“Oh, that’s the candle I lit in the entryway.”

“So, you made it smell like cookies?”

“Yes.”

“But there are no cookies?”

“Right.”

“What kind of sadistic hell is this?”

“I’ll bake you some cookies.”

“Forget it.” He stalks out. Then stalks back into the entryway, blows out the candle, and glares at me.

He disappears upstairs, and my eyes fall to the girls.

“Daddy’s a little grumpy,” Ella says.

“Why is that?”

“Because all the stores had holiday decorations and crowds. He said he hates Christmas,” she replies.

“Does Daddy really hate Christmas?” Poppy asks. “That would make him the Grinch.”

“I think he just gets sad sometimes without your mom here.”

“Oh,” Ella says. “I didn’t think of that.”

“How do we make him happy again?” Poppy asks.

I stroke her hair from her face. “Just be extra nice to him, I guess.”

Ella’s eyes widen. “Maybe you could bake him cookies for real?”

“What’s his favorite?” I ask.

“Gingersnaps. But I think they’re gross.” Ella makes a face.

“Well, I’ll see if I can find a recipe tomorrow. Did you find a gift for your grandma and grandpa?”

Ella lifts the bag onto the dining table and pulls out a box.

“We got this thing where we can call and talk to them any time we want, and we can see them on video. They’ll have one at their house, and we’ll have one at our house. Daddy said they’d like that if he can teach them how to use it.”

“That sounds like an awesome gift. I’m sure they’re going to love it.”

Ella slumps and leans her chin on her hand. “I guess.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I wanted to make them something.”

“You still can. Did you want to draw them a picture? Or you could give them something with both your handprints on it.”

She perks up. “Like the Santa sign we made?”

“Sure. You can think about what you want to give them, and I can help you with the handprints.” I put my arm around her shoulders. “It’s almost dinnertime. You and Poppy run upstairs and wash your hands.”