Page 9 of With All My Heart, Joy

“Paisley—”

“And chocolate and stockings and candy canes.” Her running list of all things Christmas wouldn’t stop.

“Paisley Daisy, it’s only November. We have a ways to go until Christmas.”

He pulled into the driveway of his modest home in a quiet neighborhood in central Silver Lake City. No Christmas lights on his house yet, thank you very much.

“But I love Christmas! The lights! And trees! And chocolates! And stockings! And…” Her excitement didn’t waver as Isaac helped her get ready for bed, and he didn’t have the heart to shut her down again.

He guided her hands to squeeze toothpaste onto her toothbrush. Her broad hands lacked dexterity for precise movements, and he’d learned if he didn’t want to clean up a toothpaste explosion on a daily basis, this was one thing he had to help her with. She’d get it on her own one day, just like tying her shoes. But there was no rush. With Down syndrome, rush was a four-letter curse word. Slow and steady won the race, all day, every day.

“Let’s see the teeth. Sayahh.”

Her mouth went wide as she obeyed.

“Looking good. Let’s say your prayers. No time to read tonight.”

As he tucked warm blankets around her in a room pinker than bubble gum, she beamed up at him. “Love you, Dad.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his heart filling his entire chest. “Love you, too, cupcake.” He started to leave the room, then stalled. He was a sucker for seeing people happy. The people he loved, the people he counseled, it made no difference. He wanted to be a part of that happiness.

“What do you want for Christmas, Paise?”

An excited gasp sprang from her mouth as she bolted upright in bed, scattering her blankets with wide open arms. “A puppy!”

Instantly regretting his question, Isaac eased onto the edge of her mattress, gently pushing her back down and resettling the blanket over her. “How about a cat?”

Dark hair flung out around her head as she shook it.

“Guinea pig?”

Her nose wrinkled with disgust.

“Fish?”

“No, Dad.” Her words were laced with frustration. “Isaypuppy!”

“Okay, okay.” He patted her cheek to calm her. “I heard you. What’s second on your list if I can’t deliver on a puppy?”

Her lips dipped in a fantastic pout. That extra chromosome gave her an extra dose of sass, Isaac was sure. “Nothing.” She rolled onto her side, away from him.

Isaac waited a moment until he knew she meant business with the silent treatment. “Good night, then.”

He had one foot out of her bedroom door when she spoke—with exquisite grammar. “I want a mom.”

A sword piercing his stomach couldn’t have cut more deeply. His lungs refused to work for the longest seconds of his life before the air refilled in a rush. “Oh, Paisley,” he murmured and left the room. He hoped she came up with an out-of-this-world third option. Because a mom for Christmas had an even slimmer chance of coming true than a puppy. And a puppy absolutely was not happening.

He was watching TV when his phone rang.Mom. The single word rolled across the screen.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Hi, honey. How are things? Did you get the card I mailed?”

He had no idea what she was talking about. “No.”

“Oh, dear, I hope it didn’t get lost. Shoot me a text as soon as you get it, okay?”

Although he was still confused, he agreed.

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