“Okay, honey.” He took a seat at the island and she pushed his plate toward him. “Looks delicious.”
She fixed her own and joined him. They often ate at the island, because it was big and convenient, but she’d already thought about how they were going to move to the table when their child was bigger just so she’d learn that a family ate meals together and talked to each other. No telephones at the table, unless Johnny had to have one for work. One of the things Kat had never had growing up was a nuclear family that sat at a big table and talked about their day while they ate dinner together. She wanted that for her kid. At least Roman would’ve had that with Peter and Ludmilla for a while.
Johnny’s phone dinged with a text. She didn’t miss the way he glanced over at it, like he really wanted to look, but if they weren’t calling him then it wasn’t an emergency. He palmed the phone and slid it toward his plate but didn’t turn it over.
“You can look, Johnny. I understand.”
He shook his head. “It’ll wait until after breakfast. Baby, the french toast is amazing.”
“I’m glad you like it. I was going to save it for Christmas morning, but we’re having a breakfast casserole while we open presents instead.”
He stopped eating and leaned over to kiss her. “I love you.”
She couldn’t help the way her body seemed to melt every time he touched her. “And I love you. This is the best Christmas for me in a very long time.”
“Me too.” He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear and went back to the french toast.
Kat nibbled her lip as she toyed with her eggs. She had so many things on her mind lately, and she didn’t quite know how to deal with them all.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
Kat looked up to find him watching her. She loved how tuned in he was to her, how he just knew when something was off. She also hated it because it meant he could easily worry about her when she didn’t want to distract him. “Nothing’s wrong. I just can’t help but be a little scared about all this. Not the birth,” she added quickly. “Raising her. I don’t know how to raise a kid. I’m not twenty anymore. And I’ve never had a normal life. What if I screw it all up? What if I screw her up?”
Johnny tugged her chair over close to his and put his arms around her. “Honey, it’s more likely I’ll be the one to screw her up. I mean how’s she ever going to date with me hanging around, growling at boys and cleaning weapons when they show up?”
Kat snorted. “Oh boy, you would, wouldn’t you?”
“I would and I will. Little will they know you’re just as lethal. Unless you want to clean your guns too?”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Sure, I’ll clean my guns. We can lay them all out on the dining room table while we do it. Or maybe the coffee table while she watches a show with a boy. What age can we start this?”
“I dunno. You think five is too early?”
He was about to send her into a fit of giggles. “Five? That’s a little early. I’m thinking twelve. She’ll be entering puberty and getting interested in boys around then, so why not?”
“Okay, so twelve years old, we clean guns when she invites a boy over. You want to put that in the calendar, or do you want me to?”
“I think we’ll remember.”
He kissed her forehead. “You’re going to be great, Kat. We’re going to be great together. I mean yeah, I for sure don’t know what the hell I’m doing. But you’ll keep me on track. We’re going to have a great daughter. She’s going to have the best we can give her, and she’s going to be smart and more capable than either of us can imagine. Hell, we might have a future president on our hands. You never know.”
Kat hugged him tight, tears pricking her eyelids. “I’m glad you’re so positive. I am too, really—I just get a little overwhelmed at times.”
“You can always tell me the truth, babe. When you’re overwhelmed, let me help. We’re partners and equals, and Elena is my kid as much as she’s yours. I’m changing diapers and getting up in the middle of the night and doing my turn with everything—except breast feeding, for obvious reasons.”
She laughed. “You’re a goofball.”
“I can be. Not many people know that, so keep it under your hat, okay? Can’t have my reputation as a hard ass taking a hit.”
He was teasing her now and she loved him for it. He managed to chase away the doubts with his silliness. “It’s our secret. But never divorce me because I’ll tell everyone. I’ll take out billboards on the Beltway.”
“Divorce you? Not possible. That word doesn’t exist for me. It’s you and me and Elena forever.”
“Sounds perfect to me.”
“Come on, finish your breakfast. I’ll do the dishes and we can watch one of those movies on our list.”
“Which one?”
“Whichever one you want, baby.”
“A Christmas Carol.”
“Then that’s the one. Eat.”
She did.
11
December 25th
Mendez woke early again, shoveled the driveway again, and went inside to find that Kat was still asleep. He took the casserole she’d prepared the night before from the fridge and put it in the oven, following the instructions she’d left on the counter. Thirty minutes later it was done and Kat came shuffling in, red hair piled on her head in a messy bun as she yawned and mumbled, “Merry Christmas, Johnny.”
He put a cup of decaf in her hand and kissed the top of her head. “Merry Christmas, Kat.”
He led her to the great room and seated her in front of the tree. Then he returned with a chunk of the breakfast casserole on a plate and gave it to her. He went back for one for himself before joining her. They ate a few bites, then put their plates on the coffee table while he handed out the presents for them to open. They hadn’t bought a lot for each other simply because they’d been planning for the baby, plus they already had the things they wanted.
But Kat got misty-eyed over the necklace he gave her. “It’s beautiful,” she said, and he knew she was close to crying.
“Like you,” he told her. He stood and fastened it for her, and she stroked it with her hand, lifting it to look at the diamonds.
“One for each of us. That’s so sweet, Johnny.”
“That’s me, honey. Sweet.”
He grinned and she sniffled. “Well, you are. For me.”
“For you,” he acknowledged. He opened his presents from her—a sweater, a fancy remote control for his man cave, a shirt that said Baby Daddy on it and made him laugh, and finally a set of heavy silver desk frames that she’d populated with photos. The first was of her and him together at their wedding. The second was of Roman. Mendez thought he was about eight or so in the photo. The third was blank.
“I thought you could put all of us on your desk. We’ll get one of Elena soon,” Kat said softly.
His throat was uncharacteristically tight. “That would be wonderful.”
Kat put her hand on his knee. “If you want to keep it private, your desk here is fine too. You don’t have to take the pictures to work.”