going out with Dean.

Just the two of us, like a serious romantic couple. “What about Henry and Eleanor?”

“I already spoke with my folks,” he says. “They’re coming over to babysit.”

“Then it sounds like we’re set.”

He holds me close and kisses me again. “I was hoping you’d say that, because I’ve got a special surprise.”

“Oh?” My heart beats erratically. Is he giving me an early Christmas gift?

I’ve got almost nothing for him. Just a simple coffee mug.

I stare across the town square and past the holiday market.

Though I can’t see Second Chances from here, I know that it’s there, holding that telescope in its front window.

How I wish I could find a way to buy it for Dean. “What is it?”

“Now, I can’t tell you that, can I?” He kisses the top of my head. “Then it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

We have a great rest of the evening, and it’s not long before the kids are worn out and ready for bed.

Dean tucks Henry under the covers and settles the blankets around his shoulders, laying the storybook he’s been reading on the nightstand.

Henry’s just moved up to his “big boy bed,” apparently.

After his crib, we kept his mattress on the floor for a while before adding the low bed frame that resembles a yellow and red race car.

Toy cars line the shelving along one wall.

These were Dean’s when he was a kid, and his parents saved them.

He recently passed them on to Henry, once Henry was old enough to understand he wasn’t meant to eat them.

“Didn’t make it to the end of the book?” I ask Dean from the doorway.

He tiptoes out of the room, turning off the light. “We can finish tomorrow.”

Eleanor holds my hand in the hall. “Can I have a story, too?” She’s dressed in a cute pink flannel nightie with a dainty silk white bow at the neckline and buttons on the bodice.

The nightie is long, falling past her ankles and nearly to her fluffy puppy-dog-face slippers.

She still wears her pigtails, but they’re pulling apart in places after her busy day.

“You bet you can,” I tell her, “but first let’s brush your hair.”

We already brushed her teeth in the bathroom after finishing up her bubble bath.

Dean gave Henry a quick bath first, taking pains not to linger since the boy’s eyelids were drooping already.

Dean creeps toward the hallway, leaving Henry’s door partially ajar.

“Should I build us a fire?” He views me longingly. “I can open some wine?”

“That sounds really good.” I consider my sterile condo with its gas fireplace and where I have only Elroy for company.

I shake my head at the thought. A robotic dog.

Then I see our real dog, Scout, curled up in the center of Eleanor’s bed.

I place a hand on my hip and scold him. “Scout! What are you doing?”

He lazily lifts his head and blinks, having been roused out of his slumber.

“He’s sleeping, Mommy,” Eleanor informs me.

“I see that,” I tell the girl. “Only, Scout’s not supposed to sleep here. He’s got his own bed in Mommy and Daddy’s room.”

Eleanor covers her mouth and giggles. Scout hops off her bed and trots over before sitting down at her feet. He cocks his head and says, “ Woof! ”

Eleanor and I both shush him on account of Henry.

Eleanor holds a finger against her lips. “Don’t tell, Scout,” she whispers. “It’s a secret.”

I sagely scan the girl. “What kind of secret, Eleanor?”

She shrugs and says sweetly, “Sometimes, when you and Daddy are sleeping, Scout comes in here and sleeps with me.”

“On your bed?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And you like that?”

“Oh yeah,” she says seriously. “Scout’s my best friend.”

I laugh and hug her, not sure of what else to do.

If this is already a habit between them, it’s going to be hard to break.

We keep Scout clean and bathed. He stays on flea prevention medication, too.

I wrinkle up my nose and tell her, “I’ll have to talk to Daddy and be sure he thinks it’s all right. We’ll both have to agree.”

She nods like she expected this response and respects it. Evidently Dean and I present a united front before the kids. “Okay, Mommy.”

I lift her hair brush off her dresser. “Now, come here,” I say gently.

“Let’s undo those pigtails and run a brush through your hair.

” She stands facing the mirror as I brush out her long brown hair, her pretty, dark eyes gleaming back at me.

She reminds me so much of Dean in miniature, it’s uncanny.

My heart swells with pride that we made her, and that I had something to do with the outcome.

She’s bright and as cute as a button. My little girl .

A lead weight settles in my stomach.

The child I’d lose by leaving here.

I’d also lose Henry. Baby heartthrob that he is. So precious.

What about Mom and Roger? They seem so good together here, but their fate’s uncertain in the other world. So is mine—and Dean’s. Tears prickle the backs of my eyes. Even though Dean and I are single in the other reality, I don’t know how I could ever explain to Dean what I’ve learned by being here.

Scout’s interest in the hair-brushing session wanes, and he goes off to find Dean in the living room.

Meanwhile, I pull back Eleanor’s covers and help her scoot into bed in a sitting-up position.

I note the selection of books on the short bookshelf beneath her window.

“Which one shall it be tonight?” I ask her.

She points to the top shelf. “The one about the princess!” she says eagerly.

I trace my finger along the book spines. Princess. Princess.

“That one!” she says, and I stop. Pull out the book and remove it from the shelf.

It’s got a lovely, illustrated cover with a princess commanding a schooner, standing at the ship’s wheel like a formidable captain. She wears a tiara but is dressed like a pirate otherwise. “This one looks adventuresome,” I tell her.

Eleanor bubbles excitedly as I walk over, “She lives on a boat like Grandma’s going to do.”

I sigh, resigned to this outcome. “Your grandma’s adventuresome, too.”

Eleanor stares up at me with love in her eyes. “So are you, Mommy.”

She doesn’t know how wrong she is. I’m the person who always plays it safe and never takes chances. Until now.

“What makes you say that, Eleanor?”

Her grin lights up every dark corner of the room. “You said marrying Daddy was your greatest a’venture of all!”

“Did I?” A tear leaks from my eye, and I wipe it back. “Oh.”