The classroom was quiet, only the lingering memory of children’s laughter permeating the space. Daniel closed his laptop and stood from his desk for a long stretch. Air rushed out of him in a contented exhale. Another year had passed, another winter vacation waiting around the corner. The day had been sunny and bright, with a crisp edge of chilled air typical for December among the foothills of the mountains.

He checked his watch. Half an hour before Jeff and Abby were supposed to pick him up. He smiled with the recollection of a similar day the year prior as he righted the classroom. Some things were different this time around. He had a warm home to look forward to, and he’d taken care of all his holiday work already. Instead of Abby waiting for him, he was waiting for his two favorite people. Abby had been excited about something for the past week, Jeff declaring a surprise was coming, so Daniel had been quite motivated to finish all his reports and head home. He huffed a small laugh as he packed his laptop. A sense of childish giddiness had settled in his bones while he wondered what the two had planned.

Coat on and bag slung over his shoulder, he stopped next to the student desk closest to his own and ran his fingers over the indent in the side. Abby had had to be transferred to Ms. Evelyn’s classroom, and Daniel was sure she would’ve kicked up a fuss if it weren’t for the time they still spent together. Every day after school, Abby sat right there, at that desk, doing homework while Daniel graded projects or prepared for his next-day lessons.

It hadn’t been smooth, exactly, accommodating to the new life, but it had been very, very far away from hardship. He felt so lucky, sometimes, that he feared—

“Mister Wu, how do you do?”

Startled, Daniel looked up to see Amber in the doorway with an impish look on her face.

“How does Your Ladyship do,” he teased back. It had been Amber’s go-to joke ever since she witnessed the kids making the rhyme with his name in class.

“The Webers have been standing in the parking lot for the past five minutes,” she informed him, a smirk pulling at the side of her mouth. “Fidgeting.”

“Abby doesn’t fidget.”

“Jeff does.”

Daniel had to agree with that, and he nodded. But Jeff, despite being bright and full of energy, only got anxious when something big was going on. Back in August, he could barely sit still for days before he blurted “I love you” to Daniel in the middle of the supermarket.

Chances were that whatever Jeff and Abby had been secretive about wouldn’t be bad, but Daniel knew there were only so many easy things in life before the universe slapped him with a twist.

“Are you okay?”

Before last Christmas, Daniel had been friendly with a lot of people, but none with whom he’d built a strong connection. With Amber, he had a system of trading teases during lunch in the teachers’ lounge. She was the nicest secretary the school had ever had, according to Principal Howards. But then, just before the end of the semester, Amber had asked Daniel for help with one of her psych projects, confessing she’d been secretly working toward a degree in education. It brought them together in ways Daniel hadn’t realized he’d been missing, her views on life optimistic, her personality wrapped in a tempered enthusiasm. Daniel shook his head to clear his thoughts, and Amber frowned, misinterpreting his reaction.

“Uh, yeah,” he hurried to reassure. “I just—it feels like I’m dreaming sometimes, you know? Waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

She relaxed, moving closer to pat him on the arm with an indulgent smile. “They adore you. Whatever comes, you’ll face it together.”

Amber had been friends with Jeff for years before Daniel even moved to the town he now called home. She’d known from the start about Jeff’s crush on Daniel, and had dropped hints for weeks last year, not that Daniel had recognized them as such. So if anyone was in a position to know how his and Jeff’s relationship worked, she was it. Daniel allowed a grin to push the worry away. She was right.

“So,” he said as they made their way toward the exit. “How many holiday movies have you watched so far?”

“Only three.”

“How many are on the list?”

“Ten.”

Daniel did a quick count. Christmas fell on a Tuesday, and school closed on Friday the twenty-first, so with a movie a day, that would make… “You won’t have enough to last until after New Year’s.”

“No,” Amber agreed. “I’m— Well, I’m meeting with—you know. The day after tomorrow. We’re going to spend the holidays together.”

Her nervousness echoed his own, and Daniel looked up at her. “She’s going to like you in real life too. Just be yourself.”

“Easy to say.”

“Hey, if I like you…”

Amber scoffed at him, but she seemed pleased.

They parted ways soon after outside the doors, her turning left and Daniel hurrying right, to where Jeff and Abby were waiting by the car.

The sun cast a low glow as it dipped beyond the mountains, the dark orange of the light bathing the parking lot in warmth. Jeff was fiddling with a flat parcel wrapped in creased red paper, while Abby held a small box in her mitten-clad hands as if it were made of glass. The postal service logo was stamped on its side.

“What’s going on?” Daniel asked when Jeff kept staring. No hello, no kiss, just wide eyes and shuffling feet.

A car door slammed somewhere behind Jeff, just as Abby caught his sleeve, pulling him out of his obvious stupor.

“For you,” he said, shoving the red package at Daniel.

Abby stepped closer, excited, while Jeff looked pale. Daniel frowned.

“Open it,” Abby urged, and Daniel complied.

It didn’t take long to slide the contents out of the wrapping—a thick envelope hosting a stack of paper folded down the middle. What was on the pages, though, brought a lump to his throat.

“Really?” he whispered, voice cracking.

Jeff nodded fast.

“It’s our Christmas present,” Abby chirped, “but we wanted to give it before.”

It was…it was the best. Each sheet held a copy of Abby’s records, Daniel’s name next to Jeff’s as emergency contact—the hospital, her physician, the library, it was all there. He had already been added to the school’s file, for obvious reasons, but this was proof Jeff trusted him enough with Abby that he offered him the spot of the other parent in her life. The last page—the notarized proxy allowing him to make decisions for Abby in Jeff’s name—had him speechless.

“Daniel,” Abby said, a wobble in her voice, just as Jeff asked, “Is it okay?”

“Yeah! Yes, sweetheart.” He bent to hug her, placing a kiss to the top of her head. “It’s perfect.”

He drew himself back up and wrapped his arms around Jeff. His collar smelled of concrete dust, the hands pressing on Daniel’s back large and tightening around him enough to steal his breath.

“Thank you,” Daniel whispered, sighing at the pecks Jeff placed on his cheek while Abby cheered from the side.

It was then that Daniel became aware of a stranger staring at them. The man had stopped mid-stride, a look of disgust on his face that raised Daniel’s hackles enough to scowl at him over Jeff’s shoulder. Before he could do anything, though, the man turned around and jogged toward the car parked there.

Abby was calling Daniel’s name, so he focused back on her as he released Jeff, the sound of an engine distant in his ears.

“Now, mine.” Abby pushed the box in his hands, grin so wide Daniel had to wonder if it hurt her cheeks.

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait until Christmas day?”

“Sure sure,” she confirmed with glee. “Open it now. We have more for the tree.”

“You’re spoiling me,” Daniel commented but accepted Jeff’s pocketknife to slice open the tape holding it closed.

The flaps of the box came up, the contents glinting in the decreasing sunlight. There, under plastic wrap, was the telltale top of a glass sphere. He pulled the snow globe out gently, revealing three figurines holding hands inside. They were obviously Jeff, Abby in the middle, and—and him. Daniel blinked.

And blinked.

It matched the globe Jeff had given him last June, the one with their house in the clearing and a tag on the base saying Home in cursive letters. This one proclaimed Family, and Daniel ran his fingers over the engraving.

Laughter bubbled out of him, right before Abby hugged him around the middle with a delighted squeal. Jeff’s arm was heavy around his shoulders, his lips warm where he pressed them against Daniel’s temple.

“Come on,” Jeff said. “Let’s go home.”

★

Stepping through the door behind Abby and Jeff brought memories to the front of Daniel’s mind again. He took his time removing his coat and boots, enough to take in the room and catalog the differences. To the left was the kitchen area, separated from the rest of the wide-open space by a counter. On it, Abby’s books sat open next to bits and pieces of red wrapping paper.

With a smile, Daniel turned his attention to the small sofa—too small for three people, but so right for them—and beyond it Jeff’s workspace. The fireplace sat yet unlit in the middle of it all, but that wouldn’t be for long, given the logs that were waiting in a pile to the side.

The far right of the room had been almost barren last year, but the tree in the corner, waiting to be decorated, now rose next to Daniel’s desk. New shelves lined the walls underneath and between the two windows, and a tall lamp loomed over its furniture brethren from the corner opposite the tree. All that was missing was the armchair set they’d ordered to keep the lamp company.

For a while, Daniel stood there, gazing out the windows at the forest opening wide over the sloping hills. It was quiet here, just as he liked it, but not oppressively so. Upstairs, the shower ran over the music coming from Abby’s room. She’d taken to listening to Jeff’s impressive collection of albums. It was an unexpected interest at seven, as kids usually took longer to develop a taste for their parents’ tunes. The Addams Family theme cut off the crooning of another song, and Abby’s voice joined the lyrics. Loudly, very loudly, and Daniel couldn’t help but chuckle. Some things hadn’t changed, because Abby’s passion for the fictional family, especially Wednesday and her affinity for weapons, still held strong. The rubber knife he’d given her on Halloween sat on one of the unoccupied shelves between the windows.

Daniel ran his fingers over the edge of the wood, considering.

Moving in with Jeff and Abby hadn’t happened overnight, despite how their relationship had started. The year prior, Daniel had spent the holidays in this very house, trapped by a days-long snowstorm and helping Jeff navigate chores with a broken leg. It created a connection that sparked a desire in Daniel to make it his home as well. When Daniel said as much, Jeff and Abby had been ecstatic. But even though, after New Year’s, he’d stayed with them all the days leading to Jeff’s recovery, life had still gotten in the way. New contracts for Jeff, a severe cold that got to each of them, late nights at work, and weekends full of school events all seemed to delay the move. Through it all, however, Daniel’s belongings had made their way steadily albeit slowly to their home.

Until, one day, Daniel realized the only thing left to unpack was the box of snow globes.

It had been waiting patiently under the desk. He pulled it out and settled on the floor, the new globe still clutched in one arm to his side.

Across the space, Jeff, hair damp and humming under his breath, was puttering around in the kitchen. The overhead light bathed him in a spot of brightness, leaving Daniel to observe quietly in the relatively dim glow of the smaller lamp by the sofa.

Sometimes, Jeff was soft in the wrong places. When someone cut in line, for instance, and he’d complacently allow it, or when Daniel got too demanding of his time. Not that he wanted Jeff to argue with him, but Daniel knew his own shortcomings. He tried to avoid being bossy, managed mostly. Yet Jeff didn’t mind. Under his calmness, Abby had thrived and most days Daniel felt in himself the assurance that whatever happened, Jeff would guide them to safety.

The warmth gathering in his chest was turning his cheeks hot. Daniel closed his eyes, inhaling the smell of home.

Not much later, it tangled with the aroma of dinner, followed by the patter of socked feet on the floorboards. Abby plopped down next to him.

“Whatcha doing?”

Daniel smiled, gaze drifting to where Jeff was bent over the kitchen sink. “Thinking about your Daddy, and you, and last Christmas.”

Abby nodded seriously, eying the tree for a moment. “Daddy says we’re decorating tomorrow,” she said, an almost-whine underlying her words. “Tonight’s too late.”

“He’s right, you know,” Daniel agreed and received a half-betrayed look in return. “But you can help me put these out, if you want.” He gestured at the box next to them.

“Yes!” Abby scrambled to her feet, excitement unrestrained.

“Let’s start with this one,” Daniel said as he opened the small package he’d received earlier. He made his way up and placed a hand on the shelf closest to Abby’s eye level. “What do you think; is this spot good?”

Another “Yes!” followed, uttered with so much glee it was contagious.

That night, Daniel dreamed of snowflakes, Jeff’s warm embrace, and Abby’s happy face.

★

Saturday started with a flurry of last-minute grocery shopping. They’d avoided the more crowded stores but still managed to waste a big portion of the day waiting in line, and by the time they got back home, Daniel had almost forgotten the creeping feeling that had followed him all morning. He’d gotten used to being stared at, way before, whenever he’d been out in public with a partner. Not in this town, though, not for years, and it made him uncomfortable.

He pushed it away, blaming it on his recent musings over the past, focusing instead on Abby’s absolute delight while decorating the tree.

Their afternoon ended with traditional Chinese dumplings, a signature dish of the winter solstice celebration. They’d made them together—Daniel supervising the preparation and Jeff supervising Daniel—elbows deep in flour and minced meat and seasonings. Daniel wanted to add tangyuan to the experience, but he’d tasted the authentic dish during his travels and afterward nothing else would compare. But an old buddy of his would be in Hong Kong the following summer and had promised to send back the necessary ingredients, so they would definitely have them next solstice. Perhaps they could even plan a trip—a couple of days in a city where Abby could also see some New Year celebrations in February. Distracted by his new idea and turning on the tree lights with Abby and Jeff, Daniel felt gratified.

By the next morning, however, the disquiet had come back and grown into a tight ball of apprehension in the pit of his stomach.

The pancakes on his plate tasted weird, and Daniel spent a long time pushing the syrup around. Abby was busy trying to cover her own in equal amounts of honey and jam, while Jeff sipped sleepily from his coffee mug. It was silent and soft and everything a vacation morning should be.

Sharp and loud, the sudden rapping of knuckles on the door startled Daniel enough to drop his fork with a clang against the table. Jeff was already moving to answer when Daniel finally got a hold of himself.

Instead of greeting whoever it was, Jeff was just standing there, one hand on the knob and mouth slack, staring through the open door. Daniel walked over to see a man on their porch, flowers in one hand and a plush bear in the other. For one dreadful moment, Daniel’s mind supplied “ex” to him, but that didn’t feel right.

“Nick,” Jeff said, voice scratchy enough to make Daniel wince, “what are you doing here?”

The man, Nick, shrugged, the gesture familiar under his canvas jacket, too thin for the weather. He must have come from out of town. At second glance, he had Abby’s eyes and the same shape of chin. Seeing him clearly from up close caused recognition to dawn on Daniel.

He was the same man from the school parking lot two days earlier, and a face Daniel had seen a couple of times at the market yesterday, and…of course, in the picture albums safeguarded in their special cupboard. The memory of Jeff opening up to Daniel about his family, huddled together on the sofa late at night, was precious to him and resonated deeply with the loss of his own parents. Jeff had lost his twin sister in childbirth and then had been left to tend to her daughter, little Abby, all by himself. It was borderline surreal, to have this man appear out of nowhere.

“Hello,” Daniel said when Jeff made no move.

What he got in return was a long cold look. It figured, Daniel thought. This guy was Abby’s biological father, and as far as Daniel knew, he’d been absent from their lives since Abby’s birth. The animosity was understandable, although entirely unjustified, and he hoped it would dissipate soon. Nick’s absence from his daughter’s life wasn’t Daniel’s fault. Or Jeff’s.

“Hi,” Nick finally responded. “Aren’t you going to let me in?”

Daniel saw the exact moment Jeff bristled. He placed a comforting hand on his elbow and gently tugged him out of the entryway to make room. Nick stepped in, looking around until his gaze fell on Abby who was watching them with big eyes.

“Hi, sweetie.” Nick waved at her with the present and the flowers. “These are for you. I’m—”

“Mommy’s husband,” Abby supplied from where she stood behind the sofa, fingers clutching at the cushion of the backrest.

Nick’s face fell, and Daniel winced in sympathy. But again, Nick only had himself to blame.

“Why don’t you sit down,” Daniel said, pushing the door closed. “Do you want something to drink?” He didn’t wait for an answer, however, and took Abby’s hand on his way to the kitchen. “Let’s make some tea.”

All through the motions, Abby was quiet, sneaking glances over to the living room, and Daniel kept a careful ear to the conversation. Jeff had taken the center of the sofa, and Nick was left with the chair across the coffee table. The wrapping around the flowers rustled as he set them and the bear on the table. Jeff scoffed and Daniel rolled his eyes. Abby was thoroughly creeped out by stuffed animals.

“When did you arrive in town?”

“Thursday night. Everything was closed, so I went up to the cabin.”

Jeff made a noise, and Daniel looked over just in time to catch Nick’s smug smirk.

“Was surprised my key still works,” Nick continued.

The tiny cabin by the lake was the easiest way to push Jeff’s buttons. It had belonged to his grandmother and then been passed on to Jeff and Lauren, but since Lauren was gone, a part of her inheritance now belonged to Nick. And that rubbed Jeff the wrong way whenever he remembered, mostly because that small room with its rickety bunk beds and wood stove had been the stage for many summer adventures in his childhood. He’d even installed solar panels and an AC system to keep it cool or warm, depending on necessity. Abby loved it there; Jeff loved it there. Daniel was still undecided, but that was mostly because of the plentiful mosquito population.

“I’ll call a hotel for you.”

“Nah.” Nick rolled his shoulders as he leaned back in the chair. “It’s closer to stay there.”

He was right. The cabin wasn’t far from the house. The path connecting them cut through the forest, down toward the valley, and took an hour on foot. However, the main road that wound up and down the hill slopes, while triple in length, was only a fifteen-minute drive to the cabin. Daniel had a really bad feeling about this.

“Why are you here?” Jeff sounded like he was done with the small talk.

“Am I not allowed to come see my daughter?”

“You were gone for seven years.” It was clear Jeff was trying to keep his voice low but failing.

“And what, you didn’t even tell her I’m her father?”

“You signed her away, asshole!”

Abby shivered next to Daniel, and he sank to his knees to see her downturned face better. “You doing okay there, kid?”

The way she was biting her lip must’ve hurt.

“Scared?”

“No,” she immediately defended, scowl in place.

The distraction was working, so Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Remember when we talked about how sometimes using words is better than holding it in?” She nodded, and Daniel squeezed her shoulder. “Use them now.”

Abby took a deep breath. “Daddy said Nick was sick after Mommy went away, and he had to go to a faraway place to heal. And he’d always watch over me, just like Mommy. But he brought a bear.”

Daniel winced in sympathy. Her glare of betrayal was unexpected, and he didn’t really know what to do with it. Abby was sharp, understood some things too well for her age, and this here was too much.

“There must be an explanation for that,” he said.

Abby crossed her arms. Whatever shyness she felt had been replaced by distrust.

“You have no right!”

The shout coming from the other side of the counter startled them both, and Daniel straightened back up. He wasn’t sure who said it, but Nick was standing, looming over the coffee table and, consequently, over Jeff. It didn’t bode well, and the tight ball in Daniel’s stomach burst open in a flush of anxiety that made his fingers tremble.

“Go to your room,” he told Abby. She made a sound of protest, but he nudged her toward the stairs. “Just for a little while, until the spirits calm down around here. I’ll come get you, okay, and then we’ll find out what’s with the bear. Maybe it’s a joke.”

He knew the attempt was as lame as it sounded, but Abby thankfully didn’t call him out on it. Instead, she shuffled off, and Daniel allowed himself a moment of relief before turning toward the other two.

“Please don’t yell,” he said as he leaned onto the backrest of the couch, a hand on Jeff’s shoulder. The gesture caused Jeff to relax slightly, but he still threw his hands up, annoyed.

“This is what I’m talking about.” Nick pointed at Daniel.

“Go to hell,” Jeff gritted.

“How about you catch me u—” Daniel began.

“Shut the fuck up,” Nick cut him off, shoulders hunched.

He looked ready for a tantrum, and Daniel knew those. He nipped those in the bud on a daily basis. He straightened, lifting his chin, although his chest felt tight with worry.

“You won’t speak to me in my own home like that. Sit down and apologize, and after you’ve finished acting like a child, we’ll discuss whatever this is. Calmly.”

Nick faltered visibly for a moment, but then he laughed, short and bitter. “Or what, you’re gonna turn me gay too?” He pointed at Jeff. “My daughter belongs with normal parents.”

That was rude. And painful. And absolutely moronic.

Jeff shot up. “There’s no other parent more suited than Daniel. He has a degree in child psychology!”

“He’s a guy! Abigail needs a mother!”

“How the fuck do you know what Abby needs? You never even touched her. Once! You turned around and left and I never even heard from you since then. Everything went through your lawyer.”

“Well,” Nick retorted, too calm suddenly, “I’m here now, and I’m taking her off your hands.”

“Like hell you are.” Daniel was just as surprised as the other two at the words that came out of his mouth.

“You have no say in this.” Nick crossed his arms.

“Yes, he does,” Jeff countered. “He’s part of this family—”

Nick’s snort was ugly and loud. “You call this a family? What happened to you, man?”

“What happened to me? What happened?!”

Daniel had never seen Jeff so close to losing it, and he dared squeeze tighter on his arm. It had no effect.

“You left,” Jeff said, gesturing with his free hand. “I lost both you and Lauren in the same day, and suddenly, I was there with a small life depending on me. Without Grams, we wouldn’t have made it, and now you dare come and judge me for my choices. Fuck you. Get the fuck out of my house.”

“Yeah,” Nick mock-agreed. “I’m going. But next time you see me will be with child services and the police, and you better have her stuff packed and ready to go.”

He said it with so much confidence that for a moment fear gripped at Daniel. He shook himself mentally as he watched Nick stomp off. There was no basis to his posturing.

The door slammed shut and Daniel looked at Jeff. There was such hurt on his face that it sent an unpleasant shudder down Daniel’s spine.

“Hey.”

Jeff swallowed audibly, eyes fixed on the door. When he finally spoke, the words were a whisper filled with disbelief. “That was my best friend. He used to be my best…”

He trailed off into stunned silence, and Daniel was at a loss. What could he even say to something like that? Before he could decide, though, Jeff broke out of his hold.

He looked stricken, motions frantic as he paced back and forth, fingers fisted in his hair.

“Look—” Daniel said, only to be interrupted by Jeff grabbing at his shoulders.

“Abby! We have to get Abby, pack and go where he can’t find us.” The panic rising in his eyes wasn’t good, and Daniel had to put a stop to it.

“Calm down. He can’t take her just like that.”

“You don’t know him. He’s more stubborn than a mule.”

“Jeff—”

By then, Jeff was making a beeline for the staircase, and Daniel stepped in front of him. He had to be the voice of reason here.

“Darling, listen. You adopted her, legally. He signed her over willingly; he can’t overturn that on a whim.”

“You don’t know—”

“I know. You showed me the papers, remember? He even gave up visitation rights.”

They’d done this, had the talk, the night after Abby’s birthday, when Jeff couldn’t sleep at two in the morning, too caught up in what-ifs and thoughts of suddenly leaving Abby alone in the world. So, they shared knowledge of their legal specifics, where any official papers were, what to do in case of emergencies. Topped with the gift they’d given him the other day, Daniel felt confident in his reassurances and in his place to make them.

“I’m not letting him take her from us.”

“You can’t promise that,” Jeff said, but Daniel shushed him.

“We’ll figure this out together, you and me—”

“You’re not her parent.”

That same sense of belonging was probably why it hurt so much to hear that, even though it was the truth—why Jeff’s words cut deeper than Daniel thought possible.

Daniel shoved at Jeff’s arms, hard. He said nothing, afraid of what would come out of his mouth if he did, and instead, made his way to the back door.

“Wait, that’s not what I meant. Daniel…”

But Daniel closed the door over Jeff’s voice, shivering from more than the cold as he pulled his sweater tighter around himself. At the horizon, over the valley, there were snow clouds forming, dark and angry, much like Daniel felt.

“Fuck,” he muttered, kicking the porch rail.

★

Daniel stood outside until the chill made him numb to his own distress. Logically, he understood that Jeff probably didn’t intend to imply what he had, but it turned Daniel’s stomach all the same. He waited until the nausea dissipated, which hadn’t taken very long, just enough for the wind to pick up and the clouds to draw closer. It might snow during the night, perhaps sooner.

His legs felt heavy as he trudged inside. Abby wasn’t downstairs, but Jeff was sitting on the couch, so Daniel made his way there. He stopped short, however, when Jeff looked up. His eyes were red, wet and still leaking.

The sigh that traveled through Daniel took with it most of his irritation, and he stepped in front of Jeff, close enough to reach. A good choice, it seemed, when Jeff’s shaky hands came to grip at his sides, his forehead pressing onto Daniel’s middle. There was nothing else to do, then, besides caress his head and back as sobs shook his frame.

Daniel whispered reassurances until Jeff’s breathing tapered off into shuddering gasps of air. When Jeff let go, Daniel rummaged through his pocket for a tissue and handed it over.

“‘M sorry, didn’t mean it.”

“I’m not mad anymore.” It was barely noon, and Daniel was already tired. “But you’re gonna have to give a better apology than that.”

“I’ll make it up to you, promise.” Jeff’s voice was hoarse.

Daniel nodded, and he motioned for Jeff to follow him into the kitchen. “Are you done freaking out?”

“Not really, but I realize I wasn’t exactly rational earlier.”

“You were an ass earlier,” Daniel agreed as he fiddled with the kettle. “Sit down.”

Silence settled over them for a while, and then, just as Daniel was removing the tea bags out of the mugs, Jeff looked at the ceiling.

“Is she okay?” Daniel asked. “Did you talk to her?”

“Yeah. She was very disappointed in the bear.”

“I know.”

Jeff followed that statement with a grimace. “I don’t even know what to tell her. She heard almost everything.”

“And?”

“She’s sulking with her earphones on. I think she’s pissed at me.” Jeff rubbed at his face with both palms and whined, “I fucked up.”

“Big time.”

“You’re not helping.”

Daniel gave him his best “duh” face, as he stood and went to the fridge. “Let’s make that pasta she likes for lunch; it always lifts her spirits.”

“Sounds good.”

They didn’t avoid their own conversation, but there was nothing else Daniel could say aside from reinforcing what he’d already been telling Jeff. There was no way Nick could just take Abby from him. Jeff had a stable income and provided all she needed. Her life had roots, she was an exceptional student in school, and she was well adjusted, based on her interactions with her peers. Daniel could attest to it, and Evelyn would confirm it. Nick would face a big legal fight to get his claws in, and even then, Daniel doubted any sound-minded judge would hand over full custody to him.

By the time the pasta was ready to be dished out, Jeff seemed at least a little less panicky and a little more confident in their future as a family.

Jeff went to get Abby. He called for her a couple of times before thundering back down the stairs.

“She’s gone,” he said. Frozen there, mouth slack and cheeks too pale, he was looking at Daniel with wide eyes, as though he held all the answers.

“What do you mean gone?”

“She’s not up there.”

“Have you checked—”

“She’s not there.” With that, Jeff visibly shook himself out of the stupor.

What followed was a frantic search through the entire house, including the basement, interspersed with calling her name. While Jeff searched outside, Daniel went back to her room, looking for clues.

Her phone, the one they bought over the summer for emergencies, was sitting on the nightstand, safely wrapped in its Wednesday case. Daniel snatched it, causing a piece of paper to flutter to the floor.

A note. “Dear Daddy,” Daniel read out loud. “Please don’t cry. I can solve it. Love, Abby.”

★

They both had a good idea where Abby had gone, and it was all a matter of what path they should choose. Jeff, oscillating between calm rage and jittery worry, proved difficult to talk down from rushing off into the woods. On the one hand, Abby had left sometime in the last two hours, and it made sense to assume she’d already reached the cabin, so driving there might mean finding her quickly. On the other, Daniel agreed with Jeff’s fear that she might have slipped on a root and was lying in the cold, alone, in the middle of nowhere.

It was that deep apprehensive grip of doubt that made Daniel relent to taking the path on foot. Besides, either one of them hiking alone through the woods would present the same perils, and Daniel wasn’t going to let Jeff, as distraught as he was, search by himself. Armed with a first aid kit, a few sandwiches, hot tea, and a thick blanket, they made their way slowly toward the cabin. They stopped often to shout after Abby, to check the bushes, or to simply breathe for a few moments.

“It’s daylight,” Daniel repeated, for maybe the tenth time in as many minutes. “She knows the way; it’s unlikely she’s gotten lost.”

Jeff’s answer was to look at him and then at the frozen ground beneath their feet. It had been sunny, but the temperature had dropped steadily for the past week. The air had lost its crispness to the sharp bite of cold, and once in a while, where water had gathered in between roots, there were bits of ice marring the narrow path. The earth itself was a slippery mess of twists and turns between the trees.

By the time they passed the halfway point, the wind had picked up and the clouds from earlier darkened the sky above them. Daniel checked his phone for any storm warnings, but of course, he had no signal out here.

Thankfully, the lake was beginning to be visible between the trunks where the trees were sparse and—not soon enough—so was the row of small cabins gracing the western shore in an arc. Jeff’s cabin was the only one with a car parked out front, as no one else would be daring enough to be out here in the winter. But that also meant Nick was there, and if Abby had made it, she wouldn’t be stranded outside in the cold. Which was a relief.

It would’ve been easier to shorten the trip by following along the water. However, that portion of the shoreline was covered in large boulders with sharp edges, and Abby would’ve kept to the path.

As it was, they’d made the one-hour trek in almost two and arrived at the cabin under the sting of icy snowflakes and an ever-gloomier afternoon. It was going to be just peachy, Daniel thought, as he swiped the misshapen flakes out of his hair.

Once they were clear of the trees, Jeff rushed ahead, and as much as Daniel wanted to brace himself for the impending confrontation, he hurried as well.

The door wasn’t locked, and Jeff barged in without bothering to knock. After a moment of getting his bearings, he beelined to the other side of the room where he scooped Abby up.

“You’re here, thank fu—argh! You’re here. Are you hurt?”

She looked fine, the place was warm, and Daniel turned his attention away from her, squirming out of Jeff’s hold, and toward the other occupant of the room. In the corner that served as a simulacrum of a kitchen was Nick, standing there with wild eyes.

Before Daniel could say anything, Jeff’s voice traveled over, a little too loud and a bit too hard.

“What were you thinking?!”

Abby didn’t answer but glared at him with arms crossed, a perfect imitation of Wednesday. Only, the underlying hurt wasn’t fake, and Daniel took a deep breath before walking over.

“No shouting,” he said.

Jeff turned. “But—”

“No. Shouting. We will all—” He looked in turn at Nick, and Abby, and Jeff. “—be civil with each other. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Daniel,” Abby said while the other two mumbled.

“Good.” Daniel stepped closer to her. “Have you eaten anything since breakfast?” At her headshake, he motioned for her to follow to the table near the stove. “We’ve got some sandwiches. Let’s eat while those two think about what they’ve done.”

Abby let out a long-suffering sigh just as Jeff raised his arms in disbelief.

“Now it’s my fault?”

It wasn’t, not entirely. But, just as Daniel suspected, it distracted Jeff from breaking down right then and there, in front of Nick, no less. As far as Daniel could see, Jeff’s hands were shaking with adrenaline, and offering himself as a point of focus was the least he could do. Instead of answering, he grasped Jeff’s elbow, turning him toward the bathroom door.

“Breathe,” Daniel whispered.

“In there?” Jeff hissed, and Daniel shrugged.

“Wash your face with cold water. It will help.”

Jeff groaned quietly as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He cast a wary glance over their surroundings but followed through without further complaint.

Thankfully, Nick didn’t seem to notice their exchange, too preoccupied with giving Abby a wide berth by slinking to the other end of the room.

“What did you do to him?” Daniel asked her after he fetched the food out of the backpack.

Abby bit the inside of her cheek. “I thought about what Ms. Morticia would do if her daddy was hurt and told him that.”

Daniel was both surprised and not. “Hell, kid. We should get you some acting classes; you’d make a nice villain.”

It earned him a grin, and although Abby was still upset, she was looking less murderous and more tired.

Ten minutes later, they were all seated with tea and crackers from the cabinets, plus Jeff’s sandwiches. Nick eyed them suspiciously although obviously dying to get his paws on one of them, while Jeff silently challenged him from the other side of the table.

There was a soft, sporadic creak from one of the window shutters, one that Jeff had wanted to fix at the end of summer, but the start of the school year sidetracked him from this minor task on his endless to-do list. Besides that, the only sound regaling the space was the intense howling of the wind outside.

Just then, three things happened at the same time. Nick snatched one of the triangles with peanut butter and jelly, Jeff leaned forward to take it back, and a loud crash made the windows rattle. Abby’s high-pitched yelp was covered by the cacophony of a car alarm blaring and Jeff’s chair toppling over when he rushed to the door.

“Wait here,” Jeff barked, grabbing his coat.

Daniel was happy to hold on to Abby, but Nick followed Jeff outside.

“It’s okay,” he soothed Abby over his own quickened heartbeat.

The day was just getting better and better. Actually, the night, because it was already dark. Windy. Snowing.

The alarm cut off abruptly, and soon, the other two came back in, stomping the snow off their feet.

“Branch fell on the car,” Jeff announced. “We’re not going anywhere.”

★

For a while, Daniel busied himself with an inventory of their supplies. Looked like Nick hadn’t made much of a dent in the food. On the contrary, Daniel found bananas and a couple cartons of pasteurized milk. There were even some eggs tucked carefully in the farthest cupboard, where the external wall was cold enough to feel like the inside of a fridge. Daniel wouldn’t have taken Nick for a diverse-meal-approach kind of guy.

In any case, there was enough for Jeff to work with for their dinner, so Daniel moved to the cabinets in the opposite corner, right next to the two bunk beds. One of them had been slept in, of course, but the others didn’t have sheets, and Daniel pulled out linen for them. There were enough blankets and towels, he noted, and also a couple pairs of sweats, some of Abby’s pajamas, and a hoodie. Jeff’s. Abby would get the pajamas and the hoodie, while he and Jeff would manage with the rest and what they were already wearing.

By the windows, Jeff had been quietly chastising Abby for her solo adventure through the woods. Daniel heard snippets, from time to time, involving the words “phone,” “never again,” and “sorry.” The line of Jeff’s shoulders seemed tense even from the other side of the room, and Daniel wished they could have at least a few minutes alone, but that didn’t look like it was going to happen. There wasn’t anywhere to go.

He sighed and sneaked a glance to where Nick was sitting at the table, arms crossed and pouting. Or at least Daniel thought it was pouting. He’d been extremely quiet, tracking Abby with his eyes. Honestly, it was a bit unnerving how much they were alike. Daniel shivered.

And then he sneezed.

Now that Daniel was paying attention, he noticed the cabin had gotten gradually colder. And he wasn’t the only one, because Jeff was already moving to the door with purpose.

“I’m going to turn the generator on,” he said.

“It’s out of fuel,” Nick replied, and Jeff faltered. “I was gonna buy more this afternoon.”

Jeff narrowed his eyes at Nick for a moment before extending his hand.

“Car’s diesel, isn’t it? I’ll get some from the tank. Give me the keys.”

Nick bristled, but just then, Abby sat down across from him, and he rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he muttered, complying with the request.

Daniel scratched his head at the ridiculousness of the situation, at a loss on how to deal with their posturing—or if he should even interfere at all—as he took the seat next to Abby. He leaned his chin in his hand and noticed, from the corner of his eye, that she did the same.

In moments like these, Daniel was reminded of how much he loved her knack for the dramatic. Which, of course, she had inherited from Jeff, and even though his boyfriend was way more subtle, it was still one of his quirks. One that Daniel had found endearing since the beginning. He sighed internally, letting the aggravation of the day wash over him. He would do anything for his little family, even put up with this asshole. That didn’t mean, however, that he was not going to set him right. Nick had to understand and accept that he was the stranger here and had zero leverage over them.

He exchanged a glance with Abby.

“Go help him,” Daniel told Nick.

“You really like to boss people around, don’t you.” Nick sprawled even more on his chair—a real brat.

“You shouldn’t be rude,” Abby said, “especially to Daniel. Once, at school, when Bobby Finn was being a bully, Daniel made him cry in front of everyone just by looking at him.”

That had actually been an unintended outcome of Bobby Finn trying to have a staring contest with Daniel when he was scolded for pulling on another kid’s hair. The boy had been fine afterward, but in that moment—as it usually happened in first grade—a legend had been born.

Daniel barely suppressed his chuckle. Nick was gaping, incredulous, at Abby’s perfectly straight face.

“Domenico,” Daniel said in his quiet-time voice, using the guy’s full name for effect. “Go help Jeff.”

That earned him a scoff, but this time, Nick drew himself to his feet.

And promptly walked into a wall.

They waited until he was outside to high-five, Abby delighted, and Daniel wondering how pissed off Nick would be when he realized he’d been played.

★

Whatever happened when the two were outside seemed to have helped, because when they returned, Jeff was less tense and Nick more animated. But that reprieve only lasted for so long before they started elbowing each other while trying to make dinner.

Abby sighed from next to Daniel. She didn’t even take her eyes off Jeff’s phone, which was currently running the puzzle app Jeff liked to indulge in. Daniel hummed in agreement and flipped the page of the book he was reading on his own device. Technology was such a miracle, yet it couldn’t save them from the blizzard.

“You’re doing it wrong,” came from Nick, exasperation to the fore.

“I’ll do it how I please.”

With that, the bickering started. Over and over their voices rose in waves until the other two managed to throw in requests to “keep it down”—from Daniel—or to “at least hide the knives before you fight”—from Abby.

Dinner itself was less thunderous, and they even had enough hot water to clean up a bit. No toothpaste, but there were some toothbrushes in the bathroom. By ten, Abby was yawning wide enough to be contagious and, with silent agreement, they all decided to turn in.

“Oh, no,” Daniel said when Jeff moved to the unused pair of beds. “You two are why we’re in this mess, so you’re sharing. Abby and I will be fine over here, won’t we?”

Abby made a sleepy okay sign with her fingers, before clambering to the top bunk.

“I’m not taki—” Jeff’s muffled words were cut off by Daniel’s kiss.

“Stop it,” Daniel urged in a whisper. “Stop fighting, please. You should probably get it out of your system, but do that when Abby’s not here.”

Jeff pursed his lips, ready to disagree, and Daniel kissed him again.

“I can’t promise anything,” he mumbled.

“Then take it outside, knock each other’s lights out if you have to, but don’t break anything while we can’t reach the hospital.”

At that, Jeff laughed. It was small and half pained, but it was better than nothing. Daniel smiled kindly and rubbed at his arm.

“Not gonna throw fists.”

“That’s good.”

“But—”

“I know it hurts,” Daniel soothed. “You’re allowed to be upset. All I’m asking is to temper it down a little because all that’s going to accomplish is hurt her instead.”

“Yeah,” Jeff breathed. He closed his eyes and melted into Daniel, faced pushed into his shoulder.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah.”

“Together.”

Jeff hummed in approval, letting Daniel pet the back of his neck.

Their bubble burst when Nick cleared his throat. Jeff fled to the bathroom but Daniel turned to stare at Nick head-on, an eyebrow raised, until the man looked away in embarrassment.

“Damn right,” he muttered and didn’t imagine the defeated slump of Nick’s shoulders as he crawled into his bed.

★

When Daniel opened his eyes, the first thing he saw in the diffuse light of morning was Abby’s hand hanging over the top bunk. On the other side of the cabin, Jeff and Nick were sitting at the table, talking quietly, and Daniel let his eyes fall closed again. They sounded too focused on their discussion to merit being disturbed.

“But a guy, really?” Nick asked.

Jeff scoffed. “Get off it. You’ve known I was bi since high school.”

“Yeah, but guys are just for some fun here and there, not to move in together.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“I mean,” Nick continued, ignoring Jeff, “I get the appeal. You’re you. But what makes him so special?”

Daniel refrained from squirming.

“Mariani,” Jeff gritted, “I swear, if you say any of that in front of him, I will cut you.”

“There’s the Jeff I remember.” He sounded smug.

A smack followed, and then Nick hissed something close to “ass” before they went quiet again, back to slurping their coffees. Daniel could smell it from his bed. He missed home.

“He’s a good man,” Jeff said after a while. “Genuinely good. He cares about people, and he loves his students, even when they puke on him.” Daniel’s cheeks heated at that, but he kept still. “Look, Abby adores him, he’s great with her. Trust me when I tell you, relationships haven’t been easy for me. Being a single father—”

“You’re not—”

“Yes.” Jeff was as firm as he ever got. “I am. Her father. It’s me, not you.”

There was a noise that sounded like part grunt, part sigh, but Nick said nothing.

“I’m in love with him. We’re going the distance here, me and him and Abby.”

More silence followed, and after a while, someone shifted. Probably Jeff.

“How long have you been together?”

“We’re celebrating a year next week. And I liked him way before that.”

“Way before, huh? Same old Jeffy, never could get your mouth working around a crush.”

“Fuck off,” Jeff said, but it lacked the usual animosity.

“Daddy, not that word again,” Abby groaned sleepily, startling them all.

★

The day started with scrambled eggs and a realization that it might not stop snowing anytime soon. None of their phones could connect to the network, and Daniel was beginning to feel on edge. It was Christmas Eve, and they’d made plans for the day, a combination of traditions that he and Jeff had stayed up late to devise the week prior: the exchange of apples as gifts, Abby and Jeff’s chocolate cake, building paper flowers, and a myriad of small gestures designed to keep Abby giggling, like hanging up the mistletoe drawing she’d used last Christmas to make sure her daddy and Daniel kissed. Nick’s rental was unusable, almost mocking them from under a layer of splinters and snow, with a thick branch halfway piercing its windshield and the hood bent at an alarming angle.

Daniel wanted to get home just as direly as Jeff and Abby did, and it was the only reason why he had agreed to Jeff’s idea. Jeff was going to cut through the forest to the house, get his car, and come back for them. The assumption that the roads would be clear was risky, but the snow that had settled overnight wasn’t that high yet, and if they waited until the next day, driving would surely be impossible.

“Be careful,” Daniel urged after Jeff kissed Abby goodbye on the cheek.

“I will, don’t worry.”

Yet Daniel couldn’t stop worrying. The flurry was coming down thick and white, and visibility was low. Not as intense as it had been last year, the snowstorm that currently had them trapped at the cabin still brought back memories that only augmented the longing. With a nod, Daniel accepted his own kiss but remained outside on the small porch to watch Jeff make his way through the thicket.

Just when he could no longer see movement between the trees, the door opened and closed behind him. Stepping next to Daniel, Nick joined him in watching the whiteness.

“I couldn’t stand it,” Nick said after a few minutes, his voice barely above a rasp.

Daniel turned to him, eyebrows raised in question, and Nick waved vaguely at the cabin behind them.

“When she was born, I couldn’t stand the idea of her. Her birth killed my wife, and I just…” Nick shrugged and grasped with both hands at the narrow railing through the layer of fresh snow, head bowed down. “I thought, how dare she take Lauren’s life for her own. Everyone kept saying that at least I had the child, but it didn’t feel like that.”

Daniel hummed. “It’s not her fault.”

“I know, I know, but at the time, I was so consumed with grief that even the idea of her made me nauseous.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Nick hesitated, looking anywhere but at Daniel as he straightened. “I wasn’t fair to you. The other day, I was downtown and saw Jeff and Abby coming out of the post office. I don’t know why the hell I followed them, but… Anyway, they stopped at the school, and that’s when I first saw you three together.”

“Did you now,” Daniel deadpanned, unimpressed.

“I was insanely jealous that she was so happy without me.”

It explained a lot, but it didn’t mean that Nick could get off free. Daniel shoved his hands into his pockets, considering.

“Your jealousy is unwarranted and unwelcome. I understand where you’re coming from, but you should stop yourself before you do more damage. If my birth parents had come to my family to drag me away, I’d have hated them so much that no matter what they did after, our relationship wouldn’t have even been cordial. It wasn’t that I didn’t wish to know them, but I already had a loving family. And so does Abby.” Daniel snapped his mouth shut. He’d said too much, but maybe it would help Nick see this whole thing from Abby’s point of view.

Nick was silent, probably mulling it over. Daniel would have gladly left him to it, except Jeff was out there, somewhere in the mass of white trees, and he didn’t want to go back inside yet.

“She learned it from you, then?” Nick asked, startling Daniel.

“What?”

“She’s fierce, just like you.”

Daniel shook his head. “That’s all Jeff. I didn’t have a hand in shaping her personality or her manners, or anything, really. I’ve only known her for a little over a year, so her development is Jeff’s work. And he’s done wonderfully. Men can raise kids on their own, you know. It’s the twenty-first century.”

Nick took that in with a scratch of his chin before he started flicking the remaining lumps of snow off the railing.

“I still don’t get it,” he said quietly. “You and him.”

“You don’t have to get it, just accept it. This is the reality of Abby’s life now, and if you want to have any part in it, you’ll have to suck it up.”

The expression on Nick’s face was sour. Daniel turned to him fully and took a deep breath through his nose.

“Listen, we can talk this through. Jeff is still upset—incredibly so—but I don’t think he’ll want to actually keep you away from her. The only difference is that you’ll get to be Uncle Nick instead of daddy. Abby’s a smart girl, and I doubt she came from stupid genes, so consider this. It would take years to settle it in court. Abby’s already seven, do you really want to put her through that? She’d remember and understand everything you do to tear her world to pieces and resent you for it forever.”

Nick opened his mouth, but Daniel put a hand up to stop him. He wasn’t finished.

“Face it. You abandoned her when she was defenseless. Now you have to accept your new role like a big boy.”

Daniel huffed at the scowl on Nick’s face and continued, “Tell me, why are you here, really?”

Nick swallowed. It looked painful.

“I wanted to meet her,” he finally said. “It took me all these years to understand that she’s part of Lauren, not a replacement but her legacy. I want to be in her life.”

“There you go. Not an impossible objective if you stop the tantrums. You can choose to be a part of this, or fight us. And never doubt that we will win.” It was daring to make such statements, but if it got Nick to lay off his plans of dragging Abby through a legal battle, it was worth it.

“I hate you,” Nick said, but the set of his shoulders showed how much he took Daniel’s words to heart.

“No, you don’t.”

Movement from beyond the tree line caught their attention and soon, Jeff was running up to them, his breathing heavy.

“What happened?”

“There were some fallen trees; I couldn’t get through.” He waved with his phone. “I made it to the shore and got a signal, so I called Amber to come pick us up.”

“She had plans—”

“She sounded happy to help us,” Jeff countered. “Said there are already snowplows out on the roads.” He looked around. “She won’t be able to drive all the way down here, so let’s get moving. We’re meeting her at the main road.”

★

Into Amber’s trunk went their backpacks, Jeff’s duffel, and the perishables Daniel had gathered from the cabin. There was no point in letting food stink up the place since it was unlikely they’d make it back until after Christmas. Daniel took the front seat while Abby sat in the back between Jeff and an annoyed Nick. He’d been grumbling about the rental and fees for a while.

“Everything okay with you?” Daniel asked Amber as she pulled out onto the road.

“Yeah, why—? Oh! No, everything’s great.” Her grin was wide, and her eyes sparkled. “She’s awesome. I just needed an opportunity to scream in happiness about it without embarrassing myself.”

That made Daniel laugh a little, but it turned louder at Amber’s next words.

“What’s with the pouty dude?”

Daniel coughed. “Well, you know, family.”

In the mirror, Daniel saw Abby grin, and Nick seemed properly chastised. It was then that Jeff’s hand snuck over the back of Daniel’s seat and squeezed his shoulder. He couldn’t see Jeff’s face, but Daniel took the gesture as a thank you for including Nick, despite how he’d treated Daniel. He gave his hand a reassuring pat.

It was already past noon when Amber dropped them off. Nick stood there, a few steps from the house, clutching at his bag and clenching his jaw.

“Stay,” Jeff said.

Nick nodded and followed.

★

Yesterday’s lunch sat in a casserole in the fridge, so it was salvageable. But showering and eating and cleaning up had taken a while—enough for the early evening to roll in.

Upstairs, Jeff had locked the door to their bedroom, busy with the presents he’d planned to wrap the day before. Daniel offered to help, but had been adamantly turned down. He smiled, looking up at the ceiling. On the other side of the living room, Nick was perusing his bookshelves. Daniel was pretty sure Nick wasn’t thinking of following through with his threats anymore. They would need a confirmation of some sort though, and Daniel wondered how he might go about making that happen.

A tug at his sleeve pulled him from his musings, and he turned to see Abby’s knowing grimace.

“We don’t have time for the cake, do we?”

The cake Jeff and Abby made every year was supposed to be something they all did together, like the dumplings. They wanted Daniel to be a part of it, in the same way Daniel wanted them to share in his heritage, and maybe in the following years, they would add some traditions of their own. Daniel had always been willing to try new things.

“Tomorrow,” he offered, but Abby was still dejected. An idea struck then. “We always wanted to learn how to make banana bread, didn’t we? Let’s try that now.”

“Yes! Cake!” Abby shouted, punching a fist into the air.

Upstairs, a door opened, and then Jeff’s voice drifted through.

“Don’t burn the kitchen!”

“Don’t worry, Daddy, I won’t let him near the oven.”

“Hey,” Daniel defended. But he allowed himself to be pushed toward the fridge by an enthusiastic Abby.

Nick drifted over by the time Daniel had mashed the bananas on a plate. He adjusted the knobs on the oven when he thought Daniel wasn’t looking, and surreptitiously plucked some bits of shell from the bowl of eggs before Abby got to whisk them. Mostly, though, he sat at the counter, watching quietly.

Maybe he wasn’t that much of a bastard after all. Just needed to get his head out of his own ass.

While the bread was baking, Abby installed herself on the sofa with a book, but Daniel remained at the counter next to Nick.

“What you said to me,” Daniel asked, “have you told Jeff?”

Nick slumped in his seat. “Not yet. I don’t really know how to.”

“Hmm.” Daniel drummed his fingers on the countertop, considering. “Have you at least apologized to them? Properly?”

The wild look Nick gave him said it all.

“Then do it now. Give them that as a Christmas present and assure them you’re not going to break our family apart. It’s all they really want from you right now. The rest will come in time.”

Nick chewed at the inside of his cheek in the same way Abby did. It made Daniel smile internally as he watched Nick puff out his chest in poorly disguised bravado.

“Okay,” Nick said and then made his way to Abby.

Daniel kept an ear out, half listening, but not really intending to eavesdrop. He only wanted to make sure there was no distress for Abby.

It wasn’t much later that Nick came back into the kitchen holding the stuffed bear. With a sigh, he dropped it in the trash can.

“Yeah, yeah, keep smirking,” he muttered at Daniel.

Daniel sipped his tea, the tight grip of uneasiness finally relenting.

★

The rest of the evening unfolded around a barely avoided sugar disaster, and gifting apples to each other. They sat around the table with red wrapping paper and a mess of ribbons, and then had apples and banana bread for dinner. By the time they finished getting Abby to bed and setting the presents under the tree, Daniel was exhausted. Jeff looked even more so, but he stayed downstairs to talk to Nick.

As he lay in bed, Daniel’s thoughts rolled back over the past few days. With the elation of being part of this family, the appearance of Nick, and the stupid blizzard, it felt as if an entire week had passed. He was finally recovering from all the agitation, bordering on the edge of sleep, but he wanted to wait for Jeff—to confirm that his own words to Nick hadn’t messed anything up.

He must have dozed off because next thing he knew, Jeff’s arms were snaking around him from behind. Jeff kissed the back of his neck, and Daniel turned around in his embrace.

“I don’t know what you said to him, but it worked. He’s backing off, wants to try and be around. Without the other bullshit.”

Jeff looked drained but less morose, and Daniel caressed the side of his face.

“Haven’t forgiven him though.”

“That sort of thing takes time,” Daniel agreed.

Jeff pulled him closer. “I really didn’t mean to imply you’re not part of this. Of us. And it’s not because you helped with Nick.”

“I know,” Daniel said. “I heard what you told him this morning.”

With a groan, Jeff buried his face in the pillow. Daniel pinched his cheek.

“What time is it?”

“A little after midnight,” Jeff said. “Oh. Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, it is.”

Kissing Jeff while he was grinning proved to be a challenge, but Daniel was determined, and soon they were laughing like children.

★

The rest of the week wasn’t as quiet as Daniel had hoped. In between waiting for the snow to stop, arranging to retrieve the car from the cabin, and installing Nick at a hotel, they’d had dinner together twice and gone to the skating rink so Nick could spend time with Abby. But then Saturday rolled around, and Daniel was vibrating with energy.

Anniversary. Their one-year celebration. He was giddy and anxious and utterly awestruck by the realization that, yes, he had a home and a family. They were his, like he’d wanted. Dinner had been private, sitting on the floor around the coffee table with Chinese dishes and a pot of hot cocoa. A strange mix, but it was so them.

“Abby’s asleep,” Jeff told him as he approached.

Daniel rolled around in his desk chair. He shook his latest snow globe, but Jeff took it from him and set it on the desk.

He grasped Daniel’s hand, then, and placed a kiss on his knuckles before he pulled him up. There was no music, they weren’t swaying, but it still felt like dancing when Jeff wrapped his arms around him.

“Hi, honey,” Daniel said.

“Hello,” Jeff returned with a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Ready for a new year?”

The shadows of snowflakes falling outside flickered against the lights of the tree, which enveloped them in a reflection of the warmth that emanated from inside Daniel’s chest.

“And another,” he whispered.

“And another,” Jeff echoed.

His kiss was soft, hands gentle, and Daniel closed his eyes. He was home, with his family, in a tender snowstorm.