Page 46 of Donner

I hugged him close again to hide how misty my eyes had become. "I know. I always did my best. You taught me that."

"Your papa and I love you so much. Are you up for a Christmas breakfast with us before you get some sleep?"

I nodded, unable to trust my voice. He handed me off to Papa, who hugged and kissed me and told me he loved me too, and that he was so proud of me. I focused on the words, not wanting to take this moment for granted. Papa had always expressed his love for me, but that didn't make his declaration less important than one from Dad, who never shared his feelings out loud. I hugged him tighter and tried not to cry into the collar of my robe.

Finally, I was back in Beau's arms, walking toward the locker room where I could change into my Christmas sweater and jeans. My jeans were a little snug, but I wasn't far enough along to show yet. Still, Beau patted my tummy beneath my Christmas sweater and leaned down to whisper to the babies. "Did you have a good flight?"

I laughed and pulled him back to full height. "They're fine. How did you sleep?"

"How could I sleep? I watched NORAD's footage of your sleigh as it zipped around the world all night," he joked. That footage wasn't real, but it was a good story for the children. "Santa 52 delivered a little present to my former coworkers, too, and a soccer mom in Boca Raton."

I laughed, remembering the story Beau had told me about a little first-grade snob and his gift of black tourmaline.

"I only wish I could see their faces when they read the message."

Santa 30 had read and approved Beau's penned messages for his two former coworkers, former boss, and first-grade bully. They all bore his Santa signature. Inside the little boxes were tiny black tourmaline stones with a card explaining its uses."May this stone rid you of your negative thoughts. For best results, wear it daily until next Christmas."

We shared secret looks and giggles as we sat across from each other on the bus. I expected my dad to grow tired of our antics, but he only grinned at us, and then at papa, who was seated beside me. I felt like I was still soaring among the clouds with my team, or maybe I was dreaming.

It was a short walk from the bus terminal to my parents' house. Once we removed our winter gear, we settled around my parents' kitchen table. Papa made chocolate chip pancakes and brought out fresh fruit-filled kolaches. I smeared some of the leftover jam from the kolaches on my pancakes. Beau watched me with a bemused frown, but after he tried a bite, he did the same thing.

Papa made regular flour pancakes for Dad. When Beau went back for seconds, he tried those, too, with Dad's favorite maple syrup. That earned him a beaming smile from both my parents.

Then, they ushered us to the Christmas tree. Dozens of unopened presents nestled beneath the boughs, waiting for us to open them.

"Don't look at me like that," Papa said when I glared at him. "We wanted to take care of our grandbabies!"

"I haven't even put up a gift registry." I hadn't had time with all the flight simulations and extra exercises I'd been running. When I got home from work, I was too tired to do much of anything besides hold Beau's hand and watch ridiculous television on the couch. One of my walls had always been programmed as a television, but I'd never known it until he arrived.

"You can do that after you see what we got you," Dad said. He looked just as giddy about us opening the presents as Papa did. I couldn't remember my dad being this happy about me opening presents, even when I was a kid.

I made Beau open most of their gifts so I could watch their faces as they curled up together on the couch and we sat on the floor beneath the tree. They looked truly happy together for the first time I could remember. I realized it was me who had made them unhappy. Papa was constantly running interference between me and Dad. Now, Dad and I had both let go of some of our expectations of each other. We could share the same space without being at each other's throats.

Then I remembered the usual argument starter that caused all the hard feelings. Dad hadn't asked me when I planned to move. He hadn't mentioned it once since I'd returned home from Miami with Beau.

After everything was unwrapped and all the paper tossed in the recycle bin, Beau and I sat with our backs to the two recliners. Warmed by the cup of hot chocolate in my hand, I dared to ask the question that could potentially spoil the whole day.

"Dad?"

He grinned at me. "Son?"

"Why did you want me to move out of my apartment?"

His grin turned into a rakish smirk. "Well, you weren't going to meet your mate in that hole in the ground, were you?"

I barked a laugh, and Beau joined in.

"No," I said. "I guess not."

"It's a great place for a family, though." Beau's eyes crinkled around the edges when he was both sleepy and happy. I couldn't wait to get him home.

By the time we left their house full of food and with our arms loaded with presents for the babies, Beau looked even more tired than I felt. On the bus, he said he had a few things to finish in his office. That gave me a chance to look around our apartment and begin planning where we would put the twins when they arrived. My apartment was technically a two bedroom, but the second bedroom was barely big enough for my computer desk and a wastepaper bin.

When Beau arrived, I tossed the tape measurer to the floor in frustration.

After he picked up the offending green plastic and placed it on the coffee table, Beau hugged me to his chest and kissed the top of my head. "There's a vacant three-bedroom on the floor beneath us."

I sighed and burrowed my face into his soft flannel shirt. "Really?"

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