Page 3 of The Omega’s Beary Merry Christmas (A Bear Under The Christmas Tree #1)

Conrad

No swaps that meet your criteria are available. Please widen your search parameters.

I had already widened my search about eighty-two billion trillion gazillion times. There wasn’t any way to open it up more unless traveling-abroad money magically appeared before my eyes. Originally, I just looked for a beach within a one-day drive. Then I thought, well, what about two-days’ drive if I drive while she sleeps and spread it out a little more? I changed the criteria.

Still, nothing.

I added other things, like resort towns and all child-friendly options. I shortened stays.

Still, nothing.

Finally, this morning, I got this response to my wait-list request. It had gotten to the point where it didn’t matter where we went—just getting out of the house would be good enough. I broadened my search to all drivable options, except for adult-only locations.

Still, nothing.

“Oh well, maybe next year.” I closed the app and went to wake Natalie. It was her last day before Christmas break, and, while I might not be able to give her a dream vacation for the holiday, I could at least try my best to give her a happy dad.

She was already sitting up in her bed when I got there, going on and on about her Christmas party. “Mrs. Davis is going to love my present!”

She’d made her a snow globe at a make-and-take activity at the library. It was cute, but I had a feeling Mrs. Davis was going to get quite a few of those this year.

“She will,” I assured her. “Grown-ups love presents from the heart.”

That’s what Mark always called homemade gifts, and I kept the tradition going.

“Now, hurry and get dressed, and I’ll make you pancakes.” They were her favorite.

“Pancakes?” She bounced on her bed. “Really? Can I have syrup?”

“Let’s hold off on the syrup today. Otherwise, you’ll be too sticky for school without a bath.”

She shook her head. “I took a bath last night. I’ll just have butter.” She loved them both ways and didn’t look too sad about it.

In a lot of ways, she was really grown up for a seven-year-old. She had had to be; life kind of mandated it. When it came to eating anything with syrup, though, that girl would get herself covered from head to toe. That’s why we often did pancakes for dinner—because right afterward, she could soak it all off in the tub.

I set her plate on the table just as she swirled into the room wearing her fancy Christmas dress from last year. It was a little short and tight on the arms, but it sparkled and made her feel like a princess.

She was so excited about school, she finished her breakfast in record time. Present in hand, she bounded out of the car ready for the day, and I went to work not quite as ready for mine.

The office was pretty empty—most everyone had already started their Christmas break today. I didn’t blame them. The workload was really slow between now and New Year’s, so coming into the office was basically for those banking vacation days. My vacation aligned with school break, so I’d be out of here soon enough.

I found ways to keep myself busy, mostly reorganizing my desk, until it was time to pick Natalie up from school.

Halfway out the door, my phone buzzed with a notification from the app.

New swap available.

I tapped my phone and opened it. If I was still willing to give up our home in the city for the swap, we could stay in a cabin in the mountains. From the pictures, it looked rustic at best—basically a fancy hunting cabin. I wasn’t sure if that was something Natalie would like, and as much as I wanted to be able to surprise her with a trip, this felt like a decision I needed to run by her.

After school, we went home, had hot cocoa, and held one of our family meetings. I liked making her feel like she had some say in our decisions. Of course, she didn’t know about things like money or car insurance, but for decisions like whether to get a real tree or a fake tree for Christmas, if we should go to the park or the museum, or what color to paint the hallway—her input mattered.

“How was school, Natalie?” On the way home, she’d told me everything about Mrs. Davis and the present, but nothing else. Based on the smile she was still wearing, it had been a good day.

“We had cupcakes, but they didn’t have frosting. Sally’s mom said frosting makes messes.”

They sounded like muffins with a rebranding to me.

“Do you think her mom’s right, Daddy?”

“About frosting making a mess? Yeah, she’s right about that.” But then why not bring cookies? People perplexed me.

“But frosting makes the cupcakes.”

“Are you saying we should make cupcakes this vacation?” I barely got the words out before she was bouncing in her chair.

“With extra frosting.”

“With extra frosting.” The entire jar if she wanted. If Christmas wasn’t a time for sugar overloads, I didn’t know what was.

She drank a sip of cocoa and then went on about her day. They had watched a science movie, played games, and had an assembly where the principal read about a mouse who ate cookies. There was also a spelling test. She didn’t like that part.

One thing about Natalie—she never held back. I wasn’t one of those parents who had to wait until conferences to find out what was going on at school because I knew it all. And I loved it.

She ended with a story about her friend going on vacation to the amusement park with the mouse.

“I don’t think I would like that, Daddy. There are too many people.”

She was right—there were a lot of people there. But also, there were a ton of great things to do. It was on my list of places to take her—when money was better.

“Yeah, but it’s fun. Maybe when you’re older, you’ll want to go.” It was time to bring up the cabin. I crossed my fingers it would make her happy and not sad because it was the wrong location. She was far from a spoiled brat, but disappointment happened.

“Speaking of going places, I have something to ask you. I know you wanted to go to the beach for Christmas…”

She gave me some serious side-eye. “How do you know that, Daddy?”

Oops. I’d forgotten it was part of her Christmas wish list for Santa’s eyes only.

“Because you always want to go.”

That seemed to satisfy her. Thank the gods.

“It’s okay if we don’t, Daddy.” But, for the first time since she got home, the sparkle of pure joy in her eyes was gone.

“Well, I’m glad you are understanding about that because we can’t—not this year. But we can still go away, if you want. There’s a house in the mountains.” I opened the app and showed her the picture. “We could go here for Christmas.”

“Are there bears?”

“Oh, you’ll be safe. If there are any bears, they won’t hurt you.” I hadn’t considered wildlife being a factor in her decision, and I had no idea what was or wasn’t local to the mountains in question.

“I hope there are bears! I want to dance with one!”

That was so not where I’d thought this was going.

“Probably not the wisest idea. Bears aren’t really safe dance partners.”

Her face turned suddenly serious. “The fairies would dance with us too. They would protect me.” She had it all planned out.

I made a mental note not to let her wander too far from the cabin if she wanted us to go, which it sounded like she did.

“So, what do you think? Should we go?”

“Yes!” She jumped up and ran to her room, talking about what to bring. I agreed to the swap.

The next morning, we packed the car with our cooler filled with food, our suitcases, and a few bags of shelf-stable groceries. We were on our way before the sun woke up. It was a ten-hour drive, and we managed to get there just before dinnertime.

The cabin wasn’t as rustic as it had looked in the pictures. There was nothing fancy about it, but we didn’t need fancy. The mountain itself was gorgeous, the drive up not too steep for my poor old car. And, best of all, Natalie was excited. So what if it wasn’t the beach? We were going to have a wonderful Christmas—minus the bear dancing.