"It's not even Auntie Leigh's birthday!" Navi was insistent. Arms crossed. Face red. "Her birthday is in three days. December 12th."

"Tree!" Raya yelled.

"Tee!" Lyra repeated. Tugged on Roman's joggers.

"Nav," Roman said, "you know your aunt would be perfectly fine with you guys putting the tree up before her birthday, right?"

She looked about ready to cry. Roman hadn't even had a morning coffee yet. Maybe he was ready to cry and was projecting onto his eldest. Christ.

"And even if she wasn't, she'll never know if you put it up before or not."

"Can I call her?" Navi looked less than convinced.

"It's two in the morning in Ontario right now, pal," Roman said. "Your aunt loves you, but she wouldn't be very happy if you called her right now. Maybe you can call her later, okay? When she and your uncle Mav are awake. Then you can say hi to both of them."

"I wanna be sure it's okay." Tears started to pool in Navi's eyes.

"I'm sure it's okay," Roman said. "I've known her for a long time."

"What if she gets sad?"

"We'll bake her some cookies just in case, okay?"

(Cookies that Maverick would eat and Everleigh would stare at.) (She'd been doing a thousand times better but nobody was perfect.)

"I miss her," Navi said. "I want her to be here."

It was something to say that Everleigh had spent most of Navi's life calling her a crotch goblin and Navi still thought the world of her. Even dressed up as a nurse in some of Everleigh's old scrubs for career day at school. Roman had sent her pictures and she'd replied with a 1000 crying emojis. She'd written about Everleigh more than Roman could count.

Who's your idol? Auntie Leigh.

What's your favourite subject? Science because I get to talk to auntie Leigh when I need help.

Are you related to anyone famous? Auntie Leigh won a science prize. (Sorry, Maverick.)

It wasn't a surprise to anyone other than Everleigh that this kid she'd watched start growing up had grown to love her and idolize her and be proud that she was related to her. Everleigh's birthday was like a national holiday to Navi. The trip they'd taken to Windsor for her birthday the year before was confirmation Navi wanted everything to do with her aunt. She'd even been taken to the lab where Everleigh worked, trying to develop her theory on fixing the hairs inside of ones ears and reversing hearing loss. Navi was fascinated by everything her aunt did. Roman and Florence figured there were worse things to fixate on.

(At least she hadn't discovered the plethora of songs about her aunt and uncle having sex.) (Roman had won the rock, paper, scissors round against Florence on who had to deal with it when the girls started asking questions.) (The conversation had started when they'd seen the tracklist for Resurgence, the album that had come out the year before—bodies, melbourne diaries, brokeback, breakfast nook, dress, the list went on, and those were only tracks from that album.)

"Auntie Leigh will be here soon," Roman said. "She and your uncle are coming for Christmas."

"Uncle Mav is coming?" Raya asked.

Lyra clapped her hands.

While they didn't dislike Everleigh—who could, really?—Maverick was something else to them. He was the one who would sing songs with them and play hide and seek until they had to go to bed. Maverick would take them for car rides when they were being stubborn and they'd come back ready to be calm and listen. Maverick was a miracle worker when it came to his nieces and the two younger ones would probably spend eternity begging him for piggy backs, both out loud and in ASL.

"Your mom didn't tell you that?"

"Nuh uh," Lyra said.

Roman's heart skipped a beat. Maybe that was supposed to be a surprise. "They'll be here after Auntie Leigh's birthday. She's spending it with Mags and Esmé at home."

"Can you tell her I miss her?" Navi asked. Her expression gave it all away—she was going to give her sisters this even though she was going to be upset about it.

Roman hoped that he could find the stupid ornament Everleigh had given him as a joke one year—a framed photo of her and Maverick sitting at some mall with Santa and all three of their middle fingers raised in the air. He still wasn't sure how they managed to convince a Santa Claus to do that, but if anyone could, it was those two boneheads. Roman had to put happy face stickers over the three hands before any of the girls were allowed to see it. Funnily enough, that had been Maverick's joke gift to him. Two insufferable peas in a damn pod.

"I'll text her right now," Roman said, pulling his phone from his pocket. "And when she replies I'll let you know what she said. Deal?"

Navi nodded. "We can put up the tree."

He quickly typed up a message. Tried to ignore that he had never deleted Everleigh's phone number, despite all that had happened. Sup, loser, Navster wants to know if we can put the tree up before your birthday, I told her you wouldn't care but she wants to hear it from you. Let me know. Don't reply sarcastically, this is painful enough.

Roman hugged her. "Thanks, kiddo."

"Can we still call when they wake up?"

"Course. And you can put their ornament on the tree."

"Thanks."

"Okay—" Roman pulled away from her and clapped his hands. "Who wants to help me grab everything from the storage locker?"

Never in the history of ever had there been so much cheering about visiting a dusty storage locker filled with memories Roman wasn't sure he wanted to relive.

If he found Florence's wedding dress before the Christmas ornaments, he was going to pay someone to hit him with their car.

*

Did people take e-transfer for hits on divorced fathers of three? Because Roman didn't have any cash.

"Did mommy look pretty in this?" Raya asked. She had the fabric in her hands, running her fingers along the tulle.

Of all the things she could've pointed out in his and Florence's storage locker, of course she'd picked the wedding dress. Not Roman's terrible collection of Formula One model cars that he hadn't the faintest idea what to do with after they'd sold their house. Not the boxes of baby clothes that they'd kept because they were both too sentimental to get rid of them. Not the drawings upon drawings from their kids in piles that would only grow higher as the years passed. No. None of that mattered a damn when there was a garment bag with the one thing in the storage locker Roman never wanted to see again.

(That was a lie, there was more than one thing.)

(They had a wedding photo album, guest book, and video he never wanted to see again, either.)

Roman kept his gaze away from the dress. The last thing he needed was to cry in front of his daughters. He had another therapy session soon, that was what that was for. "Mommy looked beautiful."

"Like a princess?"

"Like a queen."

"Did you look pretty?" Navi asked.

"Compared to your mom?" Roman asked. "Not in the slightest."

"Why didn't you look pretty?" Navi asked.

"To be her king!" Raya added.

"King!" Lyra said.

Maybe because in a room of the world's most beautiful royalty, Roman would still pick Florence out in a lineup. Nobody would ever compare.

"Sometimes when people really love each other," Roman said, "nothing will ever make them feel pretty, because their person will always be the prettiest."

"Do you tell mom she's pretty?"

"I..." Roman sighed. "Can you please help me look for these ornaments? No point in getting the tree if we don't have anything to decorate it with."

"Hot chocolate after?" Raya asked.

"Sure."

"Can we bake cookies?" Navi asked.

"Cookies!"

"I can't eat cookies," Roman said. The diabetes had made baking a lot less fun than it used to be. Usually he only baked when the girls were with him or when Maverick was coming over—there was no point in following recipes when he was alone because one a day meant they went stale before he could finish them. After seeing the wedding dress, he was less inclined to do any baking. Something in his stomach twisted and it wasn't because of his insulin levels.

"We can," Raya said.

And there it was. Always a new reason to revisit something he loved.

"Fine." Roman laughed. "But I'm making the chai ones."

Roman's mother had passed him a recipe for chai cookies before she'd passed that he was pretty sure she gaslit him into thinking he'd eaten throughout his childhood. When he'd come across Taylor Swift's recipe for chai cookies on Pinterest a couple months after she'd passed away, he couldn't help but laugh through his tears. Good old mothers.

He loved them whether they came from his mother or her favourite singer. The icing was wonderful and it was probably a large reason he had developed type two and had to stab himself in the finger twice a day. (Everleigh told him he was a bonehead for not getting a blood sugar monitor that stayed in his arm and his phone scanned.) (Roman countered with the fact he had three kids seven and under at the time and that it would've been torn out.)

"Not chocolate chip?"

"Not chocolate chip."

Navi pouted.

"I don't want any of that, thank you," Roman said. "You're getting hot chocolate, so we're making chai cookies."

"Christmas!" Raya said, pointing to a box at the back of the storage locker. Way back. Behind too many boxes and God knew what the hell else. Nothing Roman wanted to climb through, but nothing he wanted to let the girls climb through either.

"Shit," Roman muttered with a sigh. His eyes widened—scanning across each of his kid's faces. Each of them had heard him. "Nobody tells mom—"

"Chocolate chip cookies?" Raya asked. Smug. She'd learnt that from her aunt, no doubt in Roman's mind. A middle child through and through, Everleigh had taught her some bullshit.

"We can do both."

*

With Lyra on his shoulders, putting a tree up was a lot more difficult than it needed to be. She poked at his ears, stuck her fingers in his mouth and nose and not necessarily in that order, and pulled his hair at the most inopportune times. Maybe he should've taken them to a Christmas tree farm. That and chai cookies sounded like a good afternoon. Taylor Swift daydream.

"Sweetheart—" Roman's voice was slurred as Lyra stuck her hand in his mouth again. "—One chanth weft to shtop—"

Raya and Navi laughed at him. Couple of little shits. Who raised them like that?

"Ryrah—"

Lyra laughed.

Roman dropped the section of tree he was wrestling and picked Lyra up, taking her off his shoulders. Luckily, she laughed instead of crying. Erupted in a fit of giggles that made her fall to the floor.

"You know," Roman said, "if you help put the tree up, you actually get to decorate it sooner."

Raya snuck a cookie off the cooling rack when she thought Roman wasn't looking. He was always looking.

"Ah, ah, ah."

She pouted and placed the cookie back on the rack. Roman tried not to wrinkle his nose at her. At least she was doing what he, sort of, asked. Frankly, he was just glad she hadn't licked it. Navi would've—but she was sitting off to the side patiently waiting for him to finish putting the tree up himself.

"You can have one after the tree is set up—" Roman's phone vibrated in his pocket. "Hold that thought. Unless you grow two feet in the next minute."

They giggled. God, no one made him feel funnier than his kids.

you have my full permission to stick the tree up your ass if you'd like. <3

Roman rolled his eyes. I hate you.

A little too quickly, he was met with a bunch of middle finger emojis.

Why are you even awake?

i am ✨violently ill ✨

Ha ha.

that time i wasn't being sarcastic. want the photos of my regurgitated dinner?

Spare me.

Kingston made rainbow salads for dinner.

Do not say taste the rainbow.

TASTE THE FUCKIN' RAINBOW.

I'm blocking you.

you're too much of a caretaker to not ask me if i'm okay.

Are you okay?

am now. nothing left to puke.

Is Maverick awake?

you know as well as i do he doesn't sleep. stupid question.

I'll leave you with him then.

Roman.

What?

if you actually need it in writing, you can put the tree up whenever you want. not like we're going to be there until after my birthday.

Thank you.

any time.

Feel better.

tell the crotch goblins we love them or whatever.

Roman took a couple steps toward Navi, who had flopped onto the couch dramatically waiting for him to be done texting. He turned the phone toward her. "See? We're all good."

Navi read the message quickly. "Thank you."

"Any time, kiddo," Roman said. He held his fist out. "Want to help me put the tree up now?"

Navi smiled and bumped her fist against his. Got up from her makeshift bed. It was nice having an extra set of hands to put the tree up. It got up quickly, and the ornaments placed soon after were chaotically awful in the best way possible. Navi placed the one of Everleigh and Maverick and their satanic Santa near the top. Settling into the idea that Everleigh was fine with them putting the tree up, Navi even started to play some Christmas music from the speakers Florence kept in the living room.

"They're singing deck the halls / but it's not like Christmas at all!" Roman sang with the girls, Raya and Navi mostly knew the lyrics, Lyra liked to remix and make up her own. "'Cause I remember when you were here / and all the fun we had last year!"

Stepping back from the tree, Roman admired their handiwork. It was full of memories. Each girl had a spherical ornament for their first Christmas, there were photos throughout the years. It wasn't uncommon for Roman to get emotional seeing them. The girls were growing up quick and seeing them as babies was overwhelming. Especially when he and Florence were in most of the photos with them. Blissfully unaware of what was going to happen.

"Daddy, are you sad?" Raya asked. Already holding out a tissue toward him.

"You—" Roman took the tissue. Wiped at his eyes. "—Daddy's crying because you made him bake four trays of cookies. You booger."

Raya laughed. Roman messed up her hair. Probably shouldn't have—Florence had nicely French-braided it that morning so she could wake up with it curly the morning after.

To distract himself, Roman knelt down, plugging in the tree. White fairy lights were the finishing touch on their masterpiece. Each ornament shone a little brighter.

"It smells good in here, what's going on?"

Florence really needed to work on her timing. Walking in while Wham! was playing made Roman want to step into traffic. I love you, I meant it. God damn.

She looked around, none the wiser to Roman ready to fall at her feet if she needed a step stool. He'd be roadkill if she asked. Florence's eyes lit up when she saw the racks of cooling cookies.

"Did you bake?"

"Mhmm."

She took a step closer. "Did you make chai cookies?"

"Yeah." Roman scratched the back of his neck.

"Oh, my favourite."

He knew. "Still need icing. They're still cooling—"

Florence already had one in her hand, taking a bite. Breaking the seal—the girls dug in because he hadn't stopped her from doing so. He couldn't even be mad. She closed her eyes, drew a deep breath in. "Rome, these are delicious."

"Thanks."

"Thank you. This is exactly what I needed after work. I missed this." She needed to stop. If there was some higher power in the sky, they needed to strike him down with only their quickest of deaths.

"Eat as many as you want," Roman said. (A man under cover, but you tore me apart.) "Icing's in the fridge."

Florence hummed. Cupped her hand under her mouth as she took another bite. Walked toward him. "Tree looks great."

"They really wanted to put it up, I hope that's okay," Roman said.

"It's fine," Florence said. She tore her attention away from the tree, looking at the banshees with smeared chocolate across their lips. "Did you guys have fun today?"

The positive screams were not enough to distract Roman from the way the white fairy lights on the tree shone in Florence's eyes.

Navi grabbed Florence's hand and dragged her toward the tree. "Auntie Leigh and Uncle Mav are at the top!"

Florence nodded approvingly. "As they should be."

"Nana and papa and nana and dada are there too!" Raya said, pointing in the general direction of the tree.

"And Peppa!" Lyra added. Matter-of-factly.

Roman scooped her up in his arms and kissed her on the head. Damn right Peppa Pig was as important as family.

Lyra had one more ornament in her hands, Roman walked closer to the tree so she could place it on a free branch.

"Roman."

"Yeah?"

"Do I have something on my face?"

Roman scanned Florence's features. "No?"

"You're sure?"

"Pretty sure. Is this a test?" Roman was certain Lyra could probably feel his panicked heartbeat in his chest.

"You..." Florence searched his eyes. "You've been staring... practically since I walked in."

(A face on a lover with a fire in his heart.)

"You—uh—" Roman awkwardly adjusted Lyra so he was only holding her with one arm. "Actually, yeah—" What in the shit was he doing— "Just there." His thumb brushed her bottom lip. Gently. Like he was afraid he'd crumble if he put any pressure there. Torturing himself. That's what he was doing. Like hell something was actually there; he was being selfish. And stupid. He didn't want to meet Florence's gaze, but he did. "Got it."

"Thanks."

"Any time."

Her eyes shined a little differently after that. Roman couldn't quite place his finger on it.

Especially when he was trying desperately to keep his fingers to himself.