Page 83 of Like A Daydream
“Got it,” Andrew says, cursor hovering over the ‘end call’ button. “Merry Christmas, love you both.”
“Merry Christmas,” his mom says. She blows him a kiss and his dad grunts, then he hangs up, settling in for the next two hours of flight time.
He sneaks into Danielle’s house at around one in the morning, meeting her at the door. They trip down the hallway quietly, giggling as they exchange kisses and run into the walls.
“Shh,” Danielle says, shoving him through her bedroom door, “Harper.”
“If you hadn’t practically jumped me –”
She cuts him off with another kiss and the door closes behind him with a snap.
The next morning, Andrew and Danielle wake up early, and he’s so in love he wants to throw up. She’s wrapped in one of his hoodies, floating around the kitchen as she gets coffee ready and he helps her with breakfast.
“Are you doing okay?” he asks, sensitive to the fact that it was going to be hard for her this year. Inbetween kisses the night before, she had told him all about past traditions with Emerson, and how she still wasn’t sure if it was going to be hard or neutral or okay.
When everything is ready, they take one more minute of the quiet to be together, and Danielle curls up on the couch with him. She’s between his legs, back against his chest, sipping her cup of coffee when he reaches for his bag.
He’d dropped it on the floor by the couch as Danielle all but attacked him, and he hasn’t bothered moving it since people were coming over and he’d stashed his gifts in there. He digs through it for a small velvet box, not a ring one, not yet, and he hands it to her.
“Merry Christmas,” he says, pressing a kiss to her jaw softly as he holds it out for her to take.
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” she says, taking it from him and running her fingers over it.
“I would have to be an idiot not to,” he replies, smiling and tightening his arms around her.
“Jury is still out on that one, Fisher,” she teases.
Danielle opens the box and her eyes go wide. He’d gotten her a solid gold necklace with a hockeyskate pendant on it, smaller than a nickel, his number engraved in the blade.
“You can’t wear my jersey all the time, so I thought this would work,” he says, taking it out of the box with nervous hands, “is it okay?”
“It’s perfect,” she says, turning so he can clip it around her neck.
“If the chain isn’t long enough I can get it altered,” he says clipping it on and rearranging her hair so it spills down her back. She turns toward him with a smile.
“How does it look?” she asks, quietly. “It feels like it’s always been there.”
“Perfect,” he says, just as quiet. He presses his forehead to hers. “Just don’t kill me when you see what I got Harper, okay?”
“MAMA! ROSCOE IS HERE!” Harper yells from down the hall. Andrew grins, standing from his spot on the couch as his favorite six-year-old sprints into the living room. “DOES THAT MEAN ANDY IS HERE TOO?”
Harper skids to a halt in the doorway when she sees him.
“I’m here,” he says, holding his arms out for her. Harper runs to him, and he scoops her up into his arms, spinning her around as she hugs around his neck tight. “Merry Christmas, bug.”
“Merry Christmas,” she says, pulling back and setting her hands on his face. Her brow knits in concentration and he grins.
“What is it?”
“Do you think I could maybe call you dad?” Harper asks. His heart slams into his ribs and his eyes start to burn.
He swallows hard. “I would like nothing more than that.”
Harper slides down out of his arms and hugs around his waist tightly. “I don’t have money because I’m six, so I thought that would be a good present.”
“It was the best one,” he says, ruffling her hair. “When Uncle Jet gets here we’ll open yours, okay?”
“Why do we have to wait?” she asks.
