Page 10 of Amy's Santa

“What the fuck’s wrong with that?” Blade calls out, pulling Tash to him. “Where’d you get it, Joker?”

“Dad!” Mason and Sabrina, Blade and Tash’s kids deride as one.

Wraith and Sophie’s youngest at thirteen pipes up, her head shaking in confusion, “Flavoured lube? Doesn’t lube go on a bike?”

Her question has the result of making Sophie go bright red. Wraith makes a show of covering Hilda’s ears while everyone else cracks up.

Jeez. Just another night in the clubhouse. Not that we often have one where everyone’s here together at the same time. I risk a sideways glance at Xander to see how the heart surgeon’s taking it, but he’s leaning casually back on his chair, grinning widely, his hand lazily draped over the back of Amy’s seat. Not her, I notice. He seems to be acting politely, not touching her too personally in front of her parents.

Marc notices me watching the pair and leans in. “I suppose soon we’ll have a third generation, when the kids start having kids of their own.”

I look from Amy back to her. “Fuck no. I’m not ready to be a grandpa.”

But I wasn’t quiet enough. “Don’t worry about me on that score, Dad.” Amy’s fast,too fast?to reassure me.

Has she and Xander decided not to have children? A pity if so, Amy would make a great mom.In time, I add quickly to myself. She’s not even thirty. But I look again at her carefully, Crystal and I were both younger than her when she’d come along. Another puzzle piece to ponder. Why’s she so adamant she won’t have kids?

Christmases have changed, I muse, looking around, regretting how time has passed. Now all our children are at least teenagers, no more stockings are placed under the tree, and the presents are no longer toys which need assembling when the kids are asleep. I knew better how to deal with Amy back then. I smile to myself, remembering her glee and delight when it was time to open stockings and find out what Santa had left.

Once all the food has been eaten, tables are cleared with everyone trying to lend a hand, making me think if less of us helped it would be done in half the time, but hey, tripping over each other is all part of Christmas in the clubhouse.

One of the kids, Peg’s son, Noah, hell, he’s Throttle now and the enforcer so kid isn’t perhaps an appropriate term, but anyway, he puts on some music and the youngsters get up to dance. When a slow song comes on, Joker and Lady sway gently with Maya sandwiched between them, I dance with Amy, while Marc is in Jacob’s arms, and Isabel and Alexis make fools of themselves. I notice Xander doesn’t take the opportunity to have Amy in his arms, in fact when Wizard approaches her she turns him down, even Zane gets turned away. It slowly dawns on me as the evening progresses, the only man she’s danced with has been me, her father.

There are other little things I notice, as the night goes on. Amy goes to the bar but Xander follows her over, a word to her and the prospect, and then she’s turning with a glass of water in her hand which I’m certain she hadn’t intended to order.

Once again I wonder if I’m reading too much into it, but have to speculate whether Xander is too controlling and taking over her life?

Don’t like that thought. Not my independent and have-at-the-world little girl who left at eighteen to move alone to Phoenix.

It’s close to midnight and the party is still going on. The lights on the Christmas tree twinkle, the room is filled with laughter and love, but the more I sneak glances at my oldest daughter, the more convinced I become that something isn’t right.

A short while later, I watch her walking across the floor, heading in my direction. Xander’s walking beside her, close, but not touching as he’s been all along. Her head’s down, her eyes meeting no ones, her lips aren’t curved up. She looks like a clock that’s wound down.

“We’re heading up to the suite now,” Xander speaks for them.

I stand, placing my finger under my daughter’s chin, and raising it so I can see into her eyes. Like before, I notice there’s no sparkle, no excitement, even though it’s Christmas Eve. “You alright, sweetheart?”

“I’m just tired, Dad. My last shift was long and then the drive here…”

Plausible excuses. I decide to shelve my doubts until the morning, she looks tired and not up for further interrogation tonight. So leaning in, I kiss her on the cheek. “Goodnight, sweetie. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Then to Xander I tell him straight, “I’d appreciate a talk with you in the morning.”

He sends me a chin lift. Guess he’s been expecting that.

Chapter Three

Xander

All evening I’ve been watching Amy, surreptitiously checking in with her, asking discreetly and quietly, “Are you doing okay?” It pains me to see the effort she’s making just to keep talking, let alone smiling and laughing. As the night goes on, I see she’s relying a little bit too much on alcohol, when she goes to get more, a word in her ear has her reconsidering. The last thing she needs is to lose that little control she has.

I know her father has been watching her with dawning suspicion, and a few of the other men of his generation have been casting her glances of concern and giving frowns in my direction, but mostly I believe she’s getting away with the act she’s putting on.

I wish I could take this pain from her, I hurt on her behalf. It irks me she can’t even relax amongst her family. It seems there’s now nowhere where she can let down her guard.

Of course I came here with her. She’d been worrying for weeks, trying to come up with an excuse why she couldn’t go home for Christmas, battling with the knowledge of how much her absence would hurt her family and friends. The least I could do is make sure I was here to lend my support. I can balance her or whisk her away if it all gets too much.

Iknow, when no one else does, and she can’t admit it.

Iunderstandwhen no one else can.

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