by Keeland, Vi
B. Maxwell.
Holy shit. Birdie wrote to Santa again?
I couldn’t rip the letter open fast enough.
Dear Santa,
I’m not sure if you’ll remember me or not, but my name is Birdie Maxwell. I wrote to you a few months ago and asked you to bring my dad and me some stuff. Don’t worry, I’m not asking for more already. I have everything I need. But here’s the thing: I don’t think you’re real anymore. It wasn’t too hard to figure out.
You see, in history we’re studying population. My teacher, Mrs. Parker, said the population of the North Pole is zero. She said that humans can’t survive the temperatures and pretty much only narwhals live there. Zero people at the North Pole where you’re supposed to live!
Then there’s Suzie Redmond, this girl at school. I told you about her before. She saw her mom putting out the presents Christmas morning last year. Also, if you make the toys in your workshop, why do the dolls I got last year say Made in China? Something’s fishy with that.
Oh, and I did the math. Mrs. Parker said there are 1.9 billion kids in the world living on over two hundred million square miles, and the average family has 2.67 children. That would mean that you’d have to go 5,083,000 miles per hour to visit everyone on Christmas Eve. How can that old wooden sleigh go so fast?
Plus . . . you can’t get in our fireplace! Duh!
So, since I’m pretty sure you’re not real, you’re probably wondering why I’m even writing at all. Well, I’ve decided that when I grow up, I want to be a writer, just like my special friend Sadie. Sometimes she comes over so that my babysitter can go home early, and we sit at the dining room table doing our work together. Like right now, she’s on her laptop typing across from me, and I’m pretending to do my homework. But really, I did my homework in class while the teacher was talking about something boring today, so I’m writing to you just to practice my writing.
I covered my mouth with my hand and started to crack up.
What a little twerp. We did sit across from each other when I came over early and had work to finish. I had no idea she wasn’t doing homework. Still laughing, I went back to finish her letter.
Anyway, it’s okay that you’re not real. I have everything I could ever want. My dad smiles all the time now. That’s pretty much because of Sadie. She makes me smile, too. Even if you were real, I wouldn’t ask for any presents for me this year. Well, except maybe for Sadie to say yes to what Dad’s going to ask her on Christmas.
Love,
Birdie Maxwell
My eyes widened.
To what Dad’s going to ask me on Christmas?
Christmas Eve had me on pins and needles. This was going to be perhaps the biggest night of my life. I carefully selected my wardrobe, choosing a red dress that I knew Sebastian loved based on the one time I’d worn it before. If he was going to be proposing to me tonight, I wanted to make sure that I was dressed for the occasion.
The plan tonight was for Sebastian, Birdie, and me to have an intimate Christmas Eve along with my dad, who would be coming down from Suffern to spend the night in Sebastian’s office, which doubled as the guest room. I couldn’t wait to show Birdie some of Dad’s and my Christmas traditions and to spend a cozy evening at home with the people who mattered to me most.
After catching an Uber to Sebastian’s house, I stopped to really take in the cold night air as I exited the car. A few small snowflakes started to appear. Could this be any more perfect of a night? On top of everything, we were getting a white Christmas, too? Was this the last time I’d be standing on this sidewalk as a nonengaged woman? Wow. Let that set in for a moment.
I clutched my coat and looked up at the already darkened sky, thanking the man above for making this life possible, for leading me to this family, and for granting me the opportunity to have them as my own.
Sebastian opened the door before I had a chance to ring the doorbell.
“What are you doing standing out here in the cold, beautiful?”
“I was just thanking the stars above—literally—for everything. I feel like the luckiest woman alive.”
He nudged his head. “Get in here so I can kiss you.”
Once up the stairs, Sebastian enveloped me in his arms. The warmth of the sweater he wore brought immediate comfort. He smelled so good, like a blend of juniper and sandalwood. He kissed me long and hard, and I could actually feel his heart beating through his chest. I wondered if he was nervous about what might possibly be happening tonight.
“Sadie! You’re here. It’s about time!” Birdie came running out.
She wore what many might deem an ugly Christmas sweater with cats on it and had her hair in two pigtails.
The three of us fell into a group hug.
“I’m so excited for tonight,” I said. “Are you ready to get started in the kitchen?”
Birdie clapped and jumped. “Yes!”
Sebastian removed my coat. He took a moment to ogle me in my dress and groaned subtly as he shook his head. I fully looked forward to him taking this dress off me later. We’d need to be quieter than usual with my father in the room next to us, but there was no way I wouldn’t be getting some Christmas Eve lovin’ tonight.
Birdie ran ahead of me to the kitchen. The doorbell rang before I even had a chance to follow her.
“That must be Dad.”
Sebastian went to open the door. My father wore his famous winter hat with the furry flaps on the ears.
“George! Glad you made it safely.” Sebastian patted him on the back.
Dad’s cheeks were red from the cold.
“How was the train ride?” I asked as I pulled him into a hug.
“Uneventful.” My father looked around. “Where’s Miss America?”
“I’m right here!” Birdie said, returning from the kitchen.
She ran to give my father a hug. “Sadie’s daddy!”
“Merry Christmas, sweetie. It’s so wonderful to meet you.”
He hugged her extra tight. I knew Dad must have been thinking the obvious: that she could be his granddaughter.
Sebastian took my dad’s coat. “What can I get you to drink, George?”
“Some of my daughter’s delicious rum punch would be nice.”
“I was just about to go make that, Daddy. Making a nonalcoholic version for Birdie first, then adding the rum to ours.” I winked.
Birdie and I ventured into the kitchen to start working on the evening’s fixings. We roasted chestnuts, made punch, and prepared trays of cut-up vegetables with various chips and dips.
Sebastian had had the chef at Bianco’s prepare a special lasagna for us, which was sitting in the fridge waiting to be put into the oven later.
At one point, Birdie fell into a daydream. Then she said, “My mom used to make little gingerbread men on Christmas Eve.”
My heart clenched. The fact that she was thinking about her mother right now had a profound impact on me. Here I was doing the best I could to be motherly tonight when in fact I’d never be able to replace Amanda.
“Really?” I said. “Gingerbread men. I love that.”
“I don’t remember everything she used to make. But I remember those and Mickey Mouse pancakes.” She shut her eyes momentarily, then said, “I don’t want to forget. Sometimes, I’m afraid I will when I get older.”
In that instant, I knew exactly what we needed to do.
“We won’t forget. Do we have the stuff to make gingerbread men?”
Her eyes brightened. “I think so? I know we have cookie cutters in the drawer.”
“I think we need to make them. And if we don’t have the ingredients, I’ll go out right now and get them, okay? I think we should make them every year in honor of your mom.”
She beamed. “Thank you. Mommy would like that.”
I ended up having to run out to the market down the street for a couple of the ingredients. Thankfully, it was open.
After I returned, we made the gingerbread men and frosted them.
Ju
st as we were finishing, Sebastian walked into the kitchen.
“Just checking on things in here.” His eyes landed on the gingerbread cookies lining the tray. “You’re making gingerbread men. Now it makes sense why you ran out to the store.”
“Yes. Birdie informed me that her mom always made these on Christmas Eve.”
“Yeah.” He smiled. “She sure did.”
“I told her we need to make them every year.”
He stared at the cookies for a few seconds before looking up at me and mouthing, “Thank you.”
“Of course,” I mouthed back.
My father walked in. “Are those roasted chestnuts I smell?”
The four of us gathered around the island, noshing on all the delights along with the punch.
After carrying some of the items over to the coffee table in the living room, we gathered around the tree as my father told Sebastian stories from my childhood.
“So what did you ask Santa to bring you this year, Birdie?” my dad asked.
“Nothing,” she answered. “I have everything I need. Plus, I don’t know if Santa’s real anymore.”
We all looked at each other, unsure how to respond to that.
Sebastian tackled it first. “How do you explain all the presents every year, then?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s you. Maybe some of it’s real, but not certain parts? Like the chimney? I wrote to someone I thought was Santa. I told you that, Daddy. I used to think it was Santa answering me, but I don’t know if it was anymore.” She shrugged. “But good things have happened ever since.”
We fell into silence.
“I believe in good people,” she finally said. “But I’m still hoping for olives and a glam nail stamper this year.” She winked at Sebastian.
I sighed. Our little girl was growing up.
Our little girl.
Either way, she was. My girl. No matter what the truth was.
Sebastian got up from the couch. “Well, Birdie, you have to wait until Christmas morning to open your presents, because Santa wasn’t prepared tonight. But maybe now is a good time to give Sadie the gift we bought her?”
She jumped up and down. “Yes! I’m so excited!”
Is this it?
My heart raced. Was Sebastian about to propose to me with Birdie by his side? Were they going to ask me officially to be part of their family? I started to get a little choked up as they walked together to the bedroom.
My father smiled over at me. I couldn’t tell 100 percent, but he seemed like he might know something.
Is he in on it?
Sebastian might have asked his permission.
Birdie was skipping down the hall next to Sebastian as they returned to the living room. Sebastian carried a box wrapped in shiny red paper with an elaborate gold bow.
He took a seat next to me before handing it over. “We thought long and hard about what to get someone who means so very much to us. Ever since you walked in that door, our lives have been richer and full of joy. This gift represents our gratitude to you for being a part of our world. We love you.”
My hands shook as I worked to open the box.
Then my heart fell a little when I realized it wasn’t a ring. I closed my eyes, needing a moment to calm my nerves, because I had been so certain. I opened them. Then, when I caught sight of what it was and it registered, my emotions went from disappointment to complete awe.
Inside the box was an exact replica of the butterfly barrette that had led me to Sebastian’s doorstep that day, except it was encrusted in diamonds and hanging from a white-gold chain.
My mouth fell open. “I have no words.”
“I mentioned to Birdie that you told me how much you admired her barrette.” He winked at me, knowing full well that only he and I knew the full story about that barrette and how it had led me to the dog-training gig.
He continued. “We took to it a jeweler and asked him if he could replicate it in diamonds. I think it came out perfect. I hope you love it.”
Getting choked up, I said, “Are you kidding? This is the most thoughtful, heartfelt, stunning present anyone has ever given me in my entire life.”
After I hugged each of them tightly, Sebastian took the necklace out of the box.
“Let’s put it on you.”
The feel of Sebastian’s hands on my skin sent a shiver down my spine as he placed the necklace around my neck.
My dad smiled from ear to ear. “Looks beautiful, pumpkin.”
Birdie’s eyes were wide as she took in the bauble. “Now you can think of me every time you wear it.”
I hugged her again and said, “Honey, I don’t need a necklace to think about you. You’re always on my mind. But I will cherish this so much. It means more to me than you could ever know.”
There ended up being no ring in sight that Christmas. And that was just fine by me. I’d rather Sebastian not rush into such an important decision. Was I a little disappointed? Sure. But I still felt like the luckiest woman on the planet.
CHAPTER 31
SEBASTIAN
“Marmaduke, look at me.”
The dog raced around the room, his paws scratching against the hardwood floor.
“Stop, you horse!”
He continued to scurry. I then remembered the German command for “stay.”
“Bleib!”
That worked. He stopped in front of me.
“Show me what you did with it.”
Ruff!
I held out the mangled, empty box and pointed inside. “What did you do with the ring?”
Ruff!
If the past few days were a movie, they would have been dubbed: The Year the Dog Ruined Christmas.
The morning of Christmas Eve, I’d been standing in front of the mirror in my room, practicing all the poignant words I would recite when I got down on one knee and asked Sadie to be my wife. I hadn’t been sure when exactly I was going to pop the question—either it was going to be Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. I only knew it was going to be at some point during those two days, when the moment felt right.
Birdie knew everything and had planned her own little speech to recite to Sadie when we proposed. With Sadie’s father in town to witness it all, it was supposed to be epic. That is, until I decided to leave the ring on my end table while I took a shower. When I emerged from the bathroom, the box was gone.
There was no one else to blame but the Duke. He was the only one home at the time and he’d been in and out of my room moments before my shower.
I ended up having to tell Birdie. She and I’d spent the entire day scouring the house for the ring box. We finally found it—empty. Our dog had lost a $20,000 Tiffany diamond.
I supposed I could’ve still proposed without it. But I’d wanted everything to be perfect, and without a ring, well, that would have pretty much sucked. Thank God I’d also had the idea to have that pendant designed, because at least I had something to give Sadie. What a nightmare.
So here I was, the day after Christmas, with no ring, just a crushed empty box, and I was talking to the dog expecting an answer like a lunatic—as if I could somehow negotiate with him to tell me what he’d done with it.
The fact that we’d turned the entire house upside down and still couldn’t find the ring was very discouraging to say the least.
If it didn’t turn up in the next few weeks, I’d have to cut my losses and purchase a new ring. But I still hadn’t given up 100 percent hope yet.
It was strange, too. I sensed something in Sadie when she left this morning, like a disappointment. I wondered if she’d been secretly hoping I’d pop the question. That made all this so much worse—because I desperately wanted to put that ring on her finger.
Birdie walked into my bedroom as I continued to negotiate with the dog.
“Any luck, Daddy?”
“No. You?”
She shook her head. “No. I even went through all my stuffed animals, thinking maybe Marmaduke was playing with them and m
ight have had the ring there. But I didn’t find anything. Is there anywhere else we could look?”
Looking around and scratching my head, I said, “I feel like we’ve searched every corner of the house.”
Birdie knelt in front of the dog. “Marmaduke, please tell us where you put Sadie’s ring.” He just proceeded to lick her face. Even my daughter couldn’t work her magic with him when it came to this situation.
The doorbell rang. My heart sped up a bit because I knew it was Sadie arriving back at the house for our afternoon plans. She’d only run home for a change of clothes. We’d be taking Marmaduke to the park, then heading to Bianco’s for an early dinner. Then later, we’d watch a movie back here.
I opened the door to let her in. “Hey, sweetheart,” I said as I leaned in to kiss her.
Sadie’s cheeks were rosy from the cold. “Hey.”
“Your dad make it home okay?”
“Yeah. He just called. He’s safely back in Suffern.”
“Good. It was nice getting to spend quality time with him.”
“Yeah. He really enjoyed you guys, too.” She smiled.
Birdie entered the living room with her coat already on. “We’re ready whenever you are, Sadie!”
“Hey, Miss Birdie.” She hugged my daughter. “Did you miss me in the three hours I was gone?”
“Tons!” She giggled.
The three of us embarked on our outing with the dog walking us as usual instead of the other way around.
When we arrived at the park, we let Marmaduke run around for a bit while we sat on a bench and listened to Birdie go on and on about the kids at school. Meanwhile, the entire time I kept thinking about the damn ring. I hoped my lack of attention wasn’t too obvious. I’d hate to have to lie to Sadie when she called me out on being preoccupied.
After twenty minutes, Marmaduke finally got tuckered out. We got up from the bench and began the trek home to drop him off so we could head out for dinner at my restaurant.
A few blocks down the street, the dog stopped under a tree. We knew what that meant. So we waited while he squatted down. Sadie had been holding the cleanup bag, so she bent down to pick up his droppings.
She suddenly froze.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
