Page 76 of Sexted By Santa
“He’s just saying that because he has a pet lizard,” Rhett said.
Tori’s eyes went wide. “You can have them as pets?”
Ethan nodded. “Yes, but lizards like this one”—he pointed to the iguana on the card that was lying on a tree branch with a Christmas hat photoshopped on—“take a lot of work. I wouldn’t recommend owning one until you know you’re ready. It’s better to start with Beardies. They’re easier to care for and very affectionate.”
“Thanks!” Tori said. She looked up. “Daddy, can I—”
“No!” Jaxson said quickly, eyes a bit desperate. “No lizards.”
She pouted. “I just wanted to ask if we could go see the choir now?”
“Yes, let’s do that.” He flashed a tense smile. “Thanks, guys.”
As we walked away from the wildlife booth, he visibly relaxed. Tori skipped ahead, entirely unaware that she’d nearly given her father a coronary.
“They meant no harm,” I said.
“Oh, I know,” he said. “Sorry if I was rude. I cannot handle the idea of a pet right now.”
I chuckled. “It’s okay. I’m sure Tori’s a handful all on her own.”
“You’ve got no idea,” he muttered, but he smiled as he watched the expression of awe on her face as we approached the choir and listened to the polished, harmonized voices blending together.
“They sound like angels,” she said, eyes round.
Jaxson scooped her up and kissed her cheek. “They sure do.”
Front and center, with his voice raised above the rest in a solo, was Darius. His cherubic face matched his beautiful voice, and as he sang for the crowd, he shone with a vibrant happiness I’d never seen before.
I applauded enthusiastically, raising a hand to catch Darius’s eye as the choir launched into its next song. He smiled brightly, looking pleased to see me.
“That’s your friend from the dinner party,” Jaxson said. “I forgot he said he’d be performing here.”
“You know him?” Tori said. “His voice is great!”
“It is, isn’t it?” I mused, struck again by how much I would have missed if I hadn’t come to the festival with Jaxson and Tori.
It was dark when we left, strings of Christmas lights setting everything aglow. As we walked back to the car, I took in the decorations I’d always found so garish. It was still a little over the top, a little tacky. Fake garlands wrapped streetlamps and large wreaths topped them with big red ribbons. But there was a warmth to it I’d never acknowledged. The lights twinkling from display windows and rooflines, the bright colors reflecting in melting puddles of snow. It was…beautiful.
And most of all, the people. The smiles and pink cheeks and excited chatter. The couples walking hand-in-hand while sipping hot coffees. The fathers carrying tuckered out toddlers as I could imagine Jaxson had once done for Tori.
How had I missed all that? The way the holiday brought people together, raised their spirits? That was something worth admiring even if I didn’t care for the crowded shopping mall, the holiday music that poured from every loudspeaker for months, or the glut of Hallmark movies.
I looked at Jaxson and Tori, tired but smiling after a full day, and my contentment only grew.
Maybe the season wasn’t so bad in the company of the right people.
20
JAXSON
“Can I take Shirley the gingerbread men I got for her?” Tori asked as soon as we pulled into the driveway.
Because she didn’t want to deal with her blood sugar, Tori had saved a number of treats for later. My pockets were loaded with candy canes, and I knew Christian carried some peppermint patties and hot chocolate mix for her. I’d assumed the gingerbread men she’d decorated in the “Elves’ Workshop” had been for her—but it wasn’t unusual for Tori to press treats onto others when she couldn’t eat them. I think it made it easier for her to abstain if she thought of it as a gift for someone else.
Whatever helped her cope was good by me, but I frowned at the dark windows. “I don’t know, Tori. It’s getting late.”
“It’s only six-thirty,” she protested.
