“Hey, love,” Dara called as he came into the house.

“Hi baby,” I smiled from the floor where I was playing with Fern, “How's your foot?”

“Totally healed, but I did get yelled at for how much stress I put on it dancing with you at the wedding,” he laughed, bending down to kiss me, “I got the rest of Fern's gifts you wanted. I'll put the tree up tonight. Did the ornaments we ordered come in?”

“Mhm,” I nodded, watching as he went to open the slow cooker on the counter, “Don't touch! You'll mess up the roast.”

“But it smells good,” he whined, “Fine. Did you eat lunch?”

“Waited for you,” I yawned, trying to ignore the nausea I was experiencing lately, as I had hidden it from Dara, “I just want something light. Can you bring me one of the salad jars I made?”

“Sure. Oh, Mario told me the shop looks good. They're all grateful we closed for the holidays, I guess Kip never did,” he brought my lunch and a fork over before grabbing his own and sitting on the floor next to me so we could watch Fern play, “How's our princess?”

“Happy. We've been playing the entire time you were gone.”

“Dada?” Fern babbled, trying to grab my fork.

“No. Spicy,” I laughed, and Fern turned to Dara, toddling over to him.

“Papa,” she smiled, holding her mouth open, and we both stopped eating, staring at her, “Papa!”

“Did she… call me Papa?” He whispered.

“Y-Yeah. I think she did,” I laughed, “You do consider her your daughter, Day, it's not that surprising.”

“Did you teach her that?”

“I might have,” I cleared my throat and he leaned over, kissing me quickly, “Ew, you have vinaigrette on your lips!”

“Sorry,” he laughed, “Thank you. I don't consider Fern my daughter, though. She is my daughter. It makes me so happy to have my special name now. But why, Papa?”

“That's what you used to call Rian before you switched to Dad. I always thought it was cute. Plus, I'm going to be Dad, you needed something different.”

“That I did. Fern, no,” he snorted, holding his food up as she was still trying to steal from us, “I know for a fact Daddy already fed you. You're on a strict schedule.”

Fern started to pout, smacking at Dara, who gently set his food on the coffee table and took her hands, staring directly into her eyes.

“No,” he said sternly but kept his voice calm, not wanting to scare her, “We don't hit. Gentle hands, Fern. We never hit.”

She kept whining and he stood up, taking her with him and gently bouncing, waiting for Fern to calm as I watched in awe from the floor.

“Why are you staring?” Dara laughed.

“You were born to be a dad, weren't you?”

“Oh. I suppose. You know how much I love Fern. I have since you had her and we've always had a strong bond. I was the second person to hold her after all, she knows the sound of my voice and heart about as well as yours,” he shrugged as Fern calmed down, laying her head on his shoulder, “There we go. I think you're just sleepy. Papa has you, just rest.”

“It's almost her nap time,” Smiling, I finished my salad and jumped up, carefully taking Fern, “you eat. I'll go put her down for her nap and wrap your Christmas present. You are banned from our bedroom until I'm done.”

“But I want to be with you,” he pouted, sitting on the couch.

“If you so much as open the door, I’ll take back our Christmas fun we planned for tomorrow.”

“Wait, no, I need to taste you, I'll be good,” he panicked, making me laugh softly as I headed into the nursery.

Fern fell asleep in my arms twenty minutes later, and I set her carefully in her bed, tucking her blanket around her. We had swapped her crib for a floor-level bed with rails, wanting to encourage independence while also keeping her safe. Dara had dismantled the crib carefully, putting it in the garage rather than getting rid of it as it was in perfect condition.

I left her room after turning on the monitor and rushed over to kiss Dara, making him smile.

“I'll set up the tree. Why did we wait until Christmas Eve exactly?” He yawned softly, cleaning his glasses on his sweater.

“Because we didn't trust Fern not to break every single ornament on the tree.”

“Oh, smart. Okay.”

I headed into our room as Dara went to the garage and locked the door behind me, going to my underwear drawer. I reached into the very back to pull out his gift and took my time wrapping it in a long box, hoping he wouldn't panic when he opened it.

Once I was done, I hopped into the living room to find that the tree was done, and the gate we had found to keep Fern away from it secured to the wall. Dara had the four boxes of blue and silver ornaments, silver tinsel, and white bows all spread around him as he checked to make sure the lights were working, as I had bought an artificial tree covered in fairy lights.

“Oh, it's so beautiful already,” I gasped, setting his gift on the coffee table.

“Right? It twinkles. Good pick, baby,” he hooked his finger into my belt loop and pulled me over, giving me a quick peck, “You should have been an interior designer or something, our home is so put together.”

“I think I'm happier running a barber shop with my fiance,” I giggled, fixing the button on the collar of his sweater, “Let's get as much as we can done before Fern wakes up. I want to wrap the toy vacuum we got her for tonight, and then once she's asleep, I'll get the rest done. What all is it again?”

“Well, we agreed on only five from us, so it's the plush barn with the farm animals, her wooden stacking hearts, the baby doll, and then that little pink pretend Vespa to help her balance. It's a balance bike, right?”

“Mhm,” I nodded, hanging up the first box of ornaments, “I'm sure she'll get a few from your parents and our coworkers since they're all coming to your parents for Christmas. Gem and Jett wanted to, but they'll be with her family, and Nick went with Crystal to Tennessee. So we'll have Mario, Jo, and Halley.”

“This is the biggest Christmas we've had. Ever.”

“We built our own little family thanks to the shop. Did you keep to our second agreement? Only one gift for each other because Christmas is about spending time together, not what we get.”

“Yes, I promised you so I did.”

“Good.”

We had just enough time to decorate the tree before Fern woke up, toddling around her room as I watched on the monitor to see what she would do. She went to her toy box and grabbed out the toy puppy with its bathtub Dara had bought her, sitting on the floor to play with it.

“She's getting used to waking up on her own and staying busy until we get her. That's so good,” Dara sighed happily, “Can I get her? I want my Fern snuggles.”

“Of course, honey,” I laughed.

Dara rushed over and quietly opened her door, peeking his head in.

“Papa!” Fern squealed, making both of us laugh.

I kept watching the baby monitor, Fern using her hands to get up and walk over to Dara, holding her little hands up and clenching her fists to ask to be picked up. He immediately scooped her up, kissing all over her face as Fern laughed, pulling his hair and trying to grab his glasses.

“Ooh!” Fern cooed when Dara brought her out to see the tree, her eyes wide.

“Do you like it?” I walked over and hugged Dara, resting my head on Fern's back.

“Lights!” She bounced happily, her speech developing more every day.

“We put up the pretty lights just for you, baby but you can't touch,” Dara kissed her cheek and Fern nodded, short brown curls bouncing, “Ew,” he scowled, holding her away from his body, “she leaked through her diaper. Come along, princess. It is time to cleanse you,” he snorted at the silly medieval voice he was doing, Dara easily making himself laugh multiple times a day.

“You're an idiot,” I called after him.

“You agreed to marry this idiot, what does that say about you?” He yelled back.

“That I'm an idiot too!”

“Damn right.”

I laughed softly and went to serve dinner, the roast wonderfully soft and flavorful after I tried it. I paired it with a fresh salad and French braid for us, English muffin pizza with mixed fruit for Fern as she was a bit picky and liked the same few dinners throughout the week.

Dara brought her to her highchair, and I set her plate down, pouring milk into her sippy cup before joining Dara at the dining table with our dinner.

“Ah, I forgot drinks,” I started to get up, and Dara shook his head, going to the kitchen.

“Wine?” He called, and I swallowed slowly.

“Not tonight, no. Can I just have sweet tea?”

“Sure. Do you mind if I have wine?”

“Not at all, babe. You don't need to ask.”

Dara came back a few seconds later, and we started to eat, Fern happily feeding herself as she kicked her legs.

“Fern, are you happy?” I reached over to clean the sauce from her nose, and she nodded, “I'm so happy you are. I made banana ice cream so you can have a tiny bit before your bath.”

Fern wiggled her shoulders, making both of us laugh, and dinner came to a peaceful close as it always did. Dara did the dishes as I played with Fern, our normal routine to get her extra energy out before bed. We ran around the backyard, played with cars and Play-Doh at the dining table, and finally, she showed signs of being tired just before eight pm. I gave her a long bath with her lavender soap, brushed her 12 little teeth, and we went to her room, where it was quiet and cool. I turned on her white noise machine and kept the lights low, relying on a lamp next to the rocking chair as I brushed out her hair, Fern resting in my lap in her pajamas. I realized she hadn't opened her gift, but decided it was best to just put her to bed, not wanting to repeat her routine all over again.

“Goodnight,” I whispered as I rubbed Fern's back once I tucked her in. I had been sleep training her, not wanting her to be reliant on one of us holding her.

She never replied, and I quietly left her room, closing the door behind me. Dara was on the couch, watching basketball highlights, and I tossed myself into his lap, yawning as I did.

“I wrapped all her gifts and yours while you did her night routine,” Dara kissed my shoulder, and I reached back to run the nape of his neck, “Do you want to do our private gift exchange now?”

“Absolutely.”

Dara picked me up, setting me next to him, and went to the tree, pulling out a medium-sized box and placing it in my lap as he squatted down.

“I know you're not big on material crap. Neither am I. But I wanted something to remember our first Christmas together as fiancés. Open it,” he gestured with his chin, and I quickly opened the box to find a framed photo of us that we had taken at a skating rink on our last date.

Under the black and white photo, it said “Our First Christmas Engaged,” followed by the date, and I wiped a tear away, hugging the frame to my chest.

“I love it,” I whispered, “It's perfect. We can bring it out every year. But we should take one when we get married, too.”

“That was my plan,” he leaned up to kiss me as I cradled his cheek, a tear rolling down my face, “You like it that much?”

“Yes. It makes my gift seem not as… special.”

“I'll love anything because it's from you, baby.”

I grabbed the box from behind me and set it in Dara's palm.

“Hm,” he shook it gently, “A watch?”

“No, but I can see why you'd think that,” I giggled quietly.

“Necklace? No, wait, you know I'd never wear one. A fancy pen? I have no need for that. Not wide enough to be personalized scissors.”

“I forgot you always do this. Please just open the box before I have an aneurysm, babe.”

He finally opened the box and sat on the ground, staring at what was inside. He looked up at me and then the box once again, finally pulling his surprise out of it.

“Ren…”

“Surprise,” I whispered, wringing my hands.

“You're pregnant,” he sniffled, and I nodded quickly, “We’re having our second child?”

“Yes. I'm 12 weeks today. Which means I got pregnant at Nick's wedding.”

“You think the picture is a better gift than this? This is the best day, oh my God,” he put the positive pregnancy test back in the box and got on his knees, pushing my sweater up to kiss my navel, a bright smile on his face, “Hey you,” he whispered, “You're going to be so loved. You have the best big sister, wonderful grandparents, and adoptive aunties and uncles who will love you so much. I hope you look like Daddy. He's so gorgeous. I can't wait to hold you, but take your time. Get big and strong. When are you due?”

“Late July or early August, so I'll be miserable and hot.”

“Another summer baby, just like Fern. Oh Ren,” he cradled my face and slowly kissed me, never moving until we were both gasping for air, “I'm so fucking happy,” he let out a tear filled laugh and I returned it, staring into his eyes, “This is the best damn present you could have ever given me.”

“Swear?”

“Of course, baby. I wouldn't lie about that,” he covered my stomach with his hand, and I covered it with my own, “I'm so blessed. I don't know how I deserve any of you, but I work hard every day to show you just how much I love you. This little one is even more proof of the love we share, and I can't wait.”

“Me either.”