Strange charity service in the Neighborhood door – 04

Half-an-hour later, I’d fed her, but not before proving to us both that we fit each other perfectly. It was quiet, and gentle, and just what I needed to make it clear that the previous night wasn’t a one-time accidental thing.

* * *

It’s been a year since that first Christmas. Things weren’t always easy between us, we still had sharp edges and wounds that weren’t quick to heal, but we stuck to it.

Any talk of holding Hannah back in school ended quickly. She’s an A student, smart as a whip, and even talking about playing volleyball. Her quiet spell snapped that Christmas.

Within six months I’d moved in with Victoria and Hannah, and we’d become landlords, renting out my two houses, and using our new found wealth to buy a few foreclosures, renovate them and rent them out as well. Victoria quit her jobs and was relishing her new real-estate magnate career. Even if the rentals can be a headache sometimes.

By September we were talking about marriage, and decided to forgo any big ceremony and flew off to Vegas for a mini-vacation and a quick wedding. We even conned Paisley and John to join us for a couple of days. Paisley was our matron of honor. Joseph and Darla surprised us by showing up as well. He insisted that if I was going to put on the noose again willingly, he’d be my best man. He always was.

We’re wrapping Hannah’s gifts now. I guess overdoing it at Christmas is one habit I’ll never get over. Every once in a while I can’t help but reach over and rub Victoria’s belly. Hannah’s excited by the idea of having a new baby brother by summer.

Me? I’m excited by our new Christmas tradition. I get to re-enact our first Christmas sleepover. Victoria’s even wearing that silly, ratty old robe. She’s promised never to get rid of it.

Christmas will always be bitter sweet to me, and sometimes I still get the blues and need some time to myself to think about those little girls that had their lives cut short so unfairly. I miss them terribly, and think about them every day.

Christmas will never be the same. But I’m not complaining.

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I hope you enjoyed this little story.