Page 30 of The Biker Needs A Nanny

“Of course. He doesn’t bring you presents if you don’t believe.”

“Oh. Billy Stanwell said there’s no such thing as Santa and that he’s made up.”

“Billy Stanwell doesn’t know everything, does he?”

She frowns, considering my answer. “I guess not.”

“I liked going to the lie-berry, Daddy,” Poppy says. “We each picked out ten books.”

“Ten? Wow.”

“Daddy?” Ella looks at me.

“Yes?”

“Why don’t you like the decorations? We worked hard on them.”

“I like them. They’re real pretty.”

“You were mean to Grace.”

“Was I?”

“Uh huh.” Ella studies me. “You should get her one of those drinks she likes to say sorry for being a grumpy pants.”

“A grumpy pants? Is that what I was?”

“Uh huh.”

“Hmm. So, what drink did you want me to get her?”

“She said it was a type of coffee, but it looked like a chocolate shake with whipped cream. I think she called it a fat pea.”

I stifle my grin. “You mean a Frappe?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“And you think I should get her one?”

“Yes, and don’t forget the whipped cream, Daddy.”

“How about we read the story?”

Poppy scoots closer. “Daddy, is it bad to steal?”

I frown. “Yes. Why do you ask?”

“When we were at the lie-berry today, I saw Grace take a scarf from a box. Is that stealing?”

“She took it because she was cold, Poppy. It’s not stealing if it was from the lost and found. Is it, Daddy?” Ella asks.

She looks up at me, and I know she wants me to assure her that her new hero hasn’t tarnished her halo. “Not really. It’s just stuff no one’s claimed. I’m sure it’s fine. Now, let’s read this story you picked out.”

I crack open the book, and they both lean closer to look at the beautiful illustrations.

Reading it, I can’t help but think of Melanie. She should be here reading to them. I miss her so much, and once again, the unfairness of her death hits me like a ton of bricks. But I’ve got to be strong for our girls. She’d want them to have a happy Christmas. She wouldn’t want her death to hang like a pale over it.

I have to try. For her. For the girls. I have to move past the pain. A part of me feels like to do so is being disloyal to her memory, but if I don’t change that, I’ll only build a wall between myself and our daughters. I don’t want that for them, so I have no choice but to suck it up and do the right thing.

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