Christmas for Daddy Chapter 10
Once Christmas Eve services had concluded at St Matthew's Cathedral, Booth and Brennan had returned home with their drowsy children. As soon as warm comfy pajamas had replaced Christine's velvet dress and Hank's miniature suit, Brennan brought a tray of hot cocoa to their bedside tables. She smiled at her husband rocking back and forth, their son soundly asleep in his arms.
Pops' little namesake was too tired and zonked out to even notice the treat. His mother lifted the boy and tucked him into the white toddler bed, while Booth took a sip of the warm chocolate drink. Brushing tousled hair out of his boy's face as he'd once done for Parker, the deeply satisfied father smiled in quite awe.
A decade earlier, this wondrous scene had been far out of reach. Who would have guessed, that day in American University Lecture Hall IV, the statuesque woman he gazed at would become his wife? What a dream come true his Bones had given him.
The subject of his thoughts watched his face change. She recognized his emotions very well, sharing his wonder that their situation had ever become reality for the next 40 or 50 years. Picking up the cocoa tray, she followed her husband down the hall to their daughter's room. Christine was sitting on the side of her bed, staring at a lacy sock in one hand.
"Hey, Monkey, you plan on wearing that to bed?" Booth asked her with a quiet chuckle. He took the sock and laid it on her dresser as Brennan handed Christine the mug. The little girl took a drink and smiled up at her mother.
"Tha's yummy cocoa, Mommy, but I'm reeaally tired. Can I finish it in the morning?"
"Certainly, Baby Girl. Lie back and let me straighten your covers," Brennan replied softly. Once the colorful Frozen comforter and soft white sheets were smoothly in place, she kissed Christine's forehead and stepped aside slightly for Booth.
"Night, Daddy," Christine murmured.
"G'night, Cupcake, sweet dreams, sleep tight," Booth answered, kissing the top of her head. "Mommy and I will see you in the morning."
The couple left the bedroom door ajar, and descended the stairway arm in arm. They finished off the cocoa, rinsed the mugs and placed them in the dishwasher.
"I was going to give you one present tonight, Bones, but I'm as bushed as the kids!"
"I suggest we postpone our gift exchange until tomorrow evening, or perhaps a moment when the children are engaged in playing with their new toys," Brennan agreed.
"Christine worked very hard on your gifts, Booth. She was delighted when her Brownie leader came up with a practical idea for each family. I realize you helped her achieve the same for me. My journal and pencil holder will be very useful in January. Our child has experienced the fulfillment of giving presents she fashioned herself. An achievement she'll treasure in the future as much as I did."
"Oh? What gifts did you make for Max and your mom?" Booth asked with a smile.
"Each year, I made a calendar at school for them. Our teacher would mimeograph sheets with the date grid, and we children could draw a picture for each month. Once we finished, the sheets were stapled together with a ribbon at the top for hanging the calendar. It seemed to be useful to my parents, as they hung it in the kitchen and wrote on it all year."
"I mainly wove potholders for my mom and Grams," Booth confided. "Those yarn loops left lint all over the carpet and sofa, but Mom just cleaned them up before Dad came home. She never complained, and always acted very surprised Christmas morning," he remembered.
"Some of our childhood memories are positive, at least," Brennan said softly, wiping her eyes.
"Yes, they are, my Bones, and you've made more wonderful memories possible for our children and me," Booth declared, hugging her tightly.
"As have you, Booth. It has been a very satisfying Christmas Eve so far, and tomorrow should be quite enjoyable too."
"That's assuming we get some shut-eye before Hank lands in the middle of our bed at 5:30 a.m. Let's hit the hay, Bones! Last one in bed has to start the coffee!"
"Good night Booth. Merry Christmas," Brennan murmured, slipping her nightgown over her head.
G'night, my sleepy Bones. I'm too tired to do more than kiss you, Mrs. Booth. Sleep well, my love."
Shucking his clothes where they landed, Booth pulled on sleep pants, slid in beside his wife, and turned out the bedside lamp.
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a Good night!" he muttered as he followed her into slumber.