Page 135 of As the Years Pass
They’re also excited about moving, because we went by Emmet’s house and they say it’s huge. I guess compared to this apartment it is, but compared to their mother’s? It’s about half the size. But that just shows me how kids are so much different than adults, with different priorities. It helps me believe everything will be okay.
“You said we could open presents as soon as the sun came up, and there’s light now.” Judy points to the window, where there is a small sliver of light peeking through the curtains.
I grin. “Barely. But okay, give us one minute to get up and brush our teeth.”
“Nooo!” Ian cries dramatically, flopping over Emmet’s legs. “We’re gonna die having to wait.”
“You’ll live,” Emmet says with a grin, tossing the covers off him and covering Ian, then tickling him. He squeals with laughter and begs for Emmet to stop, which he finally does. “Go sit by the tree. We’ll be there in a minute,” he tells the kids.
They bolt, tripping over each other in their rush to get out.
I stand and stretch, already smiling like an idiot. “They’re going to lose it.”
“You really outdid yourself,” Emmet says, walking past me to grab his shirt from the chair. “How many gifts are under that tree?”
I shrug. “I lost count.”
When we walk into the living room, the kids are already dividing the gifts into piles, debating who gets to open the biggest one first. The tree lights glow against the still-dim room, casting sparkles across the ceiling, and for a moment, I don’t care that the rest of the house is empty.
It doesn’t feel empty. Not today. Emmet wasn’t wrong when he said this apartment was filled with happiness. I still feel it because they’re all here with me, but once we started moving things into Emmet’s house, I felt the shift. His cold house started warming up. The color gave it life. And once we’re all there, it’ll only get better.
“Okay!” I clap my hands, dropping onto the couch.
“No coffee?” Emmet whines.
“No!” Judy shouts. “Sit your bum on that couch and let’s open gifts.”
I laugh, then shrug. “One at a time. No chaos. We’re not cavemen, remember?”
Ian growls, holding his hands up with bent fingers like a monster.
“Okay, maybe he’s a caveman,” Emmet says. “Or a zombie.”
Ian growls again, then falls into a fit of laughter as Emmet sits beside me.
“Coffee later. Promise,” I whisper.
“And a Christmas morning blow job?” he asks softly into my ear.
“If we can sneak into the shower,” is my response.
“They have plenty of new stuff to keep them occupied.”
“Stop whispering over there!’ Judy shouts. “We have gifts to open!”
We both chuckle, but give the kids our attention and I gesture for them to get going.
Judy grins and hands me the first gift. “You go first, Daddy.”
“Me?”
“Yep. This one is from me and Ian.”
“Oh? How did you manage that?”
She just grins. “It’s a secret.”
I look at Emmet, who grins just as wide.
