Page 109 of Oathbreaker

Then nods.

I straighten and we close the gap that’s opened up between us and the next family in line, and she’s reviewing her carefully written list as Colt comes back with the coffees he left to snag for us.

Because our girl needed to get to Santa first thing this morning.

And she certainly didn’t care that he and I had been up late last night—very late—going through our own list.

And one that’s entirely filled with things that bring us both pleasure.

“All good?” he asks as we sip and keep shuffling forward.

“Frankie’s in deep introspection about her list for Santa.”

“Why’s that?”

Frankie doesn’t even look up from the paper she’s perusing. “Because I don’t want Santa to bring me underwear.”

Colt’s mouth drops open.

I stifle my laughter as I lift on tiptoe and murmur in his ear, “I’ll explain later.”

“I’m not sure I want to know.” He tugs a lock of my hair.

“You do,” I say. “Because it’s about our daughter.”

His face goes soft. “Yeah, baby,” he says. “You’re right. I want to know.”

“I love you,” I whisper.

“I love you too,” he whispers back.

“Santa,” I hear Frankie say. “I’ve been a very good girl this year so can you not bring me underwear?”

Colt looks at me.

I look at him.

Then we both start laughing.

And I do it thinking that life can’t get any better.

The next week, exhausted after a long—and messy—night of helping Frankie decorate cookies for her preschool teachers and aides (which means there were a lot of cookies to decorate), Colt almost immediately falls asleep next to me.

I get it, Frankie’s a lot. This time of year is a lot.

And he’s been killing himself to do it all…and to do it all big.

Hitting the gym to get his strength back.

Learning the ropes from Dash to see if he wants to buy into Dash’s security company.

Volunteering at the school gingerbread house decorating event.

Decorating our ginormous tree with a truly absurd amount of lights and ornaments and tinsel.

Spending hours shopping for Christmas presents and then wrapping them carefully and arranging them under the tree.

I’ve tried to remind him that he has time, that he doesn’t have to cram it all in at once.