Page 95 of Yuletide Acres

But he was a saint during my pregnancy, doting on me and our unborn child. Even Marissa got in on the action, helping me to make a blanket for our newest addition. Her only caveat? We had to make hats for Paddington and Mr. Whiskers. The animals and I still aren’t on speaking terms, but I do have some amusing photos of the cat and dog modeling their berets.

Marissa’s exact words when we told her about our impending arrival was that every child needs a servant. Like I said, she’s forging an empire.

Marissa started calling me Mom almost immediately, but I strove to ensure that she learned everything about Merry. I want her mother’s memory as a permanent part of our family. I will always feel indebted to Merry’s spirit, although she hasn’t visited me since before Luke was born. She came to reassure me that the birth would go off without a hitch and we would both be fine.

Thank the gods, she was right. Our little man arrived right on time, screaming out his arrival in September. As soon as they settled him against my breast to nurse, Dylan broke down, the sobs racking his body, and I saw him release the fear he carried that I would suffer the same fate as Merry.

But I have a few guardian angels in my corner, and they’re not going anywhere.

* * *

“That meal was stupendous, Poppy.” Estelle pats her lips with her napkin, squeezing my hand. “You are such an amazing cook.”

“Good thing, since you guys like to eat,” I joke with a smile. “Did everyone get their fill?”

Dylan looks at his daughter, tugging gently at her curls. “I think it’s time for everyone to state their Yule wish. What do you think?” His gaze swings to me, and I nod in agreement, my heart hammering in my chest.

Here goes nothing.

I take a seat next to Marissa, grasping her hands in mine. “I love you so much, Marissa.”

“As much as Luke?” It’s a common game with us. She always inquires which one I love more, and my answer is always the same.

“God, yes. You’re my first. No one can hold a candle to you in my heart. My Yule wish is that I’d like to adopt you, Marissa. Merry will always be your Mom, but I’d like to be your mother, too.”

Her big brown eyes fill with tears as she throws her arms around my neck. I discussed my plan with Dylan, and he was certain she’d agree, but until she said yes, I worried I was overstepping. Moving too fast.

It turns out that my heart knows best.

I wipe away her tears before dabbing my own. “Now, what’s your wish? Let me guess…the new gaming system?”

Marissa shakes her head, handing me a piece of paper. When I read it, there’s no stopping the tears.

My Yule wish is for Poppy to be my mom. My real mom.

Dylan kneels between us, wrapping an arm around us both. “All of you—my mother, my beautiful daughter, my gorgeous wife and my amazing son—you are my Yule wish. I’ve never known this level of happiness. Thank you.” He presses a kiss to each of our cheeks, both wet with tears.

Our seven-year-old, precocious as ever, breaks into the moment.

“Um, Dad?” Marissa inquires as Dylan stands.

“Yeah, Cupcake?”

“Does that mean I don’t get the gaming system?”

The laughter reverberates around the table and Dylan and I smile at each other, knowing the system is neatly wrapped upstairs.

“I think that’s a job for Santa,” I remind her, smiling as Luke’s cry comes over the intercom.

“Looks like someone is feeling left out,” Dylan chuckles, following me as I go fetch him from the crib. Some fathers are hands off, but that was never the case with Dylan. Maybe it’s because he raised Marissa on his own, or maybe it’s just his way, but he is there for every dirty diaper, every spit up. Every everything.

Like I said, he’s the perfect father and husband.

Dylan wraps his arms around us both, pressing his lips to my hair. “That wasn’t my only Yule wish.”

“I know, you want to get lucky later.”

“I’ll never turn that down, but that’s not my wish, either.”

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