Page 76 of All The Things: The Last Thing He Needs Omnibus

“Believe me, I know.” The tease was clear in Bobby’s voice. Not a trace of irritation or even disappointment. “What about when we’re old and senile?”

“Then every Christmas will be our first Christmas together.”

He managed to drag Bobby out of the store without adding anything else to their carts. That felt like a Christmas miracle in itself. They’d gotten three things for each of the kids to open. Plus Santa. It didn’t sound like much, but when you multiplied it by seven and compared it to every other Christmas they’d ever known, it added up fast. There had only been two Scrooge jokes from Bobby and one comment from Tommy about spoiling them. As compromises went, they did okay.

When they got home, they stashed everything in their little garage apartment. Bobby tossed a sheet over the pile. “Just in case the kids come in here before we get everything wrapped.” By the look on his face, all those presents could’ve been for him. Tommy didn’t think he’d ever seen Bobby so happy.

“You look like a little kid yourself, copper.”

Bobby slid his arms around Tommy’s waist and pulled him close. “It’s Christmas—we’re all supposed to act like little kids.”

He couldn’t help a small laugh as he leaned in, grinning against Bobby’s soft kiss. “If you say so.”

Unfortunately, a few kisses were all they had time for. Bobby had less than a half hour to eat and get ready for his shift.

After they said their goodbyes, Tommy went next door to Judy’s. The kids were all scattered, picking at homework and chores, but Max toddled over to him with his arms up as soon as he saw Tommy.

“Oh, good, you’re home.” Judy looked relieved when he walked into the kitchen. “I needed to talk to you.”

Tommy never liked the sound of that, but he kissed Max’s cheek and set him down. Judy passed him a cookie before he could run off to the other room.

Without commenting on the cookie for Max, Tommy asked, “What’s up, Madam M?”

Judy wiped her hands on a bright red dish towel, smiled, and nodded toward the living room. “Did you get your Christmas shopping done?”

“All but Bobby.” He had no idea what to get Bobby. The guy had everything he needed and damn near everything he wanted. When Tommy had asked him what he’d like for Christmas, Bobby’s unhelpful response was you. Safe to say, that one had already been delivered.

He followed Judy past the eight-foot Christmas tree, around the coffee table, and collapsed onto the couch.

“Well,” Judy said, picking up a small stack of notebook paper, “I guess I’m a little late, then, but I wanted to share something with you.”

She knew how to catch his attention. Tommy sat up and leaned forward.

“The other day, I asked the children to give me their Christmas lists.” Judy thumbed through the papers and then looked at Tommy. “I got the impression they’d never done that before.”

Tommy shrugged. Christ knew there’d never been a point to writing out a list of wishes in their family. Last year was the closest they’d ever come when Carrie and Collin told Santa what they wanted. Two things each, Tommy remembered. Collin had wanted a new pair of shoes and a puppy, and Carrie had asked for pretty hair clips and a book.

Judy nodded, as if Tommy’s shrug had been confirmation. “When I asked this year, I had expected… I don’t know, maybe a laptop or an iPad, something… big, something they can’t get every day.”

There was something unsettling about the look on Judy’s face. “What’d they ask for?”

Reading from the paper in her hand, Judy said, “Colleen says: I don’t really know what I want. I love the phone you got me for my birthday, and that feels like more than enough. What I’d really like is to get something special for Tommy. He’s a pain—she’s scratched something out here, but I’m fairly certain it was in the ass—to shop for, but I’d like to think of something for him. If you have any ideas, please let me know.”

Tommy didn’t trust himself to speak, even if he knew what to say, but he could feel his eyes pricking.

Judy looked pointedly at him and set Colleen’s paper on the table. “We’ll put a pin in that one for the moment.” She looked at the next one on the stack. “Mike says: I can’t really think of anything I want, not as far as presents go. But I think it would be really cool if we could have a fancy Christmas dinner. The kind with really nice plates and matching glasses and pretty napkins and stuff. I saw this lamb roast on a cooking show last week, and it looked really good. I’ve never tasted lamb. I’d help cook and clean up and everything, but that’s what I’d like most. If we can’t do that, it’s okay, but I’ve always thought that would be nice.” By the time she finished, Judy’s eyes were shining, and she had to pause for a breath. “He added at the bottom: Can you think of anything to get Tommy? I have a few ideas, but I’m not sure. I want it to be something special this year.”

Judy and Tommy sniffled at the same time, and a hint of a smile flickered across Judy’s face before she read the next paper. “Davey says: If it’s not too much, I’d like a new pair of earbuds. Only one ear works on mine now, and it kind of crackles. Can we get something for Tommy too? I don’t know what, but something.”

She set his paper aside and looked at Tommy. “Are you recognizing a theme?” Thankfully, she didn’t wait for an answer before looking at the next wish list. “Carrie says: I’d like some new hair clips and maybe a pretty dress—she put a question mark there, not a period. Just so you know. She went on to add: Nothing fancy or anything. If it’s not too much, maybe some paints too. And I know what I’m doing for Tommy and Bobby, but what would you like, Judy?”

For fuck’s sake. Was she trying to kill him? When Judy smirked, Tommy wiped his eyes and asked, “What?”

“Nothing. I just thought I saw your heart grow three sizes.”

“I’m not a grinch.” He wasn’t. Really. “I just don’t want ’em spoiled, is all. There’s nothing wrong with limits.”

He expected an argument, but instead, Judy said, “I agree. Limits are vital. But these kids could be millionaires and not be spoiled. Coming from where they started out, they will never ask for much. And that’s almost worse than being spoiled sometimes.”

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