Page 12 of The Omega's Beary Merry Christmas

I took off my boot to remove my wet sock, hoping it would make me more comfortable. I had half a mind to wrap my foot in plastic wrap so it wouldn’t be wet next trip. It would still be cold, but there wasn’t anything I could do about that.

Bert released a full-on growl. It wasn’t scary but told me he meant business. “I’m getting the rest.”

“No, I can help. I just needed to take this sock off. It’s soaking wet, and this—”

“No. Stay here. I’ll get the rest.” Off he went.

“He’s kind of bossy, Daddy.” Natalie took her backpack off. “I think he needs to dance with the fairies.”

“He’s just trying to be helpful, sweet girl. Now, let’s go put everything in the fridge.”

“You can be helpful and dance with the fairies.”

We managed to fit everything in the fridge, despite it already being stocked with food. By the time we were done, Bert was back with the suitcases. One last trip, and everything was here.

He kicked the snow off his boots and left them by the door.

“Here’s the spare bedroom.” He opened the door. “I don’t have a lot of company, but it’s comfortable.”

“Thanks.”

“I was just about to make dinner. Will you join me?” It was a question, which was refreshing. He was no longer in bossy mode.

“We brought food.” I didn’t want him to think he had to treat us like houseguests. We weren’t company. We were the people who were stuck here, and the two were not the same.

“I’m aware. It’s nothing fancy—just pasta with homemade sauce from my pantry and bread.”

“I love spaghetti.” Natalie twirled.

“I thought so.” Bert smiled. “Get settled in while I finish it up. It’s nothing difficult, just boiling water.”

I set up the bed for Natalie. She was exhausted, and I doubted she’d make it through dinner. The room was comfy and warm. For sure better than the haunted motel.

We went back out, and I helped set the small table. When Bert said the sauce was homemade, he meant it—it was jarred up and smelled delicious. We talked about our trip, and Natalie, being Natalie, overshared a bit.

“We were supposed to go to the beach,” she explained. “We were gonna go to the beach with Father, but…”

I wanted to change the subject but refused to ever tell her not to talk about her father, even if that was going to make dinner a bit awkward.

She watched Bert’s face as she was talking, and I wasn’t sure what she saw there, but something had her changing her mind about the direction of the conversation. “This is good, too, because I’m going to make a snow castle—maybe two, maybe five—and then the bear will come dance with me.”

She was so focused on that bear.

“I’m down for snow castles.” He handed her a napkin. She probably needed five.

After dinner, she fell asleep before I finished the first chapter of the book I brought. She’d handled a really long day like a boss.

I insisted on washing the dishes, following theyou cook, I cleanrule I made up on the spot.

“Thanks,” he said. “I’m going to bring in some more firewood.”

I actually liked washing dishes by hand. Was that weird? Probably. But it was rewarding and relaxing to me. I was so lost in them I didn’t even hear Bert coming in.

“I don’t mean to overstep.” Bert leaned back against the counter. “But about what Natalie said about the beach…”

“You caught that, did you?”

He nodded.

---