Page 81 of Just A Little Joy

He’d been busy. French toast sat assembled on a baking sheet, and the counters were covered in cookie stations.

“Uh, sweetheart, what’s going on in here?”

“Baking.” He shrugged, like that explained the universe.

“But why?”

“’Cause it’s Christmas, Daddy, and you gotta bake cookies, or Santa won’t come. You didn’t have any. So I’m helping.”

“Can you bake as well as you cook?”

“Yeppers.” Not a hint of doubt.

“Then bring on the cookies.” He giggled and added the finishing touches to the French toast. “How did I sleep through all this?”

“I dunno, Daddy, but…” He dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You was snoring.”

“What? No. I don’t do that. Do I?”

“You do, but I still like you.”

“A little bit or a lot bit?”

“A lot bit. A super-duper lot bit.”

“I’ll take it.” I kissed his cheek.

He settled back against me so I could hold his weight. It felt right. Simple. Warm. Nothing dramatic. Just us being domestic. I didn’t want anything more.

After breakfast, we got busy. Casey let me help organize the next steps of his cookie plan, which mostly meant him telling me what to do and me doing my best. Once the dough that needed chilling was in the fridge, Casey announced it was time for the tree.

“I started with colors, but I’m pretty sure I have white lights too. Which do you want?” I asked.

“Oh, lights with colors, Daddy. They’s the prettiest. I like rainbows.” He bounced and clapped like he might launch into space. While he untangled the next strand, I dug out ornaments. We worked in tandem, singing along with Christmas carols.

When I found a gingerbread house ornament, I started thinking about Casey’s living situation. He told me he’d already given notice on his sublet and someone else was moving in. His stuff had to be out by the first. We had a few days, but not many, not with the holidays. He’d need a new place. I’d help him move. That part was easy. Finding a place was not. And when he said our house this morning, I had been too stunned to ask more. My heart had taken it one way. I wanted him with me, even if it meant the spare room.

I held up the ornament. “Hey, bub. I know you travel light, but do you think your stuff will fit in this gingerbread house?”

“I wish, Daddy, but maybe I can fit a thing or two in there,” he answered with mock seriousness, head tilted, brown eyes shining in the lights.

“Do you remember how you called it our house?”

“Yeah, Daddy. I do.”

“I don’t know if you meant it the way I wanted to take it. But I’d really like it if you moved in with me. You don’t have to move into my bedroom. You can take the spare room. We can be roommates and boyfriends. I want you here.”

“Okay,” he said with an easy shrug.

“Well, hell. If I’d known it was gonna be that easy, I’d have said something sooner.”

Casey giggled, the kind that built in his chest until it burst out in a full guffaw. The sound shook his whole body and set off my laugh.

“Bub, you gotta tell me the joke.”

“Unless someone stole it, my whole life is on the porch.”

My mouth fell open. Nice neighborhood or not, that was pushing our luck. I hurried to the front door with him close behind.