Havoc for the Holidays (Home for the Holidays)

9. Ollie

Chapter nine

Ollie

D espite not having work, I found myself with little free time. The buzz of the season had swept through town and everyone was filled with excitement and stress in equal measure. Becs’ school schedule was filled with holiday activities, and in the few free moments I was able to carve out for myself, I had to wrap and hide all her presents. I thanked my lucky stars that I had been slowly accumulating things for months, because the repairs to my car ate up far more money than I would have liked.

Despite all the stress, I was on cloud nine. Granted, Ezechiel was just as busy as I was preparing for the showcase, but we managed to steal a few quick lunch dates and always managed to text throughout the day and night. The less said about the contents of our texts, the better. Let's just say, I had a new password on my phone to avoid any uncomfortable discoveries in the event my daughter stole it when I wasn't looking. The promise of a new relationship buoyed my spirits even more than the holidays, which I didn't think was possible.

We still hadn't crossed the one threshold that would be a make or break for this thing blossoming between us, so when he texted to ask if I'd like to join him for dinner tonight, I figured the time was right. My nerves were ready to explode as I typed out my reply.

Ollie: Actually, would you consider staying in with us? Becs and I had something planned for tonight if you wanted to join us?

Ez: Count me in. Do you need me to bring anything?

Ollie: Just yourself. :)

I sent my address and set my phone on the counter with a shaky hand. It could be a good thing that Becs already knew Ez from dance classes, but it could also make it uncomfortable for her. That paired with the fact that he had admitted never dating anyone with a child before made me even more nervous as I glanced around the apartment. It was nothing like his adorable cottage, but it was home. I raced around tidying up the chaos that came with living in the same home as a five year old girl, losing all track of time in my anxious speed cleaning.

The knock at the door had me jumping out of my skin and sent Becs into a tizzy. With a wish on my lucky stars, I stopped her from opening the door and carefully pried it open myself.

“Hello, handsome.” He winked at me and dipped at the waist, extending a small bouquet of flowers to my daughter. “Evening, beautiful.”

“Ez? Whoa, so cool!” She grabbed the flowers and stuffed her face into the blooms with a giggle before taking a deep sniff. “Yummy!”

“Your Daddy invited me over. I heard there were special plans?”

“Uh-huh. It's cookies and movies night. Wanna see my room?” She lifted her hand up to him before I could intervene.

“Of course. I need the tour of your house!” Ez winked again as my child towed him past me. I mouthed an apology, but he simply waved it away with a smile. I exhaled and hoped for the best as I shut the door and returned to the kitchen.

The entire time I busied myself with setting out the cookie dough from the fridge and decorating supplies from the cabinet, all I could hear was Bec’s enthusiastic tour of her home. Where I felt the niggling sense of inadequacy and shame for our cheaper furnishings and lived-in clutter, she boasted in contrast. The innocence of childhood was pure and simple like that—she didn't know to compare and contrast and covet. All she knew was the warmth and happiness that came with home. It was a sobering realization, but one that helped me relax and rediscover the pride I had felt when we first moved into this place four years ago. Sure, it wasn't fancy, expensive, or spacious. But it was ours and it was filled with love.

“Becs, darling! Let Zeke go now. We have cookies to make!” I called through the house as I rolled out the final ball of dough. Classic sugar cookies, the ubiquitous holiday staple.

“Yasss I want the unicorn cutter! Ez, come help but don't do the unicorn ‘cause that's mine.”

They reappeared and I was thankful to see Ez looking more or less unfazed after the whirlwind tour courtesy of an overexcited child. Even I got overwhelmed by her sometimes and I was overflowing with unconditional love the likes I wouldn't find elsewhere. Ez only ever dealt with children in the studio. The fact that he was smiling ear to ear and still holding her hand warmed my heart and renewed my hope.

“I haven't made cookies in years. This is going to be fun.” Ezechiel slipped from her grip and stepped in beside me at the kitchen table. “Thank you for inviting me.”

He leaned in and paused, his lips hovering over my cheek. His breath against my skin sent a shiver down my spine as I instantly relived our last kiss and how desperately I wanted there to be more.

“This okay?”

“Oh, yes.” My eyes darted toward Becs and found her studiously examining the cookie cutter she'd called dibs on.

“Good.” Ez closed the distance and kissed my cheek before looping his arm around my waist. “We hadn't discussed… and I didn't want to overstep.”

“God, how do you keep getting better and better?” I exhaled the last of my tension with a dramatic huff. “It's not fair at all.”

I set the rolling pin aside and grabbed the tin of cookie cutters from the table. Becs had already stolen back the show, but I wasn't upset over it. Hearing her ramble on about anything brought me such joy. Listening to him engaging with her no matter how ridiculous her conversations became had me near tears before I realized.

Ez met my eyes and mouthed across the table. “You okay?”

I smothered a laugh and wiped my sleeve across my eyes. “Yes. Sorry.”

“Daddy gets like this at Christmas. You should see him cry at the movies.” Becs smacked her cutter into the dough and pried it up with intense concentration.

“Gee, thanks. Throw me under the bus, baby.”

“Hey, crying is okay. You said so!”

Guilty as charged. I wouldn't take it back, either. “You're right, Becs. It's time you knew, Ez—I'm a crier. Especially over Christmas movies.”

“Perfect. What are we watching tonight?”

“Polar Express!” Becs bounced off her step stool and hopped around the kitchen. “Dad says we gotta eat and then we can decorate the cookies and then we get to watch the movie.”

“And this is a cry-worthy movie?”

I nodded emphatically as we finished cutting the rest of the dough. Becs was evidently satisfied with one tray full of unicorns, which left the rest to us. Thankfully, he understood the importance of maximizing the number of cookies per tray, as well as varying the shapes. If this were a graded activity, he passed this part with flying colors.

He also passed when he stepped in to handle the washing up while I put the finishing touches on our meal. It wasn't fine dining, but it was still delicious in my opinion. The fact that he groaned through every mouthful of the slow-cooker goulash had my pride bubbling up to heights it hadn't achieved before. I popped trays in and out of the oven between mouthfuls until at last, they were all baked and cooling. The later it got, the bigger potential for meltdowns, so I worked to make the process efficient. At this rate, she would be passed out fifteen minutes into the film. In fact, I was sort of hoping for it.

Again, Ez stepped in and helped clean up dinner as I spread the cookies out on the table. This part was the messiest part, but also the most fun. Once we were all gathered in front of the icing tubes and bottles of sprinkles, Becs was ready to pounce. Somehow, it became a competition as I counted down from three and let her loose on the supplies. Ez jumped in with just as much vigor, and I followed right along. We laughed harder and harder as icing flowed and sprinkles rolled.

By the time we were finished, we had a huge mess and a ton of questionable looking designs, but we also all had broad smiles and twinkly eyes. I sent Becs away to wash up and change into pajamas as Ez and I managed to make quick work of the mess. His tender touches and stolen kisses were enough to get my heart rate increasing to the point of flustering me, especially when Becs raced into the room to interrupt yet another stolen kiss.

“Shit, sorry,” Ez mumbled, pulling back with a flush on his cheeks. He looked good in a blush. Usually, it was me perpetually struggling with the issue. I snickered under my breath and turned to Becs.

“Becs, I—”

“Are you boyfriends? Like Laney’s dad and Mr. Chip?”

“Well, um…”

“Yes,” Ez volunteered with a smile. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, it's cool. Dad, can I have the cookies now?”

I shifted my eyes between my boyfriend and my daughter and had to shake my head with a laugh. Apparently, it was that easy. “Only two. Choose wisely.”

“Yesss.” She hurried to the tray on the table and naturally selected the two largest, most drenched cookies. Before I could protest, she was gone. I gathered a handful of paper towels and followed behind, beckoning Ez to follow with the cookie I poached from the tray en route.

“Sneaky fingers. I didn't even see you do that.” He grabbed a pair of cookies for himself and trailed me into the living room just as the movie started. With a little finesse and a lot of stolen glances, we managed to fit ourselves into the half of the couch not taken up by a sprawling child, and I instantly felt a profound sense of rightness wash over me.

These silly Christmas traditions, things I did as a child that I now shared with my child, had always been so sacred and precious to me. Sharing them with someone else, someone who was quickly becoming incredibly important to me, had me choking on emotions that had nothing to do with the movie and everything to do with how lonely I hadn't realized I was. It also had everything to do with how good it felt to not be so lonely anymore. The fact that Ez felt tailor made for sharing the small side of the couch while my daughter spread out on my other side made the whole thing even more emotionally fraught in the best way possible. Maybe this is what home was supposed to feel like all along.