The Jamie Series #8

Christmas.

by Gillan

Jim came awake slowly, feeling Blair snuggled close against his side. He yawned and stretched, rolling over and cuddling up to the warm body next to him. Downstairs he could hear Jamie awake in his crib, letting his father know he was ready to be set free from his wooden prison.

The clever little tike had learned he didn't have to go to the trouble of bellowing his lungs out, his father could hear him quite well if he simply repeated his name over and over again.

"Dad-dad-dad," Jamie was saying, rattling the wooden bars of his crib.

Hoping maybe he would get bored and go back to sleep Jim slid his hands around Blair's waist, drawing the younger man gently back against his body.

The litany from downstairs grew more insistent and Jim groaned under his breath. "I'm coming," he muttered, throwing back his quilt and grimacing as he rolled out of his warm cocoon.

Blair grumbled in his sleep and pulled the quilt over his head.

"It's all right for you," Jim muttered as he shrugged into his robe and jammed his feet into his slippers. "You get to sleep through this every morning."

Jamie was standing up in his crib, holding onto the wooden bars. His face lit up when he saw his father and Jim couldn't sustain his morning grumpiness in the face of such a happy grin.

"There's my boy," he greeted, lifting the toddler out and cuddling his warm little body close.

Jamie's eyes were still shiny with sleep and his brown wavy hair was sticking straight up. He patted his father's stubbled cheek in greeting.

"Guess what, piglet?" Jim said as he deftly unfastened and wiped and powdered. "It's Christmas day. Can you say Merry Christmas, Jamie? Merry Christmas?"

"Mare-kismus," Jamie repeated obediently, running it all into one long word.

"Clever boy," Jim praised. Jamie accepted it as his due, obviously he knew he was a clever boy. "Where's Daddy, Jamie? Where's Blair?"

Jamie tilted his head thoughtfully and then pointed upstairs.

"Daddy."

"That's right. And what is he doing?"

"Sleep." Jamie tilted his head and closed his eyes, miming 'sleeping' as he knew it from nursery rhymes.

"Yes, he's sleeping," Jim confirmed, winking wickedly. "Let's go wake him up."

Jim tiptoed up the stairs, Jamie in one arm, the other held up to his lips. "Shh," he whispered.

Jamie didn't seem to have a clue what was going on, but as usual he blossomed under his father's individual attention, wide brown eyes gleaming at this new game.

Blair was still a hump under the quilt when Jim and Jamie crept to the bedside.

"Daddy," Jim caroled softly.

"Daddy," Jamie repeated.

Blair grunted. "Go 'way."

"It's Christmas, Daddy," Jim said, suppressing his laughter.

"I'm Jewish, I don't celebrate Christmas," Blair croaked.

"But you live with us and we do," Jim pointed out playfully.

"Uhh." Blair rolled over onto his back, his tousled head appearing from its cocoon. "It's seven o'clock in the morning," he groaned. "It will still be Christmas in two hours. Come back then."

Jim easily detected the humor in the morning raspy voice and he took it as an invitation.

"Heck with that," he pronounced, jumping onto the bed. Jamie was deposited on Blair's chest and Jim delved under the quilts, fingers at the ready.

"Don't tickle me!" Blair yelped. "It's Christmas!"

"Mare-kismus!" Jamie shrieked.

"Merry Christmas, Jamie," Blair returned. "Merry Christmas, Jim."

"Merry Christmas, Chief." Jim carefully pecked a kiss on Blair's lips, mindful of his killer stubble.

"Hug," Jamie offered, chubby arms already snaking around Blair's neck.

"Hug, Jamie."

Jim settled back against the pillows, tugging the quilt back over his legs.

"What are the odds of coaxing him back to sleep?" Blair asked hopefully.

Jim wrapped Jamie's little quilted robe more securely around him as the baby scooted down between them.

"Nonexistent," Jim prophesied.

"That's what I thought. How about breakfast in bed?"

"Sounds good," Jim agreed. "Ill have scrambled eggs, bacon, toast and orange juice."

"Harumph," Blair snorted. "Some wife you are."

"Uh uh," Jim corrected. "I'm the husband, remember? The big, butch one." He posed, flexing his muscles.

"If they only knew," Blair opined. "Scrambled eggs sound pretty good though."

"Neggs," Jamie agreed.

"Food first, then presents?"

"Presents first!" Jim cheered, lifting Jamie up and holding him over his head. "Presents, Jamie!"

"Can I at least have some coffee first?"

"If you make it," Jim conceded, whisking Jamie up into his arms. "Come on, piglet, let's go admire the tree."

The winter sun was shining palely through the patio windows as Jim carried Jamie down the stairs. He plugged in the Christmas tree lights and stood back in satisfaction as they glowed cozily in the corner of the loft.

"Ooh," he said for Jamie's benefit and the baby copied him, making wide eyes at the lovely display.

"Oooh."

"Yeah, it's not bad," Jim agreed, well satisfied with the reaction.

Blair was clattering in the kitchen, setting coffee on to brew as Jim settled down on the thick rug by the tree, pointing out all the gaily wrapped gifts to the baby.

"And this big one is from Dad-dad, and this shiny one is from Daddy, and that one there is from Grandma. Lot's of loot, hey, Jamie?"

"He might as well learn now what Christmas is really about," Blair called teasingly from the kitchen.

"Cynic," Jim called back cheerfully.

"Excuse me?" Blair questioned. "Is this the same Jim Ellison who wouldn't even get a tree last year? Bah-Humbug Ellison? Scrooge McEllison?"

Jim poked out his tongue at his lover. "You can't bug me today," he said serenely. "I wasn't in a Christmas mood last year, and you didn't help, moaning about the commercialization of Christmas yada yada yada." Jim looked up at the six foot tall tree and then down at the pile of presents that surrounded it. "Although I may have gone a tad overboard this year," he admitted a little ruefully.

Blair handed him a steaming mug of coffee and sat down next to him on the rug, legs crossed. "No, you think?" he teased.

Jim chuckled, clinking his mug against Blair's. "To Jamie's first Christmas with us," he toasted. "And our first real Christmas together."

Blair grinned and clinked mugs.

"Thanks for indulging me with all this," Jim said, one hand laying briefly on his lover's knee. "I know it isn't exactly your thing."

Blair took a sip of his coffee. "I've celebrated Christmas," he shrugged. "And Chanukah and Ramadan and a dozen other religious holidays. None of them have much significance to me, but I could see what all this meant to you."

"Could you?" Jim probed.

"You wanted Jamie to have a real Christmas," Blair said.

Jim looked down at his coffee. "Yes..." he agreed.

"And it gave you an excuse to have one too," Blair finished, smiling as Jim shot a surprised look at him. "Come on, Jim, I know you, remember? Better than anyone else in the world. I think it's kind of sweet, all this stuff."

Jim felt his cheeks redden. "Great," he muttered. "Just what I want, to be sweet."

"Oh, dear, there goes the macho image," Blair said mournfully.

Jim supported Jamie by his padded bottom as he clambered up on slippered feet. "I think my macho image was blown away the first time I went to work with a diaper pin on my shirt," the cop joked. "No, seriously, this is the first time I have wanted to celebrate Christmas since..." Jim groped back into his memory, frowning as he skipped back over the years. "Since I was a kid. After my mom was gone it was just never the same. We lost the... wonder."

"And you want Jamie to have that," Blair nodded.

"Actually its even cornier," Jim admitted. "He's given me back the wonder. I am seeing it all through his eyes and it all means something again. Sounds dumb."

"Yeah, really dumb," Blair agreed, squeezing Jim's hand.

Jamie had toddled away from Jim's supporting hand and was now leaning against a large awkwardly wrapped arrangement with a huge lopsided blue bow.

"Ah, the sentinel gift-sense kicks in," Jim observed. "You know that's yours, don't you, piglet? Yeah, it's present time!"

"Wonder, my ass," Blair muttered. "It's all about presents for you, isn't it?"

"Bring on the loot," the big man growled.

Jamie's gifts were first, and he tugged at the paper as his fathers obligingly ripped a corner for him. He didn't seem interested in the contents of the parcel, he was distracted by the paper, preferring to scrunch the shiny colored stuff between his hands.

Once the wrappings were off his interest perked up as he spotted the bright wooden walker, loaded with an assortment of bricks.

"Toot toot," he said, clambering back to his feet and letting his father's hands guide him to the handle. He gripped it and pushed, tiny slippered feet tapping as the laden walker wheeled in front of him. Without having to worry about balance he took off at a great speed, narrowly missing Blair and slamming into the couch.

"Toot toot!" he yelled, an old hand at this walker business, experienced as he was in the model at day care.

"Ouch," Jim winced as Jamie drew it back and slammed the walker back into the couch. "Never thought of the furniture."

"He really likes it though," Blair consoled him, wincing sympathetically as Jamie succeeded in drawing the walker back and aiming it directly at the coffee table.

"Yeah," Jim agreed, brightening at his sons happy, if somewhat feral grin.

"Jamie," he called, wincing as the coffee table was struck. "More presents, come and open Daddy's present."

Jamie was coaxed back, and he tore into Blair's gift to him. "Story," he invited, spotting the big glossy picture books.

"Daddy will read you a story later," Blair promised.

The rest of the gift opening was going smoothly, until Jamie's present from his Uncle Steven was tackled.

"I don't believe it!" Blair exclaimed in dismay as a shiny cowboy gun and holster was revealed.

"Typical Steven," Jim frowned. Jamie pushed the parcel aside and scrambled back to his walker, and Jim let him go.

"Your brother delights in this, doesn't he?" Blair fumed, wrapping the Toy Story Christmas paper back around the offending toy. "First that drum for Jamie's welcome party, and now this... this violent toy!"

"I thought you liked the drum?" Jim said in surprise.

"Don't you defend your brother to me," Blair turned on Jim furiously. "You were the one who hid the drum away from Jamie in the first place."

"I'm not defending Steven," Jim said mildly, leaning over and correcting Jamie's aim so he had an unimpeded space to push his walker in.

"Can you tell me you want your son playing with that thing?" Blair demanded. "Do you want him seeing guns as toys, is that it?"

"Now it feels like Christmas," Jim observed as if to himself. "I mean, unless we had a knockdown drag-out fight on Christmas Day it just wouldn't be the holiday season, right?"

Blair looked dumbfounded and then he flushed to the roots of his hair. "We're not fighting," he mumbled.

"Well, I'm not," Jim agreed. "I don't know about you. I'm on your side, remember?"

"Yeah," Blair nodded, his flush fading a bit. "Your brother just knows how to push my buttons, that's all."

"He really does," Jim said in admiration. "We'll return the gift to him and inform him on our policy about violent toys, okay?"

"Okay," Blair agreed, leaning forward on his knees and hugging Jim around the neck. "Sorry, Jim."

"I'm sorry about Steven." Jim returned the hug tightly. "Now, lets leave the rest of Jamie's gifts until tonight, hmm? He's a little overwhelmed."

"And he'll be getting more at Joel and Angela's at lunch," Blair said. "So that makes it our turn, right?" He reached for the neatly wrapped box that Jim had been shaking curiously for days. "This is your first present. I have an extra special one for you tonight."

"Oh, yeah?" Jim leered.

"Open the box, Jim," Blair said dryly.

Jim pulled off the bow and lifted the lid, revealing a creamy knit pullover.

"Oh, Blair," he said reverently, pulling it out and holding it up, feeling the soft fibers caress his fingers. "It's beautiful."

"A friend of mine knits them," Blair said, flushing happily. "I picked the color and the pattern."

"Thanks, babe," Jim said warmly, kissing Blair and hugging him. "I'm not so sure about my first gift now."

"Does that mean I get a special one tonight too?" Blair teased.

Jim lowered one eye lid in a lush wink. "We'll see." He reached under the tree and tugged out a present. It was a big flat rectangle, obviously a thin hard cover book of some kind. "Wonder what this is?" he joked, handing it over to Blair.

"Hmm, a baseball glove?" Blair guessed, shaking the parcel and holding it up to his ear. Jim watched nervously as he finally began carefully unwrapping the hand printed, recycled paper, revealing the colorful cover of the book beneath.

"The Lorax, by Dr Seuss," Blair read tremulously. His sensitive fingers caressed the cover, tracing the bright words slowly, then he looked up at Jim, tears standing in his sky blue eyes. "How did you know?" he whispered, and Jim felt his heart clench in his chest at the emotion in Blair's voice.

"Do you like it?" Jim asked. "There's an inscription."

Blair opened the front cover with trembling fingers and read aloud the inscription written in Jim's bold, slanted hand. "To Blair, my perfect partner. To begin a new family tradition as we celebrate our new family. Read this book to our son, and teach him to cherish the written word as you do. All my love, Jim. Christmas 1998."

"I hope it's okay," Jim rushed into speech when Blair trailed away into silence, staring at the book. "Blair?"

Blair closed the book carefully and reached out to Jim, crawling into his lap. "I love you," he whispered into Jim's neck, and the big man wrapped his arms around his lover again and squeezed him tight.

"Oh boy," Jim breathed. "I thought I'd blown it."

"Naomi told you?" Blair asked and Jim nodded.

"How it was your favorite book when you were little, and how she would read it to you so often that you knew the words off by heart."

"I still do," Blair chuckled, sitting up in Jim's lap and rubbing at his damp eyes. "That book meant so much to me."

"She also told me how it got lost on your travels when you were older."

"Yeah, well, I guess I was interested in different things by then," Blair said ruefully. "You know, it's only lately I started thinking about it again, wanting to share it with Jamie. I had no luck getting it though, which is odd considering it was the best thing Dr Seuss wrote. It's a tough book to get."

"You're telling me," Jim returned.

Blair held the book out to look at it. "The first and best book about environmentalism ever written for children," he said fondly.

"Story," Jamie said in delight, spotting the shiny book. The child was already developing a love of books, and he liked nothing better than sitting on one of his fathers laps while they read to him from a story book.

"Story," Blair confirmed. He turned and planted one last kiss on Jim's bristled cheek. "Thanks, Jim."

"I guess I'll make us some breakfast," Jim said, watching as Blair made himself comfortable on the couch and then scooped Jamie up to sit on his lap.

As Jim pottered around the kitchen he watched Blair open the book and begin reading to Jamie, following the words on the page with his finger as he read them. Jamie watched with absorption, looking from the words to the pictures, totally focused on the book. He knew when Blair's finger ran out of words it was time to turn the page and he reached for it, halted as Blair carefully turned it first.

"I am the Lorax," Blair read. "I speak for the trees."

***

After breakfast they took Jamie out to the park to practice with his new walker along the pathways. It had snowed earlier that week, the first snow at this time of the year for a decade, but today the sky was clear and bright, only a few heavy clouds on the horizon.

Jamie toddled along behind his walker at a good speed and his fathers easily kept pace with him, occasionally steering him back on the path when he veered off onto the grass. Other children were out with their Christmas presents, shiny new bicycles and tricycles dotted the icy grass and pathways.

"A bike next year I think," Jim speculated as a little one whizzed by, streamers flying from her handle bars.

"We'll start with a tricycle," Blair corrected. "Darn it, Jamie, that hat stays on your head," he said in exasperation.

Jamie had tugged off his blue woolen cap, casting it carelessly aside as he continued on his way.

"He lives in hope that one day you won't notice him tossing it," Jim chuckled, retrieving the cap and tugging it back over tumbled brown curls. Jamie looked up at him. "Your brains will freeze, piglet," Jim admonished, pressing a snub nose with a gentle finger.

Finally Jamie's legs grew tired and he was hoisted up on Blair's shoulders while Jim retrieved the walker. The toddler shrieked with laughter from his lofty perch, clutching Blair's black woolen cap and kicking with his hiking boots.

Jim grinned at the sight, then laughed out loud as the baby again tossed his hat.

"Did he just...?" Blair spun on the spot as Jim nodded in confirmation, scooping the hat up again.

"Snow!" Jamie said as his father again squashed the hat on his head.

"No more snow," Blair told him while Jim looked up at the lowering sky.

"I'm not so sure," Jim said dubiously, and sure enough by the time they reached the truck the first fat flakes were falling from the sky.

"Snow!" Jamie shrieked joyfully.

"Sentinel weather predictions," Blair remarked curiously.

***

Angela greeted them at the door, a huge smile on her face.

"Merry Christmas!" she said happily. "Come in out of the cold."

Jim bustled in first, laden with bags and the folded stroller. "Merry Christmas," he returned, accepting the peck on the cheek she bestowed on him and heading straight for the guest bedroom to relieve himself of his burdens. Blair paused in the hall, Jamie held high in his arms, a bag full of treats dangling from his free hand. "Angela!" he greeted, leaning forward to kiss the older woman's cheek. "Merry Christmas! Thanks so much for the invitation."

"Wait 'til you taste the meal before you thank me," Angela joked. "Joel's cooking. Hello, Jamie," she greeted the baby.

"Snow," Jamie said succinctly. He then reached up with one mittened hand and tugged off his woolen cap. "Hat."

"What a clever boy," Angela admired.

"We can't keep hats on his head or mittens on his hands," Blair despaired, unwinding his own scarf, one handed.

"Let me take him while you take your coat off," Angela offered, but at that moment Jim reappeared.

"We'll manage, thanks, Angela," he said easily, plucking Jamie from Blair's arms. "Where are the twins, we've usually been mobbed by now."

"In their rooms out from under my feet, under threat of death." Angela rolled her eyes and the men laughed. "They are happily ensconced with all their 'loot' as they call it. Come on through when you're ready."

"Can you imagine having twins, Jim?" Blair asked, following Jim through to the spare room which doubled as a cloak room for dinner parties.

"Two Jamies?" Jim pondered, sitting the squirming baby boy down on the bed long enough to unbutton his duffel coat. "The mind boggles at the thought."

"Boggles?" Blair paused in stripping off his own coat. "You've been hanging around with Megan way too much."

Joel was in the spacious lounge room when they came through, a Christmassy apron wrapped around his middle.

"No chef's cap?" Blair asked with a grin, greeting his friend with a firm handshake, handing over the bag full of chocolate treats with a wink.

"Angela won't let me wear it in the house," the big man said mournfully, a twinkle in his eye as he peered into the bag. "Jim." he shook Jim's hand, then reached for the baby. "Ugnh!" he groaned theatrically as he lifted Jamie from Jim's arms. "He's growing so fast!"

"Say hello to Uncle Joel," Jim coached as Jamie stared into Joel's smiling face.

"Snow," Jamie said thoughtfully. He made wide eyes and waved his hands. "Snow."

"It's his word dujour," Blair chuckled. "He is absolutely fascinated by the whole concept of snow."

"He will stand at the patio windows for ages," Jim added, accepting the baby back. "Just watching it come down."

"Jim, Blair. Eggnog?" Angela called.

"No alcohol for me, Angela," Blair called back. He smiled as she appeared in the door way. "It's my turn to be the designated driver."

"What about you, Jim? Eggnog?"

"Sounds great." Jim accepted the glass, cocking his head to one side. "I hear tiny footsteps on the stairs," he announced, holding back that he also heard the excited chatter of the Taggert twins.

"I suppose I should unleash them now," Angela said, slipping off quickly.

"There goes the peace and quiet," Joel quipped. "Make yourselves comfortable, guys. You can put Jamie down, Jim, this place has been child proofed for years."

"All the same, you can't take your eyes off him," Jim said, sitting down on the couch and setting the baby down. The baby's little legs were working before he hit the ground and he was off and running.

"Look at him go!" Joel marveled, following the baby's bow legged progress across the room to his other father. "Last time I saw him he was barely managing a few steps."

"He's up to a dozen or so now," Jim said, taking a pull at the beer. On cue Jamie staggered and sat down with a bump. Undeterred he switched to a fast crawl and began pulling himself to his feet using Blair's legs as a ladder.

"How old is he now?" Joel asked curiously. "Nearly eighteen months is what we figure," Blair answered, tickling the baby's tiny ears just to hear him giggle. "When we found him we thought he was about a year old, which just shows how much we knew about babies. The doctors said he was closer to nine or ten months."

"And we've had him for eight months now, so we figure he's about eighteen months old," Jim finished.

"Jim was a bit worried about his walking progress actually," Blair said, and Jim frowned.

"I was worried?" he protested.

"But the doctor said most babies are walking at sixteen months, which was about the time he took his first steps, so he's not too far behind."

"I was worried?" Jim repeated. "You're the one who was quoting all that stuff from the baby books."

Blair ignored him and continued chatting amiably to Joel. "The doctor finally just told him that there's no such thing as an average baby, and anyway it was impossible to judge Jamie's progress because we know nothing about the first months of his life."

"I wasn't the one ringing the doctor at home," Jim persisted, and Blair interrupted him.

"Jim, what does it matter? You always get so caught up in details."

Jim was spluttering in outrage and Joel was choking with laughter when the twins erupted into the room like fireballs.

"Hi, Jamie!" Dana called, dropping to her knees by the baby.

"Hugs, Jamie," Kerry said, dropping to his other side. Jamie chortled and wrapped pudgy arms around Kerry's neck. Dana wrapped her arms around both of them and squeezed until they lost their balance and sprawled on the floor.

"Gently girls," Angela lectured.

Blair leaned forward a little anxiously, but Jamie was fine, tangled up in a heap with the twins, giggling with them.

"No greetings for us, as usual," Jim said playfully.

"Hi, Uncle Jim," Dana said with a giggle, sitting up. "Hello, Uncle Blair,"

Kerry, always the more affectionate twin, scrambled up and ran to give hugs to all the adults in the room. "Hey, Uncle Blair," she said shyly. "Dana and me know a secret."

Not to be left out Dana jumped up and ran to Jim. "Yeah, we know a secret."

"Well, it won't be a secret for long with you big mouths around," Angela laughed. "Honey, I think your goose is about cooked."

"My bird!" Joel said in dismay, jumping up and racing from the room.

"Jim sniffed the air. "It's smells fine," he pronounced. "Cooked to perfection."

"I can't believe it's Christmas already," Blair marveled for about the tenth time, pulling a bib from his pocket and tying it around Jamie's neck. "I hope you girls like what we got you."

"More presents!" Dana cheered.

"Mercenary beasts," Angela said fondly.

"Jamie was too easy to buy for in comparison with two little girls," Jim said. "Of course, he would have been happy with just the wrapping paper." Everyone laughed.

"Okay, some nice non alcoholic eggnog for you, Blair." Joel came back into the room and held out a tray. Blair plucked a glass mug off it. "Cola for the girls, now be careful," he warned as they took their glasses.

Joel waited until everyone was served before he stood up. Wrapping his arm around Angela's waist he raised his glass. "I have an announcement to make," he said over the babble of voices.

Everyone quieted down politely.

"I was going to wait 'til after lunch, but I think the twins might explode if they have to keep this secret another hour."

The girls giggled behind their hands and Jamie covered his mouth with his hand and mimed a chuckle.

"Angela and I are having a baby," Joel announced with a beaming smile.

"We knew that!" Kerry burst out joyfully.

"That was our secret!" Dana piped up, just in case anyone had missed the point.

"Congratulations!" Blair leapt to his feet and hugged Angela.

Jim also jumped up and wrung Joel's hand before engulfing him in a hug.

"You prolific dog," Jim said in masculine admiration and Joel grinned.

Jim and Blair exchanged partners and Jim took his turn hugging Angela. "I'm so pleased for you," Blair said to Joel, his eyes shining. "A new baby in the house!"

"You inspired us," Angela joked.

"We're going to have a baby brother or sister, Uncle Jim," Dana said, tugging on his pants leg.

"Maybe you'll have two?" Jim suggested. "Another set of twins."

"Don't even suggest it!" Angela moaned theatrically while the girls exchanged alarmed glances.

"No, Uncle Jim," Dana said firmly. "We're the twins."

"I see," Jim said seriously, trying to avoid the other adults eyes.

"Dinner is ready!" Joel said, with a chuckle.

"Dad bought our old high chair in from the garage and cleaned it all up for Jamie," Kerry said as they entered the dining room.

"Joel, you shouldn't have gone to so much trouble," Blair said, admiring the shiny chair.

Angela just smiled. "We'll get some use out of it."

They took their seats, Jamie up high in the twins old chair. Joel entered the room, carrying a platter with a glorious golden goose on it. The twins oohed and ahhed.

The man of the house laid the platter down and picked up a carving knife and fork.

"Merry Christmas to the Taggert household, and our dear guests, Jim, Blair and Jamie." Everyone applauded. "It is a tradition around here to share the our Christmas celebrations with people we care about. It's also a tradition to give the guests a chance at a speech while I tackle the difficult work of slicing this bird. Jim, Blair, either of you care to take a turn?"

Jim smiled gratefully at Blair as he rose to his feet. "Well, unaccustomed as I am to public speaking," Blair began with a wink, and the twins giggled. "I would like to start by thanking our gracious hosts, Angela, Joel and their beautiful daughters, Dana and Kerry," he said more seriously. "I have come to the conclusion that it doesn't matter whether you celebrate Christmas because you are a Christian, or because it is a family tradition, or even because you like to get lots of presents. What matters is the love in your heart at this time, love for your family, and your friends, and for your fellow man. Today I feel very lucky to be sharing that love with a roomful of friends and family. Merry Christmas, everyone!" he finished.

Angela reached over and hugged him, and the twins clapped enthusiastically.

Jim squeezed his hand and then nudged Jamie, who was watching the slicing of the goose with great interest from his high chair.

"That's your cue to say 'god bless us everyone," Jim joked, causing laughter at the table.

"Mare-kismus," Jamie said thoughtfully, and Jim nodded.

"That will do, piglet," he conceded.

The End.

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