Jack shouldn't have laughed.
It had only earned him a stern look from an alarmed Kate. He could almost see the cogs turning in her brain as she tried to come up with an answer to Aaron's query.
She directed a similar look at James when he egged the boy on. The blond man swallowed hard, quick to remember that getting on Kate's nerves wasn't a good idea, before scurrying off to find Juliet and the other children.
It had been Kate's idea for the two families to get together for Christmas, at a cabin where there was at least a chance they'd get to see snow on Christmas morning. It was the only thing she wanted for Christmas, to get out of the city and enjoy time in nature, with proper seasons.
Juliet had been excited, as well. After the birth of their son, she'd hardly been able to get out of the house, so she'd jumped at the chance of going somewhere and having more people around to help care for the baby. At only 8 months, baby Liam was quite a charmer, with dimples that matched his father's and two bottom teeth that he liked to flash at the grown-ups when he smiled.
The cabin wasn't very big, but it was enough for the seven of them. Despite only having two bedrooms, there were enough beds for everyone, with each suite having a single and a double bed. James had been grateful he'd remembered to bring a pack-and-play they could use as a crib for Liam.
The highlight had been the fireplace, where they'd made sure to hang their stockings after they were done decorating the tree they'd spent forever picking out at the tree farm earlier in the week when they'd arrived. The cozy wintery atmosphere reigned in the cabin, with hot chocolates by the fire and Christmas movies at night before bedtime.
It'd been a perfect Christmas, the best Jack had ever had — not that his other Christmases had been very hard to beat. But James and Juliet had been struggling with Clementine. She was growing up too fast, much faster than James was comfortable with. And, after missing out on the early stages of her childhood, he wasn't ready to lose her belief in Santa yet. Just shy of 6 years old, Clementine was starting to question the whole idea of Santa Claus, losing her faith in magic that can't be explained.
Jack wasn't sure whose idea it had been, but somehow, he'd ended up on Santa duty. The goal was to not be seen laying out the presents, as was the general rule, but in case Clementine decided to put the investigative skills she'd inherited from her father to good use, she'd see Santa and, hopefully, have her belief renewed for the following year.
The beard had been the worst part. It'd been so scratchy that he'd ended up with a bit of a rash on his neck, at the end of his real stubbly beard. He'd made the effort to not tug on it in any way, careful with his scratching, in case the kids were still awake as he brought in the presents late at night.
Kate had been awake, cleaning up the post-Christmas-dinner mess, a task she'd taken upon herself after the Ford couple had cooked them such a fabulous meal — more James' doing than Juliet's; she had never really been good in the kitchen. The kids had been tucked in earlier that night after James had read them "A Visit From Saint Nicholas".
His favorite part had been eating the cookies Kate had baked and decorated with the kids earlier that day. It had been too cold to go outside and it was a tradition she wasn't willing to let go of, as it was something she used to do with her dad before he left her and her mother. He'd made sure to leave some crumbles behind, convinced that a semi-dirty plate was more believable than a clean one.
Jack had marveled at the tree, fully decorated, blinking lights reflected on the wooden floors, a large pile of presents with red, white, and gold wrapping paper neatly arranged at its foot. As hot as he'd been in that Santa suit, if it had future Christmases feeling this good, it would've been worth it.
He'd gone to meet up with Kate in the kitchen just as she was exiting. They nearly stumbled into each other, laughing a little at their own distractedness. Above them hung the mistletoe James had insisted on putting up. "Just an excuse to kiss my girl", he'd said, making a point of it by smashing his lips against Juliet's until Clementine started faking gagging noises.
Jack had pointed up at it, a silent request, sly smile on his lips, under the mess of a fake white beard. Kate had rolled her eyes, a matching smile on her face as she stood on the tip of her socked toes to press her lips against his in a kiss. "You taste like sugar cookies", she'd commented, before strutting towards the stairs and heading to their bedroom.
Neither of them had seen Aaron, but it was clear from his question that he'd seen them. "Why did you kiss Santa, Mommy?", he'd asked, a frown on his little face showing all the anger his little four-year-old self could muster and that was when Jack had laughed.
"Why do you ask that, buddy?", he said, trying to see just how much the boy had seen.
"I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus, Uncle Jack. I saw it, right there!", he pointed at the archway that led from the kitchen to the living room, where the remnants of the wrapping papers still lay discarded amongst brand-new toys. "Aren't you mad?"
Jack saw Kate visibly relax out of the corner of his eye as he focused on Aaron. The boy was clearly concerned and he felt like part of that was his fault. He'd left them once — a stupid decision he'd made with a hot head and immediately regretted. It'd been the hardest six months of his life, as he'd tried to regain Kate's trust and love, but eventually, he'd won her back and he had no plans to ever let go. But he could see how worried Aaron was that he would and that, this time, it'd actually be because of Kate.
He picked up Aaron, pulling him into a tight hug at first, before adjusting him on the curve of his arm and carrying him to the archway. "Do you know what this is?"
"A mister toe."
"Yeah, and you know how Uncle James and Aunt Juliet are always kissing under it?" He watched as Aaron nodded slowly, eyeing him suspiciously. "Well, that's what you do under mistletoes. You kiss the person that's under it with you. So, you see, Mommy had to kiss Santa."
"But Mommy didn't kiss Uncle James when they were talking under it.", the boy retorted.
"Yeah, but Santa is magic. That's different."
"Besides", Kate interjected, approaching them. "You have to ask first. You can't just go around kissing people."
Jack wrapped his free arm around her shoulders, the three of them together under the mistletoe. "So, you see, bud? It's all good. But we're not going to go around kissing Santa again, are we, Kate?"
"No, my kisses are all reserved for my boys."
At that, Jack gave Aaron a look, both of them smiling.
Kate looked at them, confused, until Jack started talking again. "On the count of three: one, two, three!"
Aaron launched himself into his mother's arms, "Mommy, can we kiss you?"
"Of course, you can."
Both Jack and Aaron pressed a kiss to either of her cheeks, earning a string of sweet interjections from the Ford family on the couch and a complaint from Clementine about how her dad and Juliet should kiss on the cheek too, not on the lips.
Aaron, Santa kiss and breakfast forgotten, wiggled his way to the floor and ran back to his new toys.
Kate leaned into Jack's side, their arms wrapped around each other as they took in the scene before them. Their friends on the couch, laughing at something cute their baby had done, the kids playing peacefully together on the floor. Life was finally good again.