Traditions
Part 1 of 3: T'was the Night
By: ioanhoratio
Yes, another Christmas story, but I couldn't resist. How else can we enjoy a DL Christmas? (For afrozenheart412-Merry Christmas!)
"Lucy!" Danny called for what felt like the millionth time, "Get away from the Christmas tree."
Lucy immediately dropped her chubby hands from around the bright, red ball that was hanging from a limb close to the bottom. She swayed slightly, then finding her balance on her short legs, walked over to where her father sat on the couch. She wedged herself between his knees and looked up at him with her drowsy, blue eyes.
"Peety Daddee," she told him, her tone pleading.
Danny pushed her blonde bangs away from her face affectionately, but firmly maintained, "I know it's pretty baby, but it's not a toy for Lucy to play with. It's something we look at, k?"
Lucy nodded her dramatically, but Danny knew that she was not comprehending. Her childish mind simply was drawn to the twinkling and shining of the tree. It had been a lot easier last year when she was barely crawling and unable to reach the tree. This year was a whole new experience, having to constantly watch her. They'd already lost three ornaments thanks to Lucy's grabbing and tugging.
"No duching," Lucy repeated-a phrase she had heard quiet often recently.
"That's right, no touching," Danny affirmed, pulling Lucy up into his lap. She tucked her little body against his and rested her face against her favorite spot, just under his chin. He could tell she was getting tired. She was a sweet, loving child, but an extremely active one who usually reserved all her cuddling and snuggling for bedtime. She absently reached a hand up and lazily ran it back and forth against his cheek, another ritual that was common when she was tired. She liked the scruffy feeling of his 5 o'clock shadow, and Danny couldn't believe how much he treasured the small sign of affection. It was their thing.
They sat for a moment, both distracted by the images on the TV, some Christmas cartoon special, but it wasn't long before Lucy asked, "Momma?"
"Momma'll be home soon," he promised, glancing at the clock. It was nearly a half hour passed Lucy's bedtime, but Lindsay had begged him to keep her up. It was Christmas Eve, and Lindsay had been held up at work, then stuck in holiday traffic. She had wanted to eat dinner together, sing a few carols, bake some cookies and tease Lucy about Santa visiting. At this point they'd be lucky to get a song in before Lucy nodded off.
"Duce, Dad-ee?" Lucy asked suddenly.
"Nah, baby girl. It's too late for juice. You can have water or a little bit of milk."
"Tacolet?"
Danny shook his head at his daughter's persistence. "No, not chocolate milk, only regular, or water."
Lucy thought for a moment. "Milt pees."
Danny easily stood, his grip on Lucy tight, as he made his way into the kitchen. With the skill born from repetition, Danny maintained a hold on his daughter while taking the milk out of the refrigerator, grabbing a sippy cup, pouring the milk into the cup and locking the top in place. He handed the cup to Lucy, who immediately began drinking the cold liquid.
Danny hoped it would help her stay awake a little bit longer. She'd been bathed and dressed in her purple footie pajamas and Danny knew that if she was up much longer she would just pass out and that would make for one cranky baby girl on Christmas. He'd just made the decision to give Lindsay 10 more minutes when he heard the front door open.
Lucy pulled her lips from the spout on the cup and gasped with pleasure. "Momma 'ome!"
"Momma's home!" Danny agreed enthusiastically, and the pair trotted into the living room.
"Momma!" Lucy called when she saw her mother, who had just finished taking of her shoes and dropping her bag.
"Oh!" Lindsay cried happily, "You kept her up." She pulled Lucy into her arms and cuddled her daughter close, ignoring the tiny stream of milk that ran from the upturned cup onto her shirt. Danny took the cup from his daughter, and smiled at the scene, glad he had decided to keep Lucy awake. The look of delight that had passed between mother and daughter had made dealing with a tired toddler worth it.
"Yeah, she's awake, but just barely," Danny said, indicating how Lucy's head continued to rest against Lindsay's shoulder.
Lindsay gave an understanding frown. "Yeah," she breathed sadly, her disappointment apparent.
She rallied though, and turning towards Lucy bedroom called, "Come on Daddy, we can get at least one tradition in."
Danny didn't hesitate to follow, and soon he and Lindsay were lying on Lucy's tiny bed with their daughter wedged between them. Before getting in bed, Lindsay had grabbed a book from Lucy's shelf and handed it to Danny.
"A'right," Danny began, "Mommy, you comfy?"
"Yep," Lindsay answered.
"Lucy, you comfy?" he asked his daughter.
"Yep," she mimicked, then asked, "Dad-ee oo 'umfy?"
He wiggled around dramatically causing Lucy to giggle, but then finally answered, "Yep." He held the book up so that everyone could see the pictures and then in his deep, gravelly voice started to read, "T'was the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring not even a mouse..."
The parents shared the responsibility of ooh-ing and ah-ing at all the right places, they added sound effects, and funny voices, and wove a story of magic and wonder for their little girl. Lucy listened enraptured by the beauty of it all.
Soon the story ended, and goodnight kisses and I-love-you's were passed around, but neither adult made a move. They lay smiling at each other, and shared knowing looks as they watched their miracle give several huge yawns. It wasn't long before Lucy's eyes stopped fluttering, and her breathing evened out.
"She is so beautiful," Lindsay whispered, reaching a hand passed Lucy's head. Danny immediately responded, by linking his fingers with hers. "Watching her sleep is one of my favorite things to do."
"Yeah," Danny agreed softly, his thumb slowly rubbing against the back of her hand. "I think she looks the most like you when she's asleep."
Lindsay's response was cut off by her own yawn.
Danny gave a chuckle. "Come on Montana. If we don't get up, we'll both fall asleep, an' then how're we gonna explain to Lucy that Santa forgot to wrap all 'er presents."
With a groan Lindsay rolled away from her daughter, careful not to cause to much disruption to Lucy's slumber. She stood and stretch her arm out to Danny. He too, gingerly disentangled himself from the blankets and pillows and allowed Lindsay to pull him up.
Once standing he wrapped his arms around his wife, and they couldn't resist taking another moment to gaze at the product of their love for each other. Before leaving the room, Lindsay clicked on Lucy's nigh light and Danny flipped the big light off.
"We have so many presents to wrap," Lindsay complained, making her way into the living room.
"You were the one who wanted to wait until tonight," Danny pointed out.
With a shrug Lindsay responded, "Well, it's tradition."
Danny heard the wistfulness in her voice. "I'm sorry tonight didn't turn out the way you wanted."
Lindsay gave him a small, appreciative smile. "Yeah, getting stuck at work, and then in stop and go traffic was not how I wanted to spend the evening. I was really excited show Lucy all the things I did when I was a little girl; baking cookies, unwrapping one present, singing carols, ya know?"
Danny nodded. "I liked getting to read her that story. That's a good tradition. We should do that every year."
Lindsay's smile grew. "My Dad would read that to us every year. It's a memory I treasure, and I love that Lucy is going to have that with you."
Danny beamed. "Come on, let start wrapping these gifts and you can tell me about cuttin' your own tree or making gifts out of straw and a tomato or whatever else your other Christmas traditions were growing up in Montana."
She rolled her eyes but eagerly answered with, "And you can tell me about growing up with Christmas in New York."
Danny happily indulged her tone. Since Shane Casey's terrorizing of their family it had been a difficult time for Lindsay. He was contented by the easy smile on her face, and her tension-less eyes. He would tell her anything she wanted to hear, as long as it kept that look on her face.
End Part 1
Thanks for reading!