“You’re such a good dad to her,” I tell him once the internal rage has worn off, and I can objectively review his actions over the past few days. “To Magda. She adores you—”
“And you,” he says almost hesitantly as if he’s not sure how I’ll handle that knowledge. His gaze finds me warily though he keeps most of his attention on the road. “I can’t get her to stop asking when we’ll go to California again.”
I laugh, wincing as my left side twinges. “If my parents have their way, then probably for every major holiday at least. A few of the minor ones too. You do realize they’ll be expecting us for Christmas, don’t you?”
A smile softens the line of his mouth, and it is breathtaking. I sense him sneak another peek at me and his eyes brim with a hint of something that may or may not be…hope?
“Another chance to practice my gift-giving skills,” he says earnestly.
“Wine for my mother. Beer for my father. And as long as you don’t buy the entire toy store for Magda, I think you’ll do just fine.”
It’s only when I see the pained edge to his expression that I realize something I don’t have the heart to ask out loud. Has he ever spent a Christmas with family? With anyone other than Ena?
I make a mental note to myself to spoil him lavishly when the time comes—shower blow jobs galore. When I’m through, he’ll look forward to the holiday season with a childlike sense of joy.
I’ll fix all of the broken memories his childhood denied him.
Even if it kills me.