All familiar characters belong to Janet. Mistakes are mine alone. All products mentioned are ones I've seen.
"Very subtle, Babe," I said, when my girls stepped off the elevator to meet me in the lobby after being told that I'm back from the patrol I offered to take when my wife ratted Woody out.
He wanted to be there when his brother's flight lands at JFK, but wasn't willing to ask me to alter schedules to give him the day off. Luckily for him and his family, my wife definitely isn't afraid to approach me to discuss anything. I took Woody's shift, and while I was gone … Christmas threw up all over the ground floor of my building.
"People have called me many things," Steph said, after she took her sweet time kissing me, "but subtle was never one of the adjectives aimed at me. This is Olive's first interactive Christmas, and though she won't remember this one either, I want her to experience and enjoy all the lights, decorations, and overall happy mood. But I can admit that Ella and I may have gone a bit overboard."
She glanced around the lobby, trying to see it through my eyes. I used to allow a small tree to be set up on the front desk and whatever the men who celebrate a different holiday along with - or an alternative to - Christmas felt comfortable sharing. Employing men from completely different backgrounds, cultures, and countries, is a bonus education in of itself.
Since I've relaxed on the idea of decorations being cleared for my business, mainly due to Stephanie's influence, my building isn't a stranger to Menorahs, the seven candles to make up the Mishumaa Saba, miniature versions of Parol lanterns, a colorful 'Feliz Natal' sign hung up in the control room above the monitoring station, and a nativity or two placed on top of a table or file cabinet, to name just a few. These days at Rangeman, you don't receive only a Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays salutation, but an overall peace on earth reminder-message. Living the lives we do, we've learned that we're all just trying to survive this world together. The more allies to aid in accomplishing that goal, the better.
My wife went a pure Jersey route, and an aisle of multi-colored light-filled trees ushered clients in from the door and either right to the front desk or to the elevator. My immediate thought is I hope to hell Gunny and Mo haven't decided to 'christen' them. Oversized ornaments hung from ribbons secured to the ceiling, and one of the large silver globes Olivia is currently using an unfamiliar toy in an attempt to get her little hands on it.
"Hey, Baby. Who's your friend?" I asked Olivia, when I took her out of Steph's arms for an 'I'm glad to be home' hug.
"Izib Obib," she answered, placing the toy an inch from my face so I couldn't miss it.
"Do you need a translation for that one?" Steph asked me.
"Please."
"Uncle Hector gave our baby an early Christmas present. A reindeer-wannabe named Olive, too. I'll warn you now, between the stand-up Christmas tree book that plays music that your parents gave her, and now this 'Olive the other Reindeer' book with stuffy toy, our bedtime is going to be challenging."
"As if getting our daughter to sleep at night is ever a seamless endeavor?"
"Some nights are easier than others," she replied, "but tonight won't be one of the easy ones. Turns out Shorty wasn't just being a smartass in suggesting a double big-girl-bed for an unplanned sleepover for our daughter and me."
"She'll be fine, Babe. Will you?"
"Yeah ... eventually," she said around a grin. "I just got used to actually having a baby. And now she's waving baby-dom bye-bye."
"Is that true, Olivia?" I asked my daughter, waiting until she lifted her head from my shoulder to flash her smile at me. "How big are you now?"
Never one to disappoint, my baby flexed her guns, mirroring what her Mama chose to do.
"We're smart, tough, strong, Rangewomen. Aren't we, Olive?" My wife asked.
"And also amusing and incredibly beautiful," I said. "I can't seem to take my eyes off either one of you when I'm home."
"That's because Daddy loves us," Steph explained to our daughter. "It's not really our fault that he's completely obsessed with us, is it?"
"It is your fault ... and I'm not complaining for a minute about it," I admitted.
She went up on tiptoes to kiss me and then Olive, and also retuck a few stands of her dark hair back behind the Christmas bow headband our daughter wasn't sporting when I'd left this morning.
"I'll see your accusation and raise you a 'what are you going to do about it?" Steph responded.
I have a whole list of things I wanted to do with her that I was willing to share, but I was quickly reminded that she and I aren't the only people living and working here.
"Hey, Steph, can your Dad have a beer?" Ram shouted from the door of the stairwell, just as our daughter was ready to attack the Olivia-sized tree beside us.
"I guess, as long as it's only him having one, no one on duty. Just make sure a bag of chips, a sandwich, or bowl of cocktail peanuts, gets handed to him with it. I want the suds soaked up by food before he leaves here."
"Yes, Mama Steph," he teased.
"Olive, let's see if doggy-reindeer Olive can fly all the way over to Uncle Ram's head."
I caught the stuffed animal as it was being drawn back in my baby's arm. "You know the rules. No flying reindeer in the building," I told them.
"Yep, Daddy's definitely home," my wife shout/whispered to our daughter.
"Thank God," Ram said, before hauling ass back up the stairs before Stephanie could throw something blunter than a stuffed animal at him.
"Sure, he acts like a tough guy now, but guess who was helping Olive make pipe cleaner candy canes twenty minutes ago?"
"I'd guess half of my workforce, Ram included among them. Your father's here?"
"Yeah. He had stopped by Valerie's place while I was getting decoration advice from her, now that Olive can do more damage than just trying to smack a snowman or wave at a Santa statue. Dad then asked if I needed help setting up a tree or hanging lights up. I can't decide if it's funny or sad that he doesn't know that I can't even say the word 'ladder' around here without twenty guys saying they'll take care of any climbing I need done."
"Frank's likely just as used to people not offering to help him as you are."
"Yeah, that's the sad part I was considering. But since he's been here, I'm confused again."
"About what?"
"He's loosening up with the guys, male bonding being helpful in this case. He was bringing cookies Grandma had made to Val's, and he did come here afterwards believing I needed help, but he's not really bothering with Olive, Val, or me, very much. It's almost like he was in the Burg ... he could stand to be around us only if he was being occupied by something else. It's something I'm going to have to bring up with the family-fixer next talking-it-out session my Dad, Val, and I have together. After the last couple of weeks of what we've put your head-doctor through, I hope you gave him a Christmas bonus that he can use to pay for his own therapy. He'll need some after trying to get my side of Olive's tree closer to functioning normally. Hey, that's pretty funny. Talk about a Plum-themed rhyme."
"Thank you for not putting yourself through a one-sided confrontation by letting a professional field it."
She cut her eyes to me. "I've learned that not everything is my fault or my problem to solve. Call it a Christmas miracle."
"I'd say that's more hard work done on your part, not a miracle bestowed by some unseen force."
"Who needs a miracle when you're my totally seen and appreciated force. Would you like an early present to prove it?"
"Olivia is still awake, Babe. We'll have to wait until she's asleep for me to thoroughly 'appreciate' my gift."
Although our daughter isn't old enough to understand the innuendo, Steph covered Olive's ears with her hands.
"I'm not talking about enjoying me, though I'll share that 'gift' idea with you later on tonight. I meant something I bought because I wanted you to have it." She removed her hands. "Olive, when we get up to Daddy's office, do you think you can find the Santa box hidden in there to give Daddy?"
Olivia tipped her head all the way back against Stephanie's legs to meet her Mama's beautiful blue eyes. "Daddee zanzas," she tested out.
"That's right, Olive-Pie. We're looking for a little box with Santas all over it for Daddy."
"You could just give it to me or put it under the tree in our apartment," I pointed out.
"Where's the fun in that?"
I saw her point when we got into - and then out of - the elevator and we proceeded to watch Olivia run, skip, and plop, around my office with Mo and Gunny trying to help her out even though they clearly don't know what they're looking for. After about ten minutes, our baby rose the Santa-wrapped box high above her head like she's reenacting that scene in the Lion King, which I had taken Julie to see when she was little.
"What a good job, Olive," Steph told her. "I bet you'll get a Daddy-kiss if you can walk that over to him without dropping it."
Olivia took her mission seriously and kept the present in both hands while carefully escorting it to where we were standing. As curious as I am to see what Stephanie bought for me, I wanted to hold my baby more. I curled both hands around her little waist and brought her close, kissed her in thanks, and kept her with me by implementing a gentle bear hug.
"Since you found Mama's gift, Olive," I told her, "you get to help me open it."
I, and the hounds, took Olivia over to my desk and I sat down with her still on me. Steph followed us and straightened the strap on our daughter's overall dress that has a prominent snowflake on the front which I still believe is just asking for a blizzard to hit, before perching on the corner of my desk to watch our progress.
The paper was toast once Olivia ripped it off in sections and flung them to our side and onto the floor. Gunner immediately began a mission of turning it into confetti. By the second scrap, Ammo joined him.
I felt Steph looking at me, so I paused in chronicling the chaos to meet her eyes. "Cleanup on floor five," she teased.
"Wrapping paper ... the gift that keeps on giving," I said with a matching bemused grin.
The trio lost interest once Olive hit box, so I took over and opened it, lifting out a leather cord-bracelet with the date Steph and I met engraved in Roman Numerals around the silver token's circumference.
"You see the stone in the middle of the circle?" Steph asked me.
"Yes."
"If you aim a light behind it, it projects words 'I love You' in one hundred different languages onto any solid surface. Whenever you're having a bad day or a night that won't let you sleep, I want you to take this off, find a light, and remember how much I, and our girls, love you, to help you get through it."
I couldn't speak for a solid thirty-two seconds. "Thank you. You'll never know how much you, and these words coming from you, mean to me."
She shifted her position to lean forward and kiss me and Olivia, who became re-fascinated now that she has a new 'toy' to grab hold of.
"I'm not so sure about that," my wife said, "considering how I feel about you. You don't even have to tell me you love me in a hundred languages, which I'm betting you can probably do. You show me that you do more than a hundred different ways every day."
"What can I say ... you bring it out of me. Merry-almost-Christmas, Babe."
"Right back at you. Your daughters and I are gonna make this Christmas a good one for you and everyone else we love here."