Page 40 of All in December
We just smile at each other for a moment until Emma shifts again, rolling closer into Caleb’s side, her tiny fingers gripping his arm. It’s absolutely adorable, and Caleb doesn’t seem to mind… because he’s perfect.
“She’s still out,” he whispers, looking down at her.
“Thanks for being such an awesome dad, even with my kids.”
“Of course, you all make it easy.” He grins.
It’s quiet for just a second before we hear loud footsteps barreling down the hallway and Sam and Benji bust into the room.
“Dad! We’re hungry!” they both say in unison.
And now Emma is awake.
Caleb lets out a soft laugh as Emma stirs between us, blinking sleepily. “Perfect timing,” I say, brushing a piece of hair out of her face. “Hey, Em. You want pancakes?”
She nods groggily, then climbs out of bed. We both get up and throw on T-shirts and pajama pants, and Emma immediately reaches for my hand. I take it without hesitation, and then she reaches for Caleb to take her other one. He does, and the sight of them together—her small fingers curled around his—makes me feel all gooey inside knowing she finds comfort in his presence.
“Come on, chefs,” I say, leading the way to the kitchen. “Let’s make breakfast. I brought stuff for pancakes and bacon.”
“Yes!” Benji cheers, pulling the fridge door open to grab the bacon.
The kitchen turns into a happy kind of chaos as Benji and Sam measure the ingredients for the pancakes, which is just the mix and water, but they’ve managed to turn it into a two-man job. I make coffee for Caleb and me while he helps Emma wash the blueberries. Then I put the bacon in the oven.
“Bacon in the oven, huh?” Caleb asks, eyeing me suspiciously.
“It’s so much easier, trust me. It cooks more evenly, and you don’t have scorching hot grease splatters all over the kitchen. And, most importantly, no risk of the kids getting burned that way.”
“You make good points, as usual,” he says with a smile. “I’ll have to try that next time.”
“Batter’s ready,” Benji calls out.
“Alright, time for a tester pancake,” I announce. “It’s the most important one.”
“Dad always does this,” Emma tells Sam, and it’s adorable that she wants him to feel included.
After the tester is good, we start on the real pancakes. Caleb is flipping them while I pick Emma up to drop the blueberries in the circles of batter as they sizzle. He’s steady and patient, murmuring “Perfect, Em” each time she has the right amount. She beams at this praise, and I swear I feel it in my chest.
When the food is done, all five of us sit at the table, eating blueberry pancakes and bacon. As I eat, I take it all in—ourkids, Caleb, the way none of it feels like something I have to manage, but something I get to enjoy.
Caleb catches my eye across the table. “What?” he asks, his brow quirking.
“Nothing.” I smile. “This is nice. I’m happy.”
His smile creeps across his face, and I can tell how much he’s feeling it too. “Me too, and the bacon is good. I think you sold me on cooking it in the oven.”
“I had a feeling I would.”
Once breakfast isover and everything’s cleaned up, we pack up from the night, load the cars, and head back to the mountain for more skiing.
By midday, we decide to call it quits and head back home. The kids are worn out from the morning and have somehow managed to turn who fell the hardest into a competition.
Meanwhile, I’m already missing Caleb, and we haven’t even gotten into our cars yet to go our separate ways. My gut twists at the thought of saying another goodbye. I want one more night, one more morning, even if I’m already sure one more will never be enough.
As we start taking our gear off, I turn to him. “I’m glad this worked out. I know it was last minute, but this was another perfect weekend with you.”
He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t have missed it. Thank you for planning this and including us.”
“You’re the reason I planned this, Cay,” I assure him, and his cheeks darken.
