Page 84 of Santa Daddies
“Office, off limits. Got it!” This time I made it all the way out of the kitchen before turning back. “Whatever you’ve got planned for dessert, could you please make sure it will look great with a piggie perched on top?”
The exaggerated snorting sounds that followed me out of the kitchen might be his way of telling me I was full of it, but I preferred to think of it as something else.
“I’m considering that pig Latin for I’ve got your back,” I called over my shoulder.
“I-way ove-lay ou-yay, abygirl-bay.”
And for the first time since being invaded by a platoon of porcine pinkness, I giggled.
Chapter Two
Austin
Marcie’s skills at clearing the kitchen of boxes were far superior to her mathematical ones. Within an hour, there wasn’t a single box left to hamper my ability to cook. I’d just picked up the first casserole dish when she popped back into the kitchen.
“Table’s all set.”
“I’m not going to see a few thousand piggies decorating our table, am I?”
“What a silly question, Daddy. A far better one is what can I do to help you?”
If she thought I’d not notice that wasn’t exactly an answer, she thought wrong. But I was a firm believer in anticipation whatever side of the paddle that might be on. “Can you grab the oven door for me?”
“Sure!”
She bounced over, but before she could grab the handle, I reminded, “Be careful. It’s hot.”
“I sure hope so because as much as I love your lasagna even when it’s cold, I don’t think I’d like crunchy, uncooked noodles.”
After I’d slid the dish into the oven, I kissed the tip of her nose. “I assure you, your Daddy knows how to heat things up.” To add a bit of visual aid to my assurance, I dropped my hand and popped it against her rear.
“That’s not very ni… they’re here!”
I was actually a bit surprised. Not that our guests had begun arriving, but that I could hear Marcie’s words over the sound of the doorbell ringing. Or, more accurately, when the first musical notes of a Christmas carol began to blare all through the house. Evidently, she’d also found the time to hook up the new music box to not only welcome our guests, but to inform all our neighbors exactly which holiday was coming up next.
“I’ve got it, Daddy!” she yelled above the carolers belting the lyrics about a red-nosed reindeer.
“No running in the house,” I shouted right back, swearing I could hear the squeak of rubber sneakers skidding to a halt in the hallway leading to the front of the house. “And make sure to check before you open that door. Remember, Santa’s watching.”
“You’re so funny.”
“What was that?”
She turned at the sound of my voice, most likely because it was louder due to the fact I was now leaning against the kitchen doorjamb.
“I was just saying, you make such a fine Santa Daddy.”
I grinned. “Ahh, well, you deserve the very best, babygirl.”
“You have my permission to put that on your list!” She didn’t run, but she could speed walk better than anyone I’d ever known. I’d never cease to be amazed at how quickly my Little girl could go from the depths of anguish to the peak of pure joy faster than a certain famous sleigh that flew around the entire world in one night. I reentered the kitchen to set the timer, dropped the oven mitts on the counter, and went to join Marcie in welcoming our guests.
“All clear!” Marcie announced after pressing her nose against the beveled glass of our front door. “Merry Christmas,” she shouted as she pulled it open. The moment she had enough room, she yanked Jenna through and then flung her arms her arms around her best friend.
“Merry Christmas!” Jenna shouted right back.
While the two girls performed their routine happy dance which involved a flurry of high fives, slapping palms, hip bumps, and gyrations far too complicated to follow, I opened the door wider to allow Leo room to slip inside and then shut it which silenced the carol.
“And so it’s begun,” Leo said, shaking his head. The grin on his face belied his attempt at sounding dire.
