I decide to take one more stab at making him see a bit of reason. “You do know the government sees it as income, right? They’ll want their fair share. And with what’s left, you could send all the girls to college, Mari and Desiree, included. Even you if you wanted to go.”
His handsome features pinch, like I’ve got some nerve, hitting below the belt like that. I don’t let it put me off. If he wants a biddable wife who agrees with everything he says, he’ll have to find someone else.
“And Shane’s right,” I go on. “It’s not enough to set us up for life. We’d both still have to work. It would only be enough to take the edge off all the financial pain that’s bound to come up over the years.”
Cursing under his breath, he takes a few steps before he turns back. “I won’t let you talk me into this.”
“All right, I won’t say another word about it.” I slide off my stool to stand in front of him, running my fingers along the buttons of his dress shirt. “Anyway, we shouldn’t let what happened at the end taint how well the rest of the meeting went.”
He just grunts softly as if agreeing with me in actual words would mean he’d have to accept the money.
“I liked your brothers.”
Grudgingly, he nods. “They weren’t total assholes . . . as long as the older one keeps his hands off your ass.”
“What?” I laugh. “What are you talking about?”
“I didn’t like the way he was checking you out.”
Though I’m internally rolling my eyes, I hum my agreement. “It’s understandable though. You guys do look a lot alike and all that shared DNA means he’s probably attracted to me.”
His eyes narrow dangerously before a snort of laughter bubbles out of me. “You made that way too easy, Scott. Don’t you know by now that you’re the only man I’ll ever want?”
As Christmas approaches, Scott and I talk about the newest members of his family a few times, but never about the trust-fund bombshell. I understand his reaction, I do. To Scott, money comes from working hard, not from an accident of birth, especially not one that involves being born the illicit offspring of a despicable man. And I respect him for sticking to his principles.
My only clue that he hasn’t come through the meeting unscathed comes when, with only two days to go, he has a spur of the moment desire to buy the girls bikes for Christmas. My first instinct is to tell him that the plan hardly fits in with the austerity measures we’ve imposed on ourselves, but then I realize it probably has more to do with his need to reaffirm our ability to provide for the kids without any outside help. Not that kids need bikes, but I get where he’s coming from.
Turns out I’m so glad we go through with it.
My first Christmas with the girls dawns extremely bright and early. Even though they try to keep their delighted screeches muffled behind their small hands, I’m still jarred awake.
“Tío?” I hear Daniela whisper shout. “Are you guys awake? Santa came!”
“He did?” Scott mumbles from beside me.
I stayed the night in order to be here for this. We haven’t slept much, but not for the usual reasons. After coming back from Midnight Mass and putting the girls to bed, we were up most of the night talking softly by the light of the Christmas tree. It’s going down as one of my favorite nights ever.
Sleepily, I ask, “Are you sure? I didn’t hear him.”
“Look, Ellie! I mean, Mom,” Rosa whispers just as loudly as Daniela, her voice quaking with excitement. “Santa did come!”
Sitting up, I blink and then focus on them, standing by the tree, checking out the three identical pink bicycles. The shocked looks on their faces are priceless.
“This one has your name on it, Rosa,” Carmen says reverently, noticing the small license plate on the back of the bike.
“This one’s mine,” Daniela calls, which has Carmen moving to the far side to check her name. When she looks up, she’s absolutely beaming. I could totally get used to this parenthood stuff.
“No, come on, Daniela,” Scott says blearily, hauling himself up to rest his back against the sofa. “You can’t ride it in the house.”
“Can we go out now?”
“It’s still dark, chaparra.”
I grab my phone off the coffee table. It’s 6:17.
“How about we open the rest of the presents and after breakfast we’ll try them out,” he says as I get myself half-way vertical next to him. “Why don’t you guys go and wake everyone up?”
They don’t need to be told twice. It takes some time before the mobilization is complete though. Tía Mari is particularly uncooperative until the smell of brewing coffee convinces her to pull herself out of bed. Almost all the presents are for the kids, but their excitement, the glow of the lights, and the excellent company make for a wonderful morning. If this is a reflection of my future life, I doubt a happier woman could be found on the planet.
By the time all is said and done – the presents opened, the waffles and bacon eaten, and the adults showered – the girls are bouncing off the walls with wanting to get outside.
But like all children with their first bicycles, they’re forced to smile for a million pictures on the sidewalk first. Then, finally, under a partly cloudy sky, on the deserted street, with pink helmets firmly in place, we get underway. We have varying levels of success. Carmen, who’s paired with Scott, gets the hang of things first, and soon she’s making hesitant trips up and down the street by herself, a toothy grin firmly in place. Daniela seems to have no sense of balance whatsoever and it’s not long before she’s in tears because I fail to catch the back of her seat before she goes down. It breaks my heart the way she clings to me, sobs wracking her body.
Scott jogs up. Pushing the hair away from Daniela’s tear-stained face, he smiles at her. “You’re okay,” he assures her, then noticing the misery on my face, he adds, “You’re okay, too, Mom.”
Daniela sniffles as she pulls back to look at me. “I scraped my knee.”
Passing her over into Scott’s arms, I inspect her knee. “I think it’s pretty minor, honey.”
“I put a hole in my leggings,” she says desolately.
“Don’t worry,” Scott says, placing her feet on the ground. “We’ll get you a new pair, okay?”
“Car!” Desiree yells, and we watch as Carmen moves to the side of the street and stops.
“Hey, my sister’s here,” I say, feeling better now that Daniela has stopped crying. “I bet she’s got something for you guys.”
Immediately, Daniela perks up. “Really?”
“Really. Let’s go.”
During the summer, we got together with my sister a few times. The girls adore her and vice versa. Today, Sophie is dressed down in a pair of skinny jeans, a hoodie, and sneakers, which is unusual for her. Usually she’s done up to the nines like our mother taught us.
“Merry Christmas!” Sophie exclaims, holding out her arms for me to hug her.
“You too!”
She moves on to hug the girls. She even has one for Scott, with whom she’s come to a mostly friendly ceasefire. I introduce her to Scott’s sisters and then she opens the rear gate of my father’s SUV.