Page 23 of The Omega's Beary Merry Christmas

“Well, I’m still grateful.” I turned my head for an awkward kiss and then went back to getting the dinner together.

“Dinner’s in the oven. Let’s go build some snow castles.” I wasn’t exactly sure what they were going to look like, but I was ready.

“I have an idea,” Bert said. “Why don’t you get Natalie, and I’ll grab some pots. If we’re going to make a snow castle, it’s going to be the snow castle of all snow castles.”

I found Natalie sitting on her bed, writing away.

“I made a new list for Santa.” She quickly folded it up. “Do you have an envelope?”

“I don’t, but we can ask Bert after we go outside and play.”

“But, if we wait, then Santa might not get it in time.”

“Santa is made of magic. He’ll get it in time.” That seemed to satisfy her.

She came out as Bert carried a huge stack of pots, pans, and some plastic cooking utensils outside.

“Daddy, are we gonna have to, like, cook on the barbecue instead of playing?”

“We’re not gonna cook on the barbecue.” I ruffled her hair. “Bert is going to help us build the world’s best snow castle.”

That got her moving. She threw on her snow outfit quickly, and we played for nearly an hour. The castle, made by packing snow into pots and flipping them upside down like sand molds at the beach, turned out tall and fabulous.

According to Natalie, it needed finishing in the morning, since the sun was already starting to set, and the chicken was definitely nearly if not already done.

“I’m all wet.” Natalie pointed to her shirt. The water had seeped through her jacket and snow pants. She was soaked.

“You know what that means.”

“It means, I need to take a shower,” she grumbled. Baths were her favorite, but dinner was almost ready, and baths took a while.

“A shower. Do you need me to set it for you?”

“I’m big, Daddy.” She rolled her eyes and went to her room, coming back out less than a minute later with clean clothes and the folded letter. She handed it to Bert.

“Do you have an envelope? I need to get this to Santa before it is too late.”

“Yeah, I have one somewhere. I’ll find it.” He set it on the counter. “Now, hurry up. I want to eat this chicken. It smells delicious.”

She went to take her shower while Bert dug through a drawer to find an envelope.

“So how do we do this?” he asked.

“We address it to Santa at the North Pole. Usually, I either put it in one of the mall Santa mailboxes with her or promise her I’ll mail it on my way to work. What do we do here? There is no mall.”

“I don’t know. Do you think we should read it?”

“Probably.” As she’d gotten older, it felt more invasive, especially after she asked about the beach. “I’ll ask her.”

I went to the bathroom door, the shower no longer on. “Hey, Natalie, can we read your letter?”

“Sure, Dad. The presents are for you anyway.” That caught me off guard. I opened the letter, and Bert read over my shoulder.

Dear Santa,

Can you help Daddy and Bert have a wedding for Christmas? I don’t need to go to the beach. The snow is much more fun.

Love, Natalie.

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