Page 1 of Dad Bod Secret Santa

CHAPTER 1

MAGGIE

Mom, let’s watch a movie!”

Wendy’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts as I finish up the last of the dishes after dinner. The smell of cinnamon candles and pine fills the house, thanks to the tree we decorated last weekend, its twinkling lights casting a warm glow over the living room. It’s cozy, even though the wind is howling outside, rattling the windows as the storm kicks up. I lean toward the kitchen window, watching the neighbor’s tall tree sway in the wind, and say a quick prayer that it doesn’t fall on my house tonight.

I glance at my daughter, curled up on the couch with a blanket over her legs, phone in hand. “What movie?” I ask cautiously. She’s twelve going on twenty.

She looks up with a grin. “A Christmas movie, obviously!”

I sigh, knowing exactly where this is going. “Let me guess. Another Hallmark one?”

Her grin widens. “Of course! They’re so cheesy and cute. C’mon, Mom, I know you liked the one we watched last week.”

I laugh softly. When did my daughter get so observant? I thought teens were supposed to be fixated on their own lives.

I sit beside her, the couch dipping under my weight. She snuggles closer, the way she used to when she was little, and hands me the remote.

“Fine,” I say with mock reluctance and hand her the remote. “You pick.”

At least she wants Hallmark and not something too racy or adult. Kids are already growing up too fast.

Wendy doesn’t hesitate. She quickly scrolls through the list of Christmas movies, a grin spreading across her face. In seconds, she lands on one with a pretty woman in a red dress standing in front of a snow-covered town square. Next to her is the perfect guy—handsome, strong-jawed, with that trademark Hallmark gaze that promises everything will turn out perfectly.

As the movie begins, I settle back, anticipating how this will play out. There will be the classic meet-cute, a minor conflict, and then, of course, the inevitable kiss while standing in the most Christmas-y of Christmas settings at the end. The kind of kiss that makes you believe, just for a moment, that love is as easy as it is in these movies.

Wendy’s voice interrupts my thoughts. “I want a romance just like this.”

I look at her, and for a second, my heart tugs. She’s staring at the screen with big, hopeful eyes that haven’t yet been weighed down by reality. She’s only twelve. To her, love still looks like this—a perfect, effortless story with a happily ever after.

“You’re a little young for that,” I sigh. “Love isn’t this easy.”

“I bet it could be,” Wendy challenges.

I stay silent. She has plenty of years to have that bubble burst. I wish love was as simple as in these movies. But it’s not.

As much as I love these movies—these predictable, magical stories where everyone falls in love under twinkling lights and snow-dusted trees—they also make me sad. It’s the women. The way they’re almost always young, thin, and effortlessly beautiful. They wear fitted coats that cinch perfectly at the waist. Their hair is glossy, their makeup flawless, even in a snowstorm.

As if I can relate to any of that.

Wendy shifts beside me, pulling the blanket tighter around her. “When are you going to date again, Mom?”

I freeze. My stomach tightens, and my smile falters.

“I mean... Dad’s been gone a while now. Don’t you think it’s time?” Her voice is soft, almost hesitant, as if she knows this is a sensitive subject for me. I’ve specifically not talked to her about dating or why I haven’t been, despite her father not wasting any time on that front.

“I don’t know, sweetie,” I say slowly, my eyes still on the screen but not seeing it anymore. This is a big conversation that I don’t want to have tonight.

Wendy huffs. “Why isn’t it easy? You’re awesome. You’re a total babe. Guys would line up to date you.”

I laugh, warmed by her naïve view of what dating as a single mom is like. “You’re sweet, but it’s not that simple. Real life isn’t like one of these Hallmark movies.”

The truth is, the last year has been a whirlwind of adjustments. The divorce, moving into this house, getting back into a routine with just the two of us. I’m still figuring out who I am outside of being a wife, outside of the expectations I carried for years.

And then there’s my body.

The body that changed after I had Wendy. The weight I gained during my pregnancy never went away, despite me spending years on and off different diets. And my ex-husband made sure to remind me of that every chance he got.

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