Page 16 of Dad Bod Secret Santa

MAGGIE

So… are we getting a gift for Hank?” Wendy’s question snaps me out of my daydream about Hank and finishing what we started in front of the fireplace on Friday night.

We’re in the candle store at the mall, waiting while she picks out a gift for Vivian. If I never smell cinnamon again, it might be too soon.

“Oh, I don’t know, sweetie,” I say, keeping my voice light. “Did you have something in mind?”

“I don’t know,” she replies, heading to the register with a pretty candle. “Socks? A sweater?”

“Hm,” I consider the suggestion as the cashier rings up the gift. “A sweater isn’t a bad idea. It’s practical, and he’s a practical man.” It’s also personal without being too forward.

I’d thought about buying him a bottle of good whiskey as a thank-you for letting us stay with him and Vivian, but a sweater is safer. I hoped he would ask me to stay after I found out our power was back, but it was like our words were frozen. Doubtscrept in and made me think the hot and heavy make-out sessions were just that, not filled with deeper longings and meanings for both of us.

Claire would say I’m overthinking things. But I don’t know what to do.

“Then let’s do that,” Wendy says, grabbing my hand and dragging me toward the closest department store. “I see the way you look at him. All…mushy.”

My cheeks heat, and I press my lips together, trying to stifle a smile. “Mushy? Wendy, you’re ridiculous.”

She laughs, rolling her eyes as if I’m the one missing the obvious. “No, I’m serious, Mom. You don’t think I can see it, but you’re, like,superobvious.”

I try to keep my expression neutral, though her words make my heart pound. It’s one thing to admit that I have feelings for Hank in quiet moments alone, but it’s another to hear it from my own daughter. “Well, maybe I’m just…you know, enjoying his company. We’ve all been through a lot this year, and it’s nice to be around someone who’s…kind.”

Wendy tilts her head, that thoughtful expression returning, and her gaze softens the way it does when she’s trying to understand something bigger. “You mean, how I like being around Vivian? Like that?”

The comparison makes me smile, and I nod. “Sort of, yes. But grown-up friendships are a little more complicated.”

She sighs, tugging my arm and steering us toward an aisle filled with tools and outdoor gear. There’s an ease to her voice, an assurance that catches me off guard. “You’re overthinking it,Mom. I mean, he makes you smile. And you make him smile. Viv says she’s never seen him as happy as he was when we were staying with them.”

I take a breath, her words sinking in. She’s not wrong. Hank’s kindness and easygoing nature are a far cry from what I’ve known, and I can’t deny that he makes me feel seen, desired, beautiful. But I don’t want to unload these thoughts on Wendy. Instead, I give her a playful nudge. “Oh, are you the relationship expert now?”

She grins, undeterred. “Maybe.” She beams up at me, all spark and mischief. “So, are we getting him something or not?”

I glance at the sweaters on display and reach for a thick wool sweater with a dark green and blue pattern. The wool is heavy and looks perfect for keeping Hank warm when he’s working outdoors. I pick it up and turn to face Wendy. “What do you think?”

Wendy’s eyes light up in approval, her excitement contagious. “Perfect! He’ll like it because it’s from you.”

Orfrom us, I think, my heart warming at the idea of giving him a gift together. It’s simple and practical, but it feels like more than just a way to thank him for helping us while our power was out.

As we stand in line to pay for the sweater, Wendy asks if she can go off to get another gift.

“We’ll be through this line in a minute,” I say, distracted as I wonder if we have food at home or if we should go out to eat tonight.

“It’s,” Wendy pauses, which gets my attention. “It’s something special.”

It clicks, and I realize it’s probably a gift for me. Thankfully, everyone else is taken care of because I can’t take these mall crowds much longer.

I reach into my purse, pull out a couple of twenties, and hand them to Wendy. “Is this enough?”

She takes one of the twenties and smiles. “Thanks! I’ll meet you in the food court in twenty minutes. It won’t take long!”

“Okay,” I say, watching my daughter practically run out of the store, wondering what she’s getting up to.

After Wendy is finallyin bed, I grab a bottle of wine and settle on the couch to catch up on wrapping gifts and looking at the Christmas card I bought for Hank.

I thought it would be strange when we went to stay with Hank and his daughter, but now it feels stranger to be back in our house, just Wendy and me. It’d be a lie to say anything other than how much I miss Hank and Vivian, even if Wendy and Vivian together was like a sugar rush twenty-four-seven. The quiet is nice…but it’s too much.

How quickly what I prefer has changed, I think as I top up my glass of wine.

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