Page 65 of The Forecast Looks Like Reindeer

This was our family Christmas tradition. Aspen’s family respected that, despite their tradition of all getting together for Christmas. Because Christmas Eve was our anniversary, we got a pass. We always joined them on New Year’s Day, and that was quite fun.

“If you ever want to celebrate your anniversary as a couple, just the two of you, feel free to leave the kids with us,” Aspen’s mom told us.

We thought about it for all of ten seconds but decided we could never leave the kids alone for Christmas. Every year we celebrated our second anniversary in February alone together—our wedding day—and that was enough. Plus, we had several reliable babysitters we could call whenever we needed them.

That first night at the resort, everyone was hungry, despite multiple snacks on the long drive. We all went to the lodge for dinner. Hollis and Aster walked. I carried Cole, who was a bit grumpy from the trip.

The lodge hadn’t changed at all. The main lobby’s wood floors and walls glowed in the light of the giant fire always dancing in the huge hearth. A big Christmas tree sat in one corner, decked out with shiny ornaments and lights.

Our kids loved running around and checking out all the decorations.

Aster ran up to me. “Can we go to the gift shop after dinner?”

I glanced at Aspen who winced. I was sure she’d gotten the shopping bug from him.

“Maybe. But we’re not shopping. You’re going to be getting enough presents from Santa in a couple of days. Remember?”

Solemnly, she nodded.

Our kids weren’t spoiled. Not exactly. They usually got everything they wanted but not when they wanted it. We wereboth soft-hearted, especially me. I was too easily swayed by big dark reindeer eyes and pleading voices. But I wasn’t the only pushover. Aspen liked to buy toys in the spur of the moment. But we did manage to save much of their wish lists for birthdays and Christmas. They wanted for nothing, but they weren’t entitled.

Our proof that we were doing things fairly right came when Cole’s first word was “please.” We’d never forget that day, especially since Cole was an alpha.

“He’s going to be a kind-hearted man, just like you, Dale,” Aspen had said.

Four years ago, with the birth of our third child, Aspen and I sold both our condos and bought a bigger house. Now each kid could have their own bedroom and a large backyard to play in.

Sometimes there was chaos with three young children. Sometimes there were pitfalls and little commotions. But most times were good if not outright great. Our house was warm and full of laughter. We loved with all our hearts. We soothed every boo-boo and hurt feeling with hugs and soft words. I gave everything to my kids that I was lacking in my own childhood. Aspen gave them all he had brought with him from his own close-knit kin.

I was happy all the time. Well, not when I had to work late, but aside from that, all the time.

Aspen flourished as both a father and a sought-after lawyer. When he made partner at his firm a year ago we paid off the house.

But the best thing of all? We never let our love wane. Our bond was like a bright light between us, always alive, scintillating with pure adoration.

I always desired him. That flame grew high. He was my mate. My Christmas love.

Every year when the snow fell and winter arrived, I always said a little prayer to my favorite season.

“Thank you winter and the coming of the snow. Thank you Winter Wonderland Wilderness Resort for double-booking your rooms that fateful holiday. Thank you to the clerk—sorry I forgot your name—who sent me to the shifter side of the resort for better-suited accommodations. Thank you, Aspen, for kicking the snow drift and making the sidewalk slippery so my fall gave you an excuse to bring me back to our cabin.”

Christmas had become my lucky touchstone where my life expanded from that central point.

I looked down at my daughter in her thick woolen pants, red boots and faux fur-lined jacket. Then at my oldest son who was staring at the star at the top of the lobby’s tree. Then at my youngest boy, now holding Aspen’s hand, his eyes lit up with holiday wonder.

Aspen winked at me.

I smiled.

“You’re going all emotional on me through our bond,” he said.

“Can’t help it. I love this place where everything began for us.” I reached up and rubbed my face.

“Me, too.” With his free hand, he reached out and clasped mine.

Aster put her arms around my waist. Cole turned to face us.

“Daddy. Papa. There’s a light shining between you.”

I reached out and patted his head. “That light’s made for all of us, sweetheart.”

He grinned up at me.

“Now,” I said. “Let’s all go have some dinner.”

THE END