Page 31 of All in for Christmas

I wake up hugely happy and—I peer under the covers.

—naked. I’m not wearing a thing, not even my Monday thong.

Oh! There it is on the floor beside the bed.

The bedroom door pops open. Eleanor! I snatch the undergarment off the floor and tuck it down under the covers beside me, wriggling it on.

Backward. Ugh. That’s no good. I scoot if off my ankles, and kick, kick, kick with my feet, turning it around. Dean’s awake now, too.

I peek beneath the sheets. Also naked. Oh wow , no wonder I’m happy.

Okay, focus on the kids. I blink as Henry barrels into the room.

“Merry Kissmas!” he cries, pouncing onto the bed.

Oof . Dean pulls on his sweatpants under the covers.

He sneakily hands me his T-shirt and I peer at him in our dark tent.

Henry bounces above us. Elbows and knees. Sharp edges. “I’m hungry!”

A heavier bounce. “Mommy! Daddy! It’s snowing!” That’s Eleanor.

Dean tugs up the covers above us and I slip his T-shirt over my head. Manage to get it on. Wait. My arm is stuck. “What are you doing?” Eleanor asks, trying to pull back the sheets.

“Waking up!” Dean hollers back to her. He tries to help by grappling for my elbow, but he shoves it in the wrong direction.

“ Ouch ,” I whisper. “ Dean .”

“ Woof! Woof! ” That’s Scout—trampling my legs. Dean helps me tug down the T-shirt. My face flames as we finally peel back the covers and I stare at the kids. Sit upright in bed. Straighten the covers. Dean does the same. “Morning, everyone!”

“Mommy! Yay!” Henry throws his arms around my neck, knocking me backward toward the headboard. A stash of pillows catches us.

Eleanor sits back on her knees, her pink nightie bunched up. “Do we have school today?”

“School?” Dean’s eyes grow wide as he stares at the clock. “Yikes! We’re late!”

“Merry Kissmas!” Henry yells into my ear.

He kisses my cheek. A sloppy wet kiss. So sweet.

Though my head smarts from his yelling. Or maybe it was the wine.

We opened a second bottle. Scout prances up to Dean and the mattress sags beneath him.

He drops the wet rolled-up newspaper sleeve in Dean’s lap.

“Good boy!” Dean pats his head and glances at me. “We’ve got to get going.”

“Right!” We scoot the kids and dog off the bed, and I yank up the covers, dumping the clothes basket on the bed.

Why haven’t we folded anything? Is this how we live?

Dean races for the coffee pot to switch it on.

God love him. Scout doesn’t know who to follow, Dean or me. He darts back and forth, barking.

“Can I wear red?” Eleanor asks, pointing to some stretch pants and a Christmas top.

“Of course you can!”

I hunt for something for Henry.

“I have to pee!” He’s got his hands on his pajama pants over his crotch.

“Hold it!” I hurry him along into the bathroom. “Eleanor, can you grab your and Henry’s backpacks and take them into the kitchen?”

“On it!” she says like the very grown-up person she’s not. She races out of the room in her pink nightie and Scout runs after her. “ Woof! Woof! ”

I herd Henry into the hall bathroom, find the toilet targets, drop one in the bowl.

Whew! We make it just in time. Then I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror over the sink.

Who is that ridiculously happy women with the pink-tinted layered hair?

Oh yeah. Me. I feel like I’ve been hit by a wild tornado. The storm of a different reality.

But I’m kind of digging it, truthfully.

Now I know why Dean calls me “tiger.”

I was like a wild animal last night. Grrr.

Okay, we both were.

And I’m still throbbing everywhere.

Pleasantly.

I try hard not to squeal at my reflection.

Life is good.

We’re dressed and in our coats, halfway out the door. “Let’s ride together again,” Dean says. “Since it’s a half day and we’re both getting off early. That will make it easy to stop by the phone store.”

I huff and puff, hauling the kids and their stuff along. “Sounds good.” I check my coat pocket to be sure my cell phone is where I put it earlier.

“Wait!” Eleanor wails and we all freeze. “We forgot the calendar.”

“She’s right,” Dean says. “We should do it. But quickly!”

We hurry back into the kitchen en masse. “Whose turn is it?” Dean asks.

I wheeze, breathing heavily, hands on my knees. “I’ve lost track. Eleanor?” I stare at the girl. She shrugs in her pom-pom hat.

“Henry?” He holds up his baby blue mittens.

“You do it,” Dean says in brisk tones.

I locate the item for Day Twenty-Three in the pocket. It’s a pretty Christmas candle with a holly design on the candlestick base. “What can this have to do with the future?” I ask Dean.

“No idea.” He nods at the calendar, and I press the decoration onto it.

“Okay.” Dean smiles at our group. “Let’s rock and roll!”

“Are you and Mommy going to sing again?” Eleanor asks as we hurry toward the door.

“I think we should all sing,” Dean tells her. He starts a chorus of, “Jingle bells, jingle bells—”

Eleanor and I join in. “Jingle all the way!”

Scout barks happily by the tree and tries to come with us.

“Sorry, boy,” Dean tells him, pulling the door closed. “We’ll be home soon.”

“Jingle bell!” Henry says thirty seconds too late on the front porch.

“That’s right, Henry,” I say and hug him hard. “Very good!”

Dean and I stare at the wall of shiny new cell phones, getting discouraged.

The price tags have soared since the last time I bought one, but that doesn’t deter the crowd of others clamoring toward displays to get closer looks.

Dean holds Henry in his arms and Eleanor stands between us.

We’re waiting on the sales associate to return from the back room where he’s testing my phone.

He finally arrives and hands me my cell phone.

The guy’s tall and thin and wears a black collared shirt. “I’m sorry to say it’s a goner.”

“Already?” I gasp. “It’s not that old.”

The sales associate winces. “Sorry. That model hasn’t been made in five.”

“Months?” I ask.

“Years,” the salesperson replies with a grimace.

Dean heaves a deep breath. “We should get you another.” He’s trying to look solid, but he’s gone a bit pale.

I know what he’s thinking. It’s the holidays and we already have extra expenses.

I haven’t seen any Santa gifts around the house but suspect we must have some hidden somewhere.

We’re the kind of parents who’d dote on their kids, even if it meant running up the credit cards during the season.

But buying a new cell phone is something else.

“I suppose we could finance through the store?”

“I don’t know, Dean.”

“It’s not exactly like you can be without a phone,” he argues reasonably. “The daycare might need to reach you about the kids, when they can’t reach me. We both need to be available.”

“They could always call the school.”

“Yeah, but. We’re not always at school.” He sighs and says sweetly, “Paige. We need this.”

The sales associate senses our financial predicament. “You could try buying a refurbished phone online?” he suggests kindly. “You can get some really great deals, I hear.”

Dean and I exchange a look. “That could work,” he says. “What do you think?”

“Let’s check online when we get home.”

Dean and I sit at the kitchen table later with our coffee, looking up secondhand cell phones.

The light snow that was falling this morning and earlier today has stopped, and a fresh pretty blanket of white covers the fenced backyard visible through the window.

Scout snoozes by our feet and both kids are napping.

“What about this one?” he asks, pointing to a sleek model. “It’s only a year old.”

I frown. “Are you sure we can afford it?”

He gently lays his hand on my arm. “We can’t not afford it, Paige. Your having a phone is a safety concern, not just for the kids but also for you.”

I nod and check the cell phone’s price. It’s less than half the cost of a similar phone we saw at the store.

“It can be here by Friday,” he says. “The day after Christmas.”

“Dean?” I ask. “About the kids and Christmas. Their Santa gifts—”

“No sense worrying about what we spent when they’re all taken care of and paid off.”

“What?”

“Like you insisted.” He squints at me. “I guess knowing what we know now, it’s a good thing we bought early this year and charged it with the plan to chip away at the balance and get it cleared before Christmas, huh.”

I square my shoulders. “How responsible of us.”

He smiles warmly. “I can’t imagine how bad off we’d be if you weren’t managing our family finances.” Oh my gosh, our paltry bank balance is my fault?

I press my lips together. “I checked our account balances on Sunday. It honestly doesn’t seem like we’re doing that great.”

He takes my hand. “Are you kidding me? A family of four with a house of our own and two paid-off cars. Honey.” He squeezes my hand. “We’re doing fantastic.” His eyes sparkle. “Just think of all we have.”

My heart brims so full with all the blessings, and I concede we have a lot. “So the kids’ Santa gifts? Are you sure they’re enough?”

He nods. “Eleanor’s getting what she wanted. The new bike with training wheels. And Henry’s getting his Hot Shot.”

Hot Shot? “Er, nice! I bet he’ll love that!”

“Yeah.” Dean chuckles. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t tear up the house. We’ll need to be sure he rides it outside.”

Ahhh. It’s some kind of vehicle? “I’m so excited for Henry and Eleanor both! We ordered so long ago, I’ve nearly forgotten the details.”

“Oh, here!” Dean checks his computer bookmarks and pulls up some links.

One showcases a small red bike with a sparkly seat and training wheels.

Colorful streamers hang from the handlebars, and there’s a darling basket in front with plastic daisies on it.

I can see we purchased a kiddy bike helmet with it.

“Aw, she’ll love that.”