Alex
I let myself into my house, grocery bags in hand and find my brother, Tyler, lying on my couch—the same spot he was in before I left to run errands, three fucking hours ago. He’s on leave from the Marine Corps for two weeks and will actually be home for Christmas and our mom is being a little nutty.
She means well, but she gets overly excited and emotional when all her kids are home. We’ve had family dinners every night, there’s been talk of a family photo, and family tree decorating.
We’ll grumble and complain, but we’ll do it because we love her. Tyler is here just for a little break before she overdoses us on Christmas. I kick the couch, “You gonna get off the couch sometime today?”
He turns to look up at me, flipping me off. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m on leave, give me a break.” My Great Dane, Tiny, named after the dog I had growing up. He had belonged to my dad when we met, and he and I bonded immediately.
When he died, I was heartbroken. I swore I was never going to have another dog, but I was at a community event and the local animal shelter had dogs there and Tiny got loose and came over to me. I was immediately in love. He’s three and is the laziest dog I’ve ever met. He’d nap all day if he could.
Right now, he’s lying on the floor in front of the couch and Tyler is scratching his head. He looks up at me and I point at him, “lazy ass.”
He sighs and then looks back at Tyler, resting his head on the cushion. “Your dog loves me best.”
“Whatever, he just loves whoever is available to cuddle. Mom’s summoned us for dinner tonight.” I tell him as I walk into the kitchen to put the groceries away.
Tyler follows me and leans against the counter. “Yeah, Dad called me. I’m gonna drive myself though, I have plans tonight.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
We spend the rest of the afternoon watching football, and I’m thankful to have my brother home.
I hear the sliding door and my dad comes out with a beer for me. He twists the cap off and hands it to me. Dad’s never really been much of a drinker, I can count on both hands the number of times I’ve seen him drink. His dad was a bad drunk who used to hit him and Grandma when he was hammered.
“Thanks.” I tell him before taking a pull from the bottle. “Thanks to all the home cooking I expect to put on about ten pounds.”
“Don’t I know it. I already told your uncle Jonah that we were going to have to bump up our workouts,” he says with a laugh, but it’s complete bullshit the guy is in better shape than guys half his age.
Hell, he gives my brothers and me a run for our money when we’re in the gym together.
“I wanted to talk to you about something.” Dad’s voice is all serious. I turn to look at him. “We have a detective position opening after the first of the year. I want to recommend you. You’d have to take the detective’s exam, but I know you’ll pass it with no problem.”
I always knew I wanted to be a police officer like my dad. After high school I went to college to get my degree in criminal justice. Once I graduated, I started working at the Aldridge Police Department. I was determined to prove that I didn’t get the job just because of who my dad was to the department.
“Really? You think I’m ready for that?” This is the first I’m hearing about this.
He nods. “Of course, I’m sure. I wouldn’t have told you if I wasn’t. I think you’d be fantastic.”
“Okay, sign me up. I want to take the test.” I drain the rest of my beer and smile. “I appreciate your confidence in me.”
The sliding door opens, and my baby sister, Mara, pokes her head out. “Dessert and coffee are ready.” She smiles before disappearing back inside.
“See, Mom’s trying to make us all fat.” I smile at Dad before we stand up and head inside. On the kitchen island is my favorite, Mom’s homemade pecan pie. I love it so much she makes it for my birthday instead of a cake. Next to it is a chocolate crème pie.
Mom comes toward me, her blue eyes identical to mine sparkle with mischief. “The day before Christmas Eve, family picture.” She does this little hop/clap combo.
Dad, Tyler, my younger brother Cameron, and me all groan in unison.
Mara stands next to Mom, cracking up. “Can I tell them the best part?” Mom’s mini-me doesn’t even try to hide the immense joy she feels when our mom nods. “The theme of the photo is . . . ugly sweater.”
“Oh hell no.” Cameron and Tyler both grumble. Dad and me just groan . . . again other than that we don’t argue because Mom always gets her way.
I grab a slice of pie and a cup of coffee, carrying it into the living room where Tiny is sleeping on the dog bed my parents have for him when we come over. I take a huge bite of my pie, failing at hiding the moan that slips past my lips.
“Bro, you need to get laid if you’re moaning like that over pie,” Tyler says, chuckling as he sits on the opposite side of the couch from me.
I punch his arm. “Don’t worry about me, dick. I get plenty and often.” Yeah lately the often has turned into few and far between, but I’ve never had trouble finding a willing female to share my bed.
Mara comes walking in, sitting between us. “You two are complete dogs.” She hits me with her elbow.
I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her into my side. “You love me.” I kiss the top of her head. She’s a junior in high school and almost ten years younger than me, but we’ve always been close.
Mom comes walking into the room. “I love having all my babies home.” We all shake our heads because she’s always getting emotional when it’s about her babies. “I’m so proud of all of you. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, Mom, we know.” Cameron comes in carrying his plate.
While we eat, Tiny snoozes in his dog bed. Right in the middle of our brood, and right where he likes to be.
Chapter Two
Aspen
“Mr. Daniels, how are you feeling?” I check my post-op hip replacement’s IV. He turns his head slowly to look at me. “Can you rate your pain for me? One being no pain and ten being the worst you’ve ever felt.”
“I-It’s about a six. I’m thirsty.”
I record his pain level and vitals in his chart. “Let’s start with ice chips and see how you do with those.” He nods so I grab him a cup. When I bring them back, I raise the head of his bed before handing them to him. “Take a small bite and let’s see how you do.” I check his catheter output, which is good.
Once he’s stable, I call up to the ortho floor and tell them I’m bringing him up. The process takes me a half hour and once Mr. Daniels is safely in his room, and I’ve given my report—I head back down to recovery.
That’s how the rest of my shift goes at Aldridge Community Hospital. I’ve been here for two months, having moved from Chicago. Everyone thought I was crazy, moving to a smaller town, but I wanted the change of pace—it just took me a while to find the right place and the right job to call home.
The moment I drove into Aldridge I just felt like I was where I belonged. I can’t explain it, but a sense of peace washed over me.
I pull into the parking lot of Tiny Tots Day Care and Preschool and climb out of my car. I use my little key card to enter the building. The girl behind the desk smiles up at me and I return it and head down to the butterflies room.
I can hear the happy screams, laughter, and I giggle. When I open the door, I find little ones running and jumping around. Then I spot my little princess who comes running toward me.
My daughter, Dakota, is three, and full of sass. “Mommy.” She hollers as she comes running toward me. Her curly light brown pigtails bounce as she launches herself at me.
As always, I’m prepared and hold out my arms. Dakota wraps herself around me like a little spider monkey. “How was your day, baby?”
“We wead books, drawed pituwes, and pwayed games.” She says excitedly. My girl has never met a stranger and loves adventure, which is what I told her we were going on when we moved here.
Afte
r we say goodbye to her teachers, I help her get her hat and coat on. She slips her little hand in mine and we head to the car. She sings along to the radio, making me smile on the way home. Dakota’s little voice is so soft and sweet, and she’s always loved singing.
My daughter has also loved music since she was in the womb. I’d turn on my music and lay my phone on my belly—she’d kick and roll, like she was dancing. Of course, Dakota gets her love of music from me.
It was at a Pearl Jam concert at Wrigley Field that I met her father. My one and only one-night stand and the little rascal in the backseat was the result.
“Mommy, I want chicken nuggies.” Speaking of my little rascal. I swear that is all my daughter will eat. Her pediatrician assured me that she’s okay and to just try and sneak veggies and fruits in there.
“Okay, I’ll make you chicken nuggies and salad.” She’ll eat salad if I drown it in ranch dressing, but at least that’s something.
When we get home, while she watches a movie, I make dinner, and then we go through our evening routine after we eat; bath, snuggles, story, and then bedtime. Once I kiss her goodnight, I head out to the living room to fold laundry.
I never wanted to be a mom, mine was a monster, and I was worried that I would become her, but the moment that test came back positive I vowed to be the best mother I could be. I couldn’t imagine not having her in my life.
When laundry is put away, I decide to head to bed.
I blink away the sleep and smile. Dakota snuck into bed with me sometime in the night. She’s burrowed into my side and my arm is around her waist. I take a second to inhale the sweet scent of her hair.
She’s the perfect combination of me and her dad, and I hate that I snuck out before exchanging information—of course, I left because I was scared, he’d reject me in the morning. Sneaking out while he was sleeping seemed like the best plan.
I ease out of bed and walk into the bathroom. After taking care of business I brush out my hair and then twist it up into a bun on top of my head. I quickly brush my teeth and wash my face.
While the coffee brews I peel a banana and eat it while staring out into the backyard. The snow angels Dakota and I made the other day are still there. I love snow, but I hate driving in it. Of course, now I’m close to work so it’s not too bad.
“Momma.” I turn to find my daughter standing by the counter. Her hair is wild, and her face is flushed. She only calls me Momma when she first gets up, but I’ll take it. Her arm is wrapped around her teddy’s neck.
“Good morning, my baby.” I come to her, picking her up in my arms. She lays her head on my shoulder and wraps her arms around my neck. “Did you sleep well?”
She nods against my neck. I grab her sippy cup of milk and get her settled on the sofa. After I get my cup of coffee ready, I come back into the living room and sit down next to her. We’re early birds so we have a little time before we have to get ready for the day. This is my favorite time of day because she’s my little snuggle bug.
When Dakota finishes her milk, I take her in to brush her teeth and then take her into her room to get her dressed. Tonight, is her school’s holiday party. Santa will be there, and I can’t wait to see her reaction.
One of the teachers said that it’s usually one of the officers from the Aldridge PD that dresses up as Santa. The chief of police’s daughter is the head of the school.
I put her in a pair of red thick tights, a black and white checkered dress that hits her right above her knees, and on the front is a Christmas tree that has tiny bulbs that light up.
On her feet are a pair of little sequined imitation UGGs. I wrestle her hair into a bun and use red and green barrettes to hold down the pieces that won’t go into it.
“You look beautiful.” I tell her and she does a little spin. Her blue eyes sparkling with obvious joy.
I quickly throw on clothes and my boots. After I pack my toiletries, so I can freshen up after my shift, we head out.
Chapter Three
Alex
I stand in the doorway to Dad’s office and watch him as he types something on his computer. The older I get, the more I start to resemble him. He’s my hero and always has been.
I always knew that my dad wasn’t my biological dad, and legally he wasn’t my father until I was five, but it wasn’t until I was sixteen when I learned the truth of my parentage. Long story short, my parents were high school sweethearts, but broke up right after graduation. My dad then joined the Marines, leaving for six years.
My mom was in a bad way after he left and made bad choice after bad choice. One night while she was out, she was drugged, and then taken back to a motel room. I don’t need to tell you what happened to her, but I’m sure you can guess.
I was a result of that, and it turned out that my dad, Brock, was actually my half-brother. We shared the same father. A lot more shit went down, but the man who hurt my mom, saved me.
That had been a bad year. I was angry, hurt, and sad. I couldn’t believe Mom kept me, knowing how I came to be. Dad and I fought all the time and when I would want to piss him off, I’d call him bro. One night, things came to a head. I’d gotten drunk, came home and in front of my younger siblings I punched out a window, slicing my hand pretty bad.
The blood going everywhere made my sister cry hysterically—since she was right by me when it happened. After that I finally accepted that I needed help and started going to therapy—we even went as a family.
Dad didn’t give up on me, even when I was so nasty to him. It took me a while, but I finally came to terms with the truth. Brock is my dad and always will be.
He looks up from his computer. “Hey, Son, what are you doing here?”
“I drew the short straw—I’m Santa at the Tiny Tot’s holiday party.” I roll my eyes and shake my head. Of course, I don’t mind it, it’s just freaking hot in that suit.
Dad chuckles, “I remember when I had to do it. You were in junior high and helped pass out candy canes.”
I nod, “I remember that. Mom made me wear that elf hat and the ears.”
“Your mom and me will be there later. I think Mara is going to be your helper. It’ll be a family affair.”
He walks with me to grab the suit. It’s two big bags and my best friend/fellow officer, Nelson, snickers as I walk by. “Ho ho ho,” he bellows, causing everyone to laugh at me. I simply flip them the bird and carry the bags out to my truck.
I pull up to the preschool and slip in the back entrance so none of the kids see me with the Santa costume. Tara, Chief’s daughter, is the one who lets me in. “Thanks for coming, Alex. Dad said you were the one to draw the short straw, I know it’s a bit of a pain, but the kids really do love it,” she says as she leads me into an empty classroom. “Go ahead and get ready in here. We’ll come back to get you when it’s time.”
“Thanks, and I’m happy to do it. It’s for the kids, right?” I set the bags down and turn to Tara.
She heads to the door and turns toward me. “We’ve got gifts for all of the kids.” Tara points to a big velvet bag. “They’re all in there.” Once she disappears out into the hall, I start getting ready.
Twenty minutes later there’s a knock on the door. My mom and sister come in. Mara is dressed in what looks like an elf costume. She makes the perfect Christmas elf. She’s always been petite, short, like our mom.
“Oh honey, you look adorable.” Mom places her hands on my shoulders. “My boy is so handsome.”
I lean down, kissing her cheek. “In this get up, I doubt it.” I grab my beard, slipping it on. “Are there a lot of kids out there?”
Mara skips over to me. “There are. They’re all so excited.” She reaches up, straightening my beard. “Perfect.”
She screeches as I wrap my arm around her neck, getting her in a headlock. Mom snaps a quick picture of us. I don’t know how Mara’s put up with three older brothers—we scare every guy away and tease Mara relentlessly, but I’d die for her.
I kiss her cheek bef
ore letting her go. Mom helps me attach my belly and then helps me get my coat on. I feel like a fool right now, but I can handle it for a little bit, for the kids.
Mom leaves us to head out front. I’m sure she’s going to record the whole damn thing—blackmail for later, I’m sure.
Tara pokes her head in a minute later. “You ready?”
“Yeah, I’m ready.” Mara comes to stand next to me with the bags of gifts for the kids.
The moment I step into the room I shout, “Ho-Ho-Ho . . . Merry Christmas.” I step further into the room with Mara by my side. I look around at all the smiling kids and then notice a bunch of guys from the station, my brothers, and Dad are all standing in the back of the room—their cameras up, capturing my embarrassment.
Tara comes walking over and all the kids vibrate with excitement. “Okay everyone. I want you all in a single file line. When it’s your turn come tell Santa what you want. He’s also got a present for you.”
These kids mean business because they hustle to stand in a single file line. I sit down on my makeshift throne and start talking to the kids. One by one, they sit on my lap or if they’re scared, stand next to me. We pose for a picture and then Mara hands me their gift and a candy cane.
One little boy comes marching up to me. “You don’t look like Santa. He’s fat, and you’re not.”
“Uh . . . well, I haven’t eaten all of Mrs. Claus’s cookies yet. Tell me, have you been a good boy?”
He looks at me with a smirk on his lips. “Duh . . . of course I have.” The boy turns to his mom, “Right, Mom.” Everyone laughs, of course, and he eats it up. I hand him his present and candy cane and we pose for a picture.
When I get to almost the end of the line, I spot the most adorable little girl I’ve ever seen. Her hair is in a bun on top of her head and she’s dressed in the most adorable Christmas dress.
She sees me looking at her and waves wildly. “Santa, is me Dakota.”
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