I'm sorry it took a while for me to get this chapter up; I hoped I could get it up on Christmas day, but I didn't :( Thank you so much for all of you who reviewed! So here it is and it's super long and that is my Christmas present to all of you! Enjoy!
Peter and Elizabeth sat at their kitchen table sipping coffee when a bed-headed little boy came pattering down the stairs. He stumbled sleepily over to the adults at the table and El had to stifle a giggle at how silly yet adorable he looked. The child's nice dress shirt was halfway untucked and hitched up on one side while the sleeve on the other side was pushed up. To top things of, little Neal had stray curls poking out all over his head and his sleepy blue eyes hung half open. The motherly figure stood up and went over to the small child and smoothed out his shirt as well as his hair. "Good morning sweetie, merry Christmas Eve!" she cooed.
Neal mumbled a thank you when Elizabeth fixed him up, normally he would've fussed saying he was a big boy, but he wasn't awake enough for that. "Ga' mownin, merwy Chwistmas Eve ta you too," he said with a sleepy smile as he walked past El and Peter into the kitchen. He reached up onto the counter towards the coffee machine and pulled the pot out.
Elizabeth swiftly made her way over to the child and put her hand on the coffee pot and shook her head as she took it from him. Peter chuckled, "Sorry Squirt, you're too young to have coffee." Neal looked over at him and stuck out his bottom lip in protest. Then he looked to El with his brightest, biggest blue puppy dog eyes.
"Pweease Elizabef? Just a cup," he pleaded.
Elizabeth replaced the pot into its rightful place and tapped the boy on his nose, "Nope, sorry Neal but Peter is right." The little boy grumbled but was not mentally prepared for arguing persuasively. Instead he made his way past El to the pantry as he surveyed for some breakfast food. "Neal, sweetie, why don't you go sit at the table with Peter while I make everyone some breakfast?" Elizabeth offered sweetly as she placed her hands on the boy's shoulders and steered him to sit at the kitchen table. Neal did as he was told but wondered to himself. No one had ever made breakfast for him; he wasn't used to this at all. He sat next to Peter who had the morning paper hiding his face as he engrossed himself with reading. The boy decided that he wouldn't bother the older man with talking, but rather sat on his knees, propped his elbows up on the table and read the side of the paper that Peter wasn't looking at.
Curious as to what the figure in front of him was doing, the man lowered the paper enough to peer at the young boy eagerly reading the backside of the news. "Neal, are you actually reading this?" Peter asked surprised; surely a five year old couldn't read the New York Times.
The boy nodded his little head and then added, "I'm a very good reader; I read all sorts of hard books."
"Really?" Peter asked with slight disbelief. When the boy nodded again and continued on with his reading, Peter requested, "Can you read out loud for me? I want to hear what your reading."
The child didn't respond but simply began reading aloud, "In 1998, Robert Evans, the least bashful producer in Hollywood, suffered three strokes in rapid succession. Their combined effects were so debil-itat-ing that it was not clear whether Mr. Evans would ever walk, talk or chase women again. But as his new memoir, "The Fat Lady Sang," makes clear, at least Mr. Evans's capacity for bragging and self-promotion remained mercifully unimpaired." Neal finished reading the paragraph with very little mistakes and only sounding out one word.
"Great job Bud, you are a good reader," Peter applauded. Then he was curious how Neal knew how to pronounce memoir; the other words he could sound out if he didn't know them, but memoir was not spelled how it sounded and it was French in origin. "How did you know how to pronounce memoir?" he decided to ask as he set down the paper focusing all of his attention on the little boy in front of him.
"I've read people's memoirs before," he stated simply. "And I'm learning French." Peter's eyes widened in disbelief; was there anything this tyke couldn't do? Maybe he should try and get the squirt to play baseball. The baseball fanatic could only imagine the potential this intelligent kid could have.
Joy filled the child's face as Elizabeth set down a beautiful plate of sausage and toast in front of both boys. "Merci Mademoiselle!" Neal piped in gratitude for the food, but also to show off his French skills to Peter.
Elizabeth laughed at the child's use of another language although she knew exactly what it meant, "You're welcome." The motherly figure ran her hand through the little boy's curls.
After all three were finished eating Elizabeth stood from her chair, "Okay Peter, I leave cleaning up to you and Neal. I need to go shopping." She winked at Peter indicating her shopping would be for the little boy in between them. The kind woman was going to buy some new clothes and maybe a few toys for her new charge.
"Okay, the boys will do their share," Pete said as he brought the plates over to the sink but then whirled around when the realization hit him. "Wait a minute, you're leaving the kid here with me?!" Neal looked a little offended at this comment and Peter stepped closer to El and lowered his voice so the child couldn't hear. "I don't know how to take care of a five year old!"
Elizabeth laughed, "You'll be fine." She got down at Neal's height and put a hand on his tiny shoulder, "You'll be a good boy, won't you?" she asked kindly. Neal smiled and nodded his head yes. Usually he didn't like it when people used that kiddy tone with him and called him a good boy, but when Elizabeth said it she sounded so genuine. He decided that only she was allowed.
After saying kissing Peter goodbye, Neal even let Elizabeth hug him. And then the boys were left alone and Peter was out of his element. Sly little Neal could sense the agent's discomfort and decided to use it as his advantage. "So um kiddo, what do you wanna do?" the older man asked hesitantly.
A smile lit the boy's face as he answered, "I like art! Do you have any colored pencils or paint? Crayons are no good!" It was necessary to emphasize the last part in order to get what he wanted. Peter rummaged through drawers looking for the requested items but came up empty. He only found a couple crayons from when his nephew had come over, but crayons were no good.
"Alright, grab your coat and we will head off to the arts and crafts store," Peter sighed in defeat.
When they arrived at the store Peter took Neal's hand and led him through the isles while the boy picked out some acrylic paints and Prisma-Color pencils. Both supplies were very mature for a five year old and Peter knew enough to figure that children usually used Rose Art pencils and little kiddie paints. "Are you sure you want these ones? These supplies are for adults."
"Nope, I definitely need these ones," The little boy said adamantly. Peter gave a sigh but complied with the youngsters request; it was Christmas Eve after all. Neal saw how easy it was to convince Peter and tried to swindle him into buying some canvas, but it didn't fly. All he got was a multi-purpose sketch pad.
The two boys arrived home and Neal got started on drawing in his new sketch pad while Peter settled into watching a baseball game. A couple hours had passed and Elizabeth had walked in on Neal sitting at the kitchen table with Satchmo by his side while Peter watched TV in the living room. The man got up to greet his wife but El shushed him before he could say anything. She motioned her head towards Neal at the table who had not turned around yet and Peter put two and two together to figure the bags in her hands must be the boy's Christmas presents. The strong Man took half of the bags out of his wife's hands and helped her upstairs. Once safely in their own bedroom the two put the bags down and Peter wrapped his wife in a hug and gave her a kiss. "Hey Hon," he smiled.
"Hey, how was your day?" she asked returning her love's smile.
"It was uneventful," he stated plainly. "We went shopping for some art supplies."
"Well I'm glad it was easy," she said as she turned her husband around and pushed him out the door. "Now I have to wrap presents and you're back to babysitting," she said with a wink and shut the door. Peter gave a disappointed sigh but returned downstairs to Neal who had noticed his missing presence. The little boy sat quietly just staring at the Christmas tree that contained only Peter's and El's presents under it.
Looking over the boy's shoulder at his sketch pad, Peter's jaw dropped. Neal had sketched a beautiful drawing of Satchmo lying under the Christmas tree, fully decorated, with the few presents scattered underneath. The boy had used many shades and hues of each color and the drawing looked nothing like what a five year old was capable of, but rather a masterful piece that most adults couldn't even draw. The little boy smiled up at Peter's shocked gaze and then turned to Satchmo and petted his head. Little arms wrapped around the dog's neck and the boy put his face up to the side of the golden lab and whispered, "He doesn't know me at all Satch, not at all."
A while after dinner, Peter and Elizabeth came downstairs with mini mountains of presents wrapped in all kinds of Christmas patterned paper. Neal stood in the family room with his jaw dropped to the floor as his wide blue eyes took in the site in front of him. He watched awestruck as the couple placed the red and green packages with golden bows under the tree. There were even some blue snowflake presents. He dove on his knees to the presents and surveyed each one and saw that his name was written on them. Neal. He turned to stare at the couple standing above him with wide caring smiles on their faces and their hands wrapped around each other. And then tears welled up in his crystal blue eyes and began to spew down his soft rosy cheeks.
El quickly dropped down next to the boy and wrapped him in her arms, "What's wrong sweetie?" Peter still stood dazed at the scene of the child crying. Out of all the reactions he imagined, a happy child jumping around saying thank you or an eager boy wanting to rip through the wrapping, a sobbing Neal anywhere on the list. He lowered himself next to the boy and rubbed the child's back not really sure how to comfort a crying child. "Neal honey, you can talk to us." El said in a comforting voice.
The little boy looked up at the adult's faces through tears in his eyes. "I-I've neber g-gotten a Chw-Chwistmas pw-pwesent befowe," he sobbed. El let out an aww and her face expressed that her heart had just melted. Peter's own heart clenched at the poor boy in front of him and he could only imagine what the small child must've suffered through. He wished he could ask Neal about it but knew that this was not the time. Then Neal tried saying something else, "An-And I didn't g-get y-you guys any pw-pwesents," he said in between sobs.
Peter instinctively pulled the broken child into his lap and wrapped his arms around him. "Oh it's okay buddy. You didn't know we were getting you anything and we certainly don't need presents. We just want you to have the best Christmas you possibly can," he spoke softly. El gave a loving smile to her husband telepathically praising him for comforting the child. And it was working, Neal burrowed his head into Peter's chest and his cries slowly turned into sniffles. El continued stroking the boy's hair and wiped away his tears.
When the small boy had been pacified El lifted the child out of her husband's lap and held him around her waist. His little head cradled into the nook of the woman's neck and shoulder and his tiny fingers grasped her shirt. Normally the independent boy wouldn't display such affection but he was already half asleep and did so unconsciously. Both adults couldn't help but smile in adoration at the little boy. "I think it's time for bed," El said gently to the little boy in her arms as well as her husband. "I got you some new pajamas today too that you can wear."
Neal opened his shiny blue eyes and looked at Peter, "I need my art stuff." Peter nodded and gathered the boy's supplies as he followed his wife carrying the child upstairs.
After Neal was dressed in his little blue Superman pajamas, the couple tucked him in and
El gave him a goodnight kiss on his sweet little forehead. "Merry Christmas Neal and goodnight. The sooner you go to sleep, the sooner you can open up presents."
Peter stood in the doorway behind her wife, "Goodnight Buddy, sleep well." And with that, the two budding parents returned downstairs.
The next morning, Peter groggily awoke and rolled over to kiss his wife good morning. El did the same although she was a little more aware and spoke a gentle merry Christmas to her husband. After both had dressed suitably they headed downstairs only to find a bright eyed boy fidgeting excitedly on the couch. In his arms was a thin mess of wrapping paper that looked as if there were no present in it. But he ran up to the two adults as they stepped down of the stairs and held it up to them with a proud beam on his face. "Merry Christmas!" he squealed happily.
"Oh and what's this?" Peter said with a chuckle as he took the thin wrapping paper, but as he held it in his hands he could tell there was something like a sheet of sturdy paper inside.
"It's a present I made you!" Neal chirped. "I woke up reeaaally early this morning to make it. I hope you like it," he blushed.
"Of course we will love it cutie," Elizabeth said as she put an arm around Neal's shoulders and the three of them returned to sitting on the couch. Peter carefully undid the wrapping paper because he didn't want to rip whatever was inside. As they revealed the sketchbook paper, both El and he gasped. Neal had sketched a beautiful portrait of him and El sitting with Satchmo in between them. The likeliness, colors, and shadows were almost perfect. "Oh baby," El said as she held her hand up to her mouth. "It's beautiful!"
"Wow champ, I'm lost for words. This is amazing!" Peter joined with his wife in appraising the artwork.
Neal grinned proudly and his ocean blue yes shimmered, "Thank you," he said bashfully. "I'm glad you like it."
The rest of the morning was filled with tearing open wrapping paper and excited childish giggles. Neal had received some new clothes, a stuffed animal, a couple books, and even some toys for Christmas and there wasn't a happier tyke in the entire world. He showered Peter and Elizabeth with thank you's and the prospective parents relished the gracious feeling they received from observing the child's joy. They promised to themselves that they would do anything they could to keep his smiles and laughter constant.
Merry Christmas! And please review, I love all of the reviews I get and if you want to give me a Christmas present then leave it in the form of a review!