It’s Sunday night, and I’m cleaning up the kitchen with the kids one last time while thinking about what an amazing holiday weekend it’s been.
It started on Friday morning with the French toast casserole with Danny’s family. After that, we all headed over to the Mackenzies’ to share a traditional Thanksgiving dinner with them. While Danny was at his game, his mother and I cooked. We made the French toast as well as three vegetable casseroles, a cranberry Jell-O salad, five pies, and three kinds of brownies. We ate to our hearts’ content and happily celebrated family.
Danny’s parents left, and then Saturday was all about friends. They have a tradition of bringing all the leftovers to the Mackenzie house for a free-for-all while watching more football and letting the kids play together. It was fun to see Marcus and Madison again as well as everyone who was at the Halloween party.
But today was the most fun in many ways. Because, today, I think we maybe started a tradition of our own.
Danny, the kids, and I got bundled up and drove out to a tree farm in the country. We drank hot chocolate, strolled through rows, chose the perfect tree, and then all took turns with the ax to chop it down—Danny doing so unsuccessfully with his left arm.
After getting it in the house and set up, we got ready for the ornament-making party for Damon, Devaney, and their friends. There were about thirty kids here, who made and took home ornaments for their own trees.
“Dad, I’m pooped. How about we order in dinner, eat it in front of the fire, and decorate the tree?” Damon asks.
“That’s a great idea!” Devaney agrees. “I vote for Mexican.”
“Sounds good to me,” Danny says as he empties the trash.
“I’ll get that,” I say to him. “You’re not supposed to be lifting anything.”
“Damon, why don’t you take this out to the garage?” he says.
“Sure thing, Dad. I vote for Mexican, too.” He turns to me. “And, Jennifer, if you like Mexican, you are in for a treat. Their sour cream sauce is to die for. Seriously, send me a vat, and I’d bathe in it.”
Danny laughs.
Devaney says, “He probably would. And it is really good.”
“I think it sounds like a wonderful evening,” I say, tears threatening. “Are you sure you don’t want to decorate the tree, just the three of you? Really, I don’t want to, I don’t know, make it awkward. It’s your first Christmas without your mom living here and maybe …”
“Don’t be silly,” Devaney says, coming over and giving me a hug. “Of course we want you to be a part of it. You’re practically part of the family now.”
I look over at Danny, who looks equally touched and scared. Our eyes meet, his gaze conveying both how much it means that his children approve at the same time he fears the attachment.
“Why don’t you team up with Damon and order the food while your dad and I chat for a moment?” I suggest since he has neither confirmed nor denied his feelings on the subject.
“Is there anything you don’t like?” Devaney asks. “I thought I might get a bunch of our favorites, and we can all share.”
“Raw onions,” I reply. “Not of fan of those or beans. But I love rice and anything with a whole lot of cheese.”
“Perfect,” she says as I hang my kitchen towel on the dishwasher handle to dry and then make my way to Danny’s study.
“You won’t hurt my feelings if you want this to be about just you and your kids,” I offer even though I know I will be crushed if he accepts.
“I don’t know,” he says, pulling me close with his good arm. “Not liking raw onions might be a deal-breaker. I love them. Which means I’ll have onion breath and you won’t want to kiss me.”
“This is serious, Danny.”
“Yes, it is. Please stay and decorate the tree with us. It would mean a lot to all of us. Remember the night when you watched film with me and how different it was from what I was used to? This weekend was the same. You spent time with my parents and seemed to enjoy it. You took a bath with me after the game. Cared about me—as a man, not a football player. And handled a house full of teenagers with ease.” He chuckles. “Of course, now, anytime Damon spends the night somewhere, Angel thinks she’s supposed to sleep in my bed. But I can’t really fault you for spoiling her because—”
“Oh, I already heard it’s not the first time. Damon ratted you out when you were gone.”
“Yet you didn’t say anything.”
“I was saving it to use against you,” I tease. “The answer is yes, by the way.”
“To what question?” he asks, looking confused.
“As soon as your divorce is final, if you still want, I would love to move in with you.”
Danny’s grin widens, going full wattage. “Oh, I still very much want.”
“You mentioned telling the team this weekend. You never said if you actually did. And I haven’t seen any kind of an announcement or even gossip about it.”
“I thought there would be, but I heard from one of the player’s wives that Lori had regretfully canceled the party because she had suddenly taken ill. She must have decided not to tell them the truth.”
“And what about you?”
“I told the team I have been separated since May, that my divorce would be final in a couple of weeks, and that out of respect for my children that I wouldn’t be discussing the dissolution of my marriage. After that happens, I really want you to come to one of my games. In fact, on December tenth, we play LA. I was thinking maybe you could show me your house then, too. And I was wondering what your schedule looks like for the month.”
“I plan to take off most of December, but I did get an email from my agent about a couple of opportunities that he’d like to discuss with me, and I have another photo shoot coming up. I know Jadyn has meetings all this week; I was thinking I’d go with her, get that all done, and then be back to help you celebrate the divorce being final.”
“That sounds like a plan. Now, let’s go decorate the Christmas tree.”
Tears fill my eyes. “I’d love that.”
