Someone – or something – is bothering her. And a few days before Christmas, too. His only Christmas wish is that Harry gets to spend a few peaceful days with her family.
He tries not to, but it's difficult not to watch Harry talking on the phone. They're at work, but she excused herself, saying she needed to 'take this'. So far she's bitten her bottom lip, sighed twice, and rubbed her eyes. Whoever is on the call with her, is testing her patience. He should know; usually, he's the one causing these reactions. A part of him is amused, but the other is worried.
"Is everything okay?" he asks.
"It's just my family," she says, pretending to clean up her already immaculate desk. Dempsey's eyes are still on her, waiting for her to explain. He won't pressure her for details, but that doesn't mean he isn't curious. "Well, it's Annabel."
"Ah, your favourite sister. What did she do this time?"
"She decided to book someone to play Santa for my nephew, Donald, this year. The man isn't well and now they can't find anyone else so close to Christmas. And my sister is panicking and making Freddy upset. Christmas is apparently ruined…" Harry shakes her head despairingly.
"I can do it." The words are out before he has a chance to consider what he's letting himself in for.
"Dempsey, I can't ask you to do that."
"I'm offering," he says. "We can't have him sad that Santa didn't turn up."
"Dempsey, he's three years old. I don't think he even knows who Santa is. You really don't have to-"
"I want to," he says, taking one of her hands into his. "Please."
"Under one condition," she says and he waits. "We're not telling Annabel until Boxing Day."
Dempsey grins and says, "deal."
There's not much time, but Dempsey does his research. Harry assures him that there's a Santa costume at Winfield Hall that he can use and asks Harry a million questions about her nephew as he drives, a mini interrogation down the M4. It all depends on how Donald will react to him. If he's at all like his mother, this could turn into a disaster.
Freddy is already waiting for them when they arrive. He hugs Harry and shakes Dempsey's hand as he ushers them inside.
"I sent Annabel and Angus out for lunch and Donald is taking a nap. You need to hide, James." He's never seen Freddy so much in his element. He urges him towards the scullery.
"It is the best place," he says. "Harriet, darling, show him where everything is. I've hung the Santa suit up. See you later." Freddy winks at them and Dempsey chuckles as Harry leads the way.
"They want this to be perfect for Donald. It's not too late to change your mind." Harry switches on a light in the small room that's just off the large kitchen. A single bulb hangs above them.
"Harry, I'm in your father's house and your sister might ruin the holiday. It's too late to change my mind. I don't want to anyways," She nods and worries her lip again. If she keeps going like this, she'll bruise it. He touches her shoulder, hoping to distract her from whatever is troubling her. It works.
"I haven't thanked you."
"You have," he says, inspecting the Santa costume and pushing a finger into the foam belly.
"No, I haven't." He turns to her, uncertain of her tone. He can't read her for once. For a moment, she simply gazes at him, as if trying to find the right words and it takes all his willpower to not fill the silence.
"Thank you, Dempsey," she says, her voice quiet. Then she does what he hadn't ever dared to hope. She places her hands on his chest, and kisses him softly on the mouth. His eyes flutter shut and even as she lets go, he doesn't want to open them again. He wants to bask in this moment and keep it forever.
"Don't fall asleep on me," Harry jokes, prompting him to crack open one eye. She's wringing her hands, so he takes one into his.
"Thank you," he says. "For letting me spend the day with you."
"Dempsey, you're doing us a favour."
"Harriet, are you there?" A voice asks and they both startle. It sounds like Angus, her brother in law.
"I better go," Harry says, as reluctant to leave as he is to let her go. "Make it fifteen minutes and I'll get them all ready."
"One more for good luck?" He shouldn't push it but she smiles at him and presses another quick kiss to his lips before she runs out. Now all he can do is wait.
He puts on the suit, wishing Harry was still here to help him. The beard goes on last and there's no mirror, so he can only hope he's disguised himself.
His heart is racing as he makes his way up the stairs. He can hear chattering and what is clearly a very excited child. He has to do this right. Donald probably won't remember this in the years to come, but his parents will. His grandfather will. And, most importantly his aunt whom he has disappointed in the past. He takes a deep breath before he peeks through a crack in the door.
"Are you excited to see Santa?" The gentleness in Harry's voice makes Dempsey falter momentarily. He can ruminate on the longing and the future another day; screw Simone and her gossip.
"Santa!" The little boy exclaims and Dempsey decides that this is his moment.
"Ho, ho, ho." He steps out and Donald escapes from Harry's arms and walks toward him on his small legs. He stumbles once and almost falls, but Dempsey catches him and is met with large eyes.
"Santa," he whispers in awe.
"Hello, Donald." He tempers down the Brooklyn twang as best as he can.
"It me! It me!" he says excitedly, turning to his parents, who are full of love for their little boy.
"Were you a good boy last year?" Dempsey asks and Donald nods his head enthusiastically.
"Pesants," Donald says. "Purlease?"
"Donald!" Annabel chastises and Dempsey is careful not to look directly at her.
"I have presents for you, Donald. You asked me for a big bag of building blocks, is that right?" Again, Donald nods, peeking at the bag Dempsey brought with him. There are several presents in here, but Harry pointed out the one Donald is to be given now. He takes it out and hands it to the small boy, whose eyes are shining.
"Do you need help, sweetie? Let your daddy help you," her sister says and Dempsey shoots a glance at Harry.
When Angus comes over, he only has eyes for his son as he gently helps him tear the wrapping paper. There are squeaks of wonder when he sees the colourful building blocks and demands to play with them.
"What do we say, Donald?" Annabel says, pointing at Dempsey, who hopes that she doesn't look too closely.
"Fank you, Santa!" Donald turns to him and throws his arms around him. His beard gets out of place and he quickly rights it, hoping no one saw it.
"We have biscuits for you… Santa," Harry says. "Say goodbye, Donald."
"Bye." The boy is no longer interested in Santa now that he has the toy he's been waiting for. The adults chuckle and Dempsey feels their eyes on him. He bows and waves before he runs a hand over Donald's soft hair, his heart lurching. One day, he'll father a child with Harry, he just knows it.
"I'll show you the biscuits," Harry distracts him from his thoughts and follows him out of the living room and downstairs to the kitchen.
Once they're safely hidden, he pulls the beard off, grinning at her, "How was I?"
Harry puts her arms around him as well as she can with his giant fake belly between them. "Thank you, Dempsey."
"You already said that," he reminds her, trying not to think of the kiss they shared earlier.
"You were amazing."
"Keep talking."
"I'd rather not." And her mouth is back on his. He's so surprised that he gasps into her mouth before he reciprocates. He forgets where they are and doesn't really care either way. He's kissing Harry. And she's kissing him as if there's no tomorrow. This is the best Christmas he's had in years. Or maybe it's the best Christmas he's ever had.
"What the hell is happening here?" Annabel's astonished voice makes them jump apart. "Why were you kissing Santa, Harry?"
"None of your business…" Harry says, trying to shield Dempsey and he'd laugh if Annabel's eyes weren't narrowed at him.
"Annabel," They all turn to Freddy, who appears behind his eldest daughter. "Think about your son and how happy he was to see Santa. James did that for us."
Annabel looks at her sister and Dempsey. "But Donald might see him again."
"I'm leaving already," Dempsey shrugs and pulls off the coat.
"Actually," Freddy says, shuffling his daughter out of the door. "It's up to Harriet and it's almost time for Donald's tea, he'll have other things on his mind."
"I want you to stay," Harry says once they are left alone. "If you want."
"What do you think?" He leans down and kisses her again, softly this time. "I need to change out of this costume."
"Do you need my help?" Harry smiles at him and he doesn't know how he got so lucky.
"Always."