Page 67 of The Holiday Games

“You think he’s a boy?” I ask, my heart skipping a beat as he kicks at my palm, as energetic as he always is this time of night.

She covers my hand with hers, smiling as Bump shifts again. “That’s what Gran said when we were home for Thanksgiving. She said I was carrying too low for it to be a girl.”

“That sounds scientific.”

Caroline laughs. “Very. But Gran’s never guessed wrong before. She predicted the sex of both of Vivian’s kids.”

I grunt. “How is the whackiest relative in Reindeer Corners?”

Vivian’s easier to manage now that she’s been in therapy for going on two years, but she’ll never be my favorite person. There’s too much water under the bridge between us for that. Though family holidays are far less awkward than I feared when Caroline and I first got together.

Vivian even came to our wedding nearly two years ago today. She left before the reception, but she was there in the church inReindeer Corners when we said our “I dos,” a show of support that I know meant a lot to Caroline.

“Vivian is fine.” The love of my life arches a wry brow. “But definitely still whacky. She just dropped two thousand dollars on penis pop candy molds for the maple syrup shop. She’s convinced that she’s going to take the Vermont bachelorette party business by storm.”

I sigh. “She probably will. She’s lucky that way.”

“Not as lucky as I am,” Caroline says, pressing up on tiptoe to kiss my cheek. “Kettle corn. We have to go now if we’re going to get there before they close.”

I hug her close, pressing my lips to her forehead before taking her mittened hand in mine. “Understood. Let’s go, missy. The sooner we get corn, the sooner we can get home to our bed.”

Her eyes glitter. “Bed sounds good.”

“So good,” I agree, endlessly grateful that my wife’s pregnancy cravings extend to my cock.

I’m a lucky man. Luckier than I ever thought I could be a little over two years ago, when I was trapped in reality show hell and crawled into a plastic igloo with an angel.

Caroline saved me. And Greg. And my hope for the future.

“Do you still want to rent a room on Martha’s Vineyard for Ainsley and Trevor’s wedding?” I ask. “Even though we’ll have Bump by then?”

“Of course. We can’t miss their wedding. We should rent two rooms and bring Gran. She’d be happy to watch the baby during the wedding in exchange for a lazy Sunday on the beach.”

“Sounds good,” I say. “I’ll book the rooms and get the cat sitter set up.”

“And I’ll talk to Gran.” Caroline sighs happily as we start down the snow-dusted city street, surrounded by the sound of holiday carols drifting from bars and people laughing over their Christmas Eve dinners in warmly lit West Village restaurants.“Want to get a tree on the way home, too? They’re on sale, and Greg enjoyed tearing the tree apart so much last year. I hate to deprive him of his holiday fun just because we’ve been too busy with the show to decorate.”

“Only if we decorate it with the non-breakable ornaments,” I say. “I was afraid he was going to cut his paws on all the glass last year.”

She squeezes my hand. “Still a good cat dad.”

“Hopefully, I’ll be an equally proficient real dad.”

“You will be,” she says, without a second of hesitation. “You’re the best person I know. I love you a ridiculous amount, Leo Fenton.”

My heart overflows again. Maybe it’s the holiday magic or maybe it’s just her, my wonderful wife, but I can’t help the sappy note in my voice as I say, “Same, Caroline Fenton. I don’t want to imagine where I’d be without you.”

She gives a mock shudder. “Oh, no. Never do that. It would be horrible. You’d be so sad.”

“The saddest,” I agree, smiling. “And I’d still be eating sandwiches and stale leftovers for every meal.”

“And much less kettle corn,” she agrees, leaning her head against my shoulder.

We wander through the holiday market, fetching snacks and a few last-minute cat-toy presents for Greg, then catch the subway to our place in Hell’s Kitchen.

Ourplace. Even after almost two years of wedded bliss, it still feels like a miracle.

Nearly as much of a miracle as the fact that my evil cat continues to be a very good boy.

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