Lee found Dotty by following the noises of exasperation coming from the garage.
"Dotty? Are you in here?" he called out, worried when he didn't see her right away in the dim light.
"I'm up here, Lee Dear," said a voice from above his head. Indeed, his mother-in-law was perched up on the half loft, a large box beside her and a tangle of wires in her lap.
"And what on earth are you doing up there?" he asked.
"I thought it would be nice to try and get the outdoor Christmas lights up this year," she answered, as he realized what that was in her lap. "We haven't done much of it for the past few years, but now that everything is settling down a bit in the family, I thought it would be nice to get back to some of the old traditions."
"And that giant display Lydia Pearson has going on down the street wouldn't have anything to do with that thought, would it?" he laughed up at her.
"It might," she dimpled back. "But even though I'm sure we put these back carefully last time, I swear Christmas lights just purposely tangle themselves up when you're not looking. I can't get these sorted out, no matter what I do."
"Well, let me have a try," said Lee, holding up his hands. "Give 'em here." He waited for Dotty to drop the tangled mass into his hands, followed by the box beside her, then turned to offer her his hand to guide her down the ladder, tsking with disapproval. "You could have hurt yourself – you should have asked for help."
Dotty chuckled. "I'm only sixty, Darling – still well within the age where I can climb a ladder without supervision." She reached to pat his cheek. "And I'm also still young enough to appreciate a good looking young man looking after me, so thank you for worrying."
Lee smiled back, feeling again the rush of warmth that he actually got to worry about her openly these days instead of always skulking in the background trying to protect Amanda's family. "My pleasure," he said, completely truthfully. "Now let's see what we can do with these."
Dotty led the way back inside and went to make coffee while Lee started the arduous task of untangling. He began to understand why Dotty had been having problems as the lights themselves kept him from being able to easily pull the string through the knots, and then, as he got more and more untangled, having that much more length to pull through as well.
An hour later, it was finally done – accomplished only with Dotty helping by holding one end, and with lights draped across the sofa and around the chairs so they could see what they were doing, both of them helpless with laughter every time a new knot appeared in sections they swore had already been straightened.
"That was like the worst game of Twister ever," said Lee, collapsing against the kitchen island and swigging the now-lukewarm coffee Dotty had poured him.
"And next we have the worst part," said Dotty eyeing the string of lights with a sigh.
"The worst part? How can putting them up be worse?" asked Lee.
"Oh putting them up isn't next, Lee Dear," she answered, eyes twinkling. "Next we have to find the burnt out bulbs."
Lee tilted his head, not sure what she meant. "Yeah, so? We plug them in, we replace the dead bulbs – what's so terrible about that?"
"How did I know you'd ask that?" Dotty gave a theatrical sigh. "You know so many things, Lee, but you definitely don't know how Christmas lights work."
"I do," said a new voice. Jamie had wandered in the back door, slinging his school backpack on the floor and reaching for the cookie jar. "It's a series current and there's a single fuse and fifty bulbs and each one is only rated for two volts or something, because that's the current spread out across all the bulbs, right?"
Lee nodded, feeling like he might have learned something about this is an Agency bomb-making course years ago, not that he'd volunteer that information, of course. "Okay, so?"
Jamie rolled his eyes, and tried not to look pleased that he knew something Lee didn't. "So the fuse has a built-in safety, so that if one bulb goes, none of them will turn on because then the higher voltage would blow all the other bulbs. Boom!" This last word was accompanied by a spray of cookie crumbs as he made the universal hand gesture for an explosion.
Lee began to get an inkling of the problem. "So if we plug these in now, and they don't come on, we have to check every bulb to find the burnt out one?"
Dotty and Jamie nodded.
"But what if more than one is burnt out?" he asked. "Or what if they're all burnt out?"
"Or what if the wiring is shot?" added Jamie helpfully. "That can happen if they've been sitting kinked up for too long."
"So we might have done all that and they'll still be broken?" he asked ominously. "And you didn't think to mention that?" He glared at Dotty who was trying unsuccessfully to hide her mirth.
"But Lee, that's part of the fun," she said. "It's a Christmas tradition! You said you wanted to learn those!"
"Again… pretty sure I didn't," he replied, now also having trouble not laughing. He straightened up, stretched as if he was about to run a race and approached the end of the light string. "Okay, men – do your duty." He leaned down and inserted the plug into the socket and… nothing.
There was muffled snorts behind him as he glared at the plug. He turned to find Dotty digging out a box of spare bulbs. "Would you like a fresh pot of coffee?" asked Dotty. "Could be a long day."
It was all worth it, Lee decided later, when Amanda pulled up and he got to see her face when they turned it on as she walked up the path. Her face lit up with a childlike glee as bright as the lights, as she took in all the work they'd done.
"Did you do this?" she asked, knowing how ridiculous that sounded since who else would have, even if Lee hadn't been beaming at her, obviously thrilled at her pleasure at the surprise.
"With a lot of help," he answered, gesturing at the boys who were bouncing with excitement on the doorstep.
"Thank you all so much! It's beautiful!" Amanda gushed. "And I'll be able to look Cheryl on the PTA in the eye again this year!"
Dotty appeared on the doorstep. "Come inside, everyone! I've made cocoa! Amanda, you'll need to get the marshmallows out of hiding."
"I'll be right there, Mother. I just want to enjoy this for a minute longer," Amanda called back.
The boys jostled their way back inside, leaving Lee and Amanda outside alone.
"It really is beautiful," she said softly, wrapping her arms around his waist and snuggling into him as he kissed the top of her head. "You must have worked all day on this."
"Well, the worst part was getting them untangled and trying to find the bulbs that weren't working," he admitted. "Your mother said it was tradition but I still think she was yanking my chain about that."
"Oh no, we go through that every time we try and put these up," said Amanda, shaking her head. She sighed and squeezed him a little tighter, head turned so she could gaze at the lights as they cuddled.
For a moment, Lee thought she was shivering when he felt the slight tremor in her body, but a beat later, recognized it for what it was: Amanda trying not to laugh out loud.
"What?" he asked, lips twitching.
"How long did it take you to give up and go the store for new lights?" she asked, giving into the giggles when the guilty expression went across his face.
"About thirty seconds after we plugged them in the first time and they didn't work," Lee admitted, also starting to laugh. "How did you know?"
Amanda reached up to give him a long lingering kiss, before turning to hook her arm through his and lead him toward the house. "Because that's the other part of this Christmas tradition!"
They paused under the doorway, where Dotty had mischievously hung a piece of mistletoe, and kissed again.
"At least we have an answer to the age-old question," said Amanda, thoughtfully.
"And what age-old question would that be?" Lee was already starting to laugh
Amanda looked at him with an overly-innocent expression. "How many spies does it take to change a lightbulb?"
Lee barked out a laugh, then leaned in to whisper in her ear, "We haff ways of making you light up," before goosing her as she passed him to walk inside.
Amanda gave him a knowing look over her shoulder. "Do we? My, oh my, I'll look forward to that."