Page 85 of Santa Daddies
“And so it has indeed.” We hugged like normal people, which included only one slap on the other’s back and a transfer of the bottle he’d brought from his clutch to mine. I looked at the label and then at him. “Since when do you drink sparkling grape juice?”
“That’s Jenna’s contribution for this evening. She’s still on restriction from last month’s dinner. She might be twenty-five, but she has the tolerance for alcohol of someone still in their teens.”
“If I recall correctly, our tolerance was pretty high back then,” I said with a chuckle.
“That’s why we’re the Daddies. Here, this one is for us.” He presented a second bottle. “I got us a red. You are serving your famous lasagna, right?”
“Like you’d ever let me cook something else,” I said good-naturedly.
“And please tell me there is cheesecake for dessert!” Jenna said.
The greeting ritual had to have ended as the plea included both of her hands pressed together beneath her chin as if in prayer.
“Would I let you down?” I asked, opening my arms wide, both to let her plow into me as she wrapped her arms around my middle in a hug as well as to keep the bottles I was still holding safely out of harm’s way.
“And, Daddy even included a surprise with dessert,” Marcie said.
I quirked a brow as this was the first time I’d heard of this surprise. That was until she scrunched up her nose and made a soft snorting sound as if to jog my memory. I chuckled. “I believe the thanks for any surprise goes to this evening’s hostess.”
Jenna turned to Marcie. “Did you just snort?”
Marcie opened her mouth to answer but was interrupted by the next line in the chorus as more guests arrived. The next several minutes were spent in a whirlwind of shouted hellos, dizzying hugs and dances as the Littles in our group greeted each other like they’d been separated for a lifetime rather than what was most likely only a few days or perhaps a week at the most.
“Dinner in half an hour,” I announced. After the last guest’s heels had crossed the threshold, I practically slammed the door shut
“Daddy, is it okay if we play until dinner?” Marcie asked.
“Sure, but just so you know, we’re seriously going to have to rethink the whole doorbell thing.”
“Isn’t it fun!”
“That’s not the word I would choose. Let’s just say that if it continues to ring as often as it has over the last half hour, the next time we host dinner, I’ll be serving venison.”
Her mouth dropped open and her eyes grew huge. “Daddy! You can’t do that!”
“Believe me, I can?—”
“I mean”—she bent forward, beckoning me to do the same until our noses were practically touching—“venison is deer. You can’t cook Rudolph’s relatives! Santa would never forgive you!”
“Then I suggest you figure out a way to not only rotate the tunes on that box but turn it down several decibels. It’s driving me bats… reindeer poop crazy!”
She giggled. “Good catch there. I’m pretty sure Santa doesn’t like cursing either.”
While I couldn’t exactly argue, I could reach out for her, but she was a quick Little girl and scooted out of reach, swinging her hips to the side to better her chances of missing any swats. And as if that wasn’t enough to throw off my aim, she had the audacity to turn around and walk backward while continuing to address me.
“I’d really love to stay and chit-chat with you, but we have guests, remember?”
“Like they don’t have a clue as to what happens to sassy Little girls.” I grinned. “Go on. I’ll call you when it’s time.”
Despite her concern for ourguests, she found time to reverse her retreat and run back and go up on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. “Thanks, Santa Daddy,” she said before bouncing back to her friends.
“Why’d you call him Santa Daddy?” Dawn asked as the group headed down the hall.
“Probably because she’s already got presents!” Jenna said, lifting a finger to point. “Look at all those.”
“Wow, have you peeked at any yet?” Chloe asked as she poked her head into the doorway to get a better look.
“Only naughty Littles peek.” Henry’s contribution was met with laughter.
