Daniel 01

It was about 8am on 21 Dec when the I received the call.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Jack."

Okay, I like Maggie. I also love my kids. But haven’t you ever felt like you had too much of a good thing?

"I’ve already told you I’m not adopting another kid, Maggie."

"Cool your jets, cowboy. This isn’t an adoption."

"Promise?"

"I swear."

Against my better judgment, I asked, "What is it then?"

"It’s a boy named Daniel. He’s in the hospital. We can’t track down his mom and his dad’s looking at some serious time. He was complaining about nothing being on television, so I asked what he’d like. He’s into…."

"Comics or games?" I interrupted.

"Both actually. He loves Yu-Gi-Oh and Spider-man. Think you could spare a few minutes to visit him? Maybe drop off some reading material?"

I most emphatically did NOT have time to do anything like that. Tomorrow was the big Christmas party for all my friends. The kids had had friends over constantly for the last few days. Still, I wasn’t going to go Scrooge on some poor kid stuck in the hospital with no family.

"All right, Mags," I assured her, "I’ll handle it."

"This morning," she prompted, only half in question.

"This morning," I promised, letting just a hint of exasperation creep into my voice.

We talked a few minutes longer before I hung up, only half exasperated and half feeling sorry for this kid.



It wasn’t long after visiting hours began that I walked into the hospital, having stopped to gather several things, including my redheaded, eleven-year old son. Normally Ryan might have been a bit hesitant about being dragged off to visit some kid he didn’t know; but he was in a holiday fix like I’d often been trapped in; pretty much all his friends were visiting relatives and the only one left, Tony Marcotte, was grounded. This time he was thankful for the chance to do something.

It was no trouble to find Daniel’s room. The door was standing open and I could see a Chicano boy who looked about the right age, staring with disgust at some game show. The little tag on the door read, ‘Chavez, Daniel Q.’, so I tapped.

"Hello?" the boy said when he saw us standing there.

"Hi. I’m Jack Wells. This is my son Ryan. A friend of mine from CPS called and said you might like to have some visitors."

The boy wasn’t the best-looking Latino boy I’d ever seen, but he was a far way from ugly. Of course, I could be being unfair to him. After all, his hair was obviously in need of a wash, his lip was swollen, he had a black eye, and there was a fairly big bruise on his cheek. To top off all that, he was wearing one of those paper-like, hospital johnnies that one could never get to fit properly. There was a good chance I wasn’t seeing him at his best right then.

I’m not sure I ever did learn the entire story, and what I did learn came over time. Maggie had told me part of it, and Daniel’s assigned caseworker told me some more. I later heard some from the police, and Daniel filled in the rest over a couple of discussions. Along with a few conclusions I’ve drawn from things at which he hinted, I think I have a pretty good idea what happened.

Daniel’s father was a heavy drinker. Because Christmas fell on a Monday, the kids had gone to school the previous Monday and got out early on Tuesday, 19 Dec. Daniel, who was in sixth grade, had been invited to a party that night, and his father had promised to take him. It seems like Dad had forgotten that promise and stopped to ‘knock a few back’ on the way home, not arriving home until after 7pm. Since that’s when Daniel was supposed to be at the party, he wasn’t very happy and began to complain as soon as his dad got there. Dad smacked the boy in the back of the head and told him to go get in the car.

From what I’ve heard, Daniel’s dad wasn’t a mean drunk, but he also wasn’t happy about his eleven-year-old son being so unreasonable as to expect him to worry about a kid’s party while he was busy drinking. On the drive to the party, he was busy chewing Daniel out, threatening to ‘whup his butt’, and in general complaining about the ingratitude of children. He was busy enough complaining that he almost missed the turn. When Daniel pointed it out, instead of going around the block, he tried to take it at thirty miles per hour, fishtailed, and smashed the rear, passenger’s side into a parked car. Daniel, who wasn’t wearing a seat belt, had the side of his head slammed into the passenger’s window, causing most of the facial damage I saw. The car didn’t hit directly enough to stop it, and Dad still had his foot on the gas, but his hands had come off the wheel, so he had no control. Of course, after ‘just a few’ beers (and a couple of whiskeys the cops found out about by talking to the bartender), his reflexes weren’t what they should have been. He went over the curb and smashed into a fire hydrant. He hurt his left wrist and had some bruises on his chest from hitting the steering wheel. Daniel’s head smacked into the dashboard, dotting his eye and giving him a minor concussion.

They two of them had been taken to the hospital right away. As soon as he was given a clean bill of health, Mr. Chavez was arrested for what turned out to be his second felony DUI (he’d done two years on the first, about the time Daniel had started grade school). They later added felony charges of reckless endangerment and abuse of a child by neglect. Daniel was admitted for observation, and they wanted to hold him at least forty-eight hours to be sure the concussion really was minor.

His first day hadn’t been pleasant. Daniel was happy for someone to talk to who wasn’t a cop or doctor and told us all about how they’d awakened him several times during the night and how tired he was once they said he could sleep straight. Then he was complaining about them not having any of the good cable stations and the food being crap. I suppose that contributed to his being happy to see us.

Finally his curiosity couldn’t be constrained anymore. "What’s in the bag?" he inquired, pointing at the duffle over my shoulder.

"Oh, the CPS lady who called said you might like something to read." I opened the bag and pulled out the newest comics, plus several collections of old comics, mostly Spider-man, but a couple of other things as well, and a couple of the Marvel Super-Hero novels. Even his black eye went wide.

The three of us talked a bit about comics and stuff (and if I thought his eyes had gone wide when he saw the books, you should have seen his face when Ryan told him I owned the comic book stores). After that, I pulled out my own novel, and let the two boys set up to play Yu-Gi-Oh.



We were on the same Christmas schedule that year as we are now, and my nephews were all going to be coming over that night, plus I needed to go into Dallas to get Trent and my brother Matt’s kids, so we couldn’t stay too long. I would have been happy to leave Ryan with him, but I’m pretty sure the hospital wouldn’t have been too thrilled with an unaccompanied eleven-year old, so we took off, but with a promise to be back.

As soon as we were in the car, Ryan buckled up and then turned to me. "Are you going to adopt him, Dad?"

"Don’t you think we have enough boys in the house, Ryan?"

"It’s not like it’s crowded, and he says he doesn’t have any place to go."

"Did you tell him I was going to adopt him?" I asked nervously.

"No, he was just telling me he didn’t know what he was going to do since they arrested his dad. He hasn’t seen his mom in a long time, and he doesn’t have any grandparents or nuthin’. I just asked where he was gonna spend Christmas."

Great Ryan. Thanks. It’s not like I don’t get enough of this kind of crap from Maggie without you chipping in.



The trip to Dallas went smoothly enough. I took a few minutes to visit my father and Rose and got to chat with Matt for a while, but I never could completely forget that kid lying in the hospital bed, who had to have strangers called in to visit him a few days before Christmas.

As soon as I got Shea, Campbell, and Trent settled in, I went to my office and called Maggie. She wasn’t Daniel’s assigned case officer (she’d just been asked to call ‘her comic book guy’ about him), so she transferred me through to Karen somebody, who was handling him.

"Hi," she greeted me warmly. "Thanks a lot for visiting Daniel."

"It’s my pleasure. He was a nice kid. Look, I was just wondering what’s going to happen with him. How long’s he going to be in the hospital? Have they found any family yet?"

"No family yet. They don’t even have a lead on his mom. We found his birth certificate, but it looks like his parents weren’t even married. There’s really not a lot I can do about it, since he and his father neither one are telling us anything. I did put out a ‘lost child’ notice, but since we have the birth certificate, that’s not very likely. As for how long, the doctor was talking about letting him go tonight or in the morning. With it this close to Christmas, I doubt we’ll be able to find a family for him, so he’ll probably have to go into one of the facilities."

"Won’t that be rough, right before Christmas, I mean?"

"It’s always rough, Mr. Wells, but we don’t have much choice."

"What if you could find a family that could take him in just short term—like a few days until after Christmas?"

"That is possible, and I’m sure it’d be a lot better for him. Are you volunteering?"

I knew, right then there was no doubt in my mind what was going to happen, but I still said yes.

"I’m sure he’ll be excited. Hold on one moment, please."

I heard the click as she put me on hold and could just imagine her running over to Maggie’s desk so they could high-five and laugh at how they’d hooked me again. It was only a minute before she came back on the line.

"I just checked with Maggie, Mr. Wells." HA! I knew it!!! "She says your paperwork’s all up to date, so I’ll just need to fill out some things specific to Daniel and get you to sign them."

Both of us were planning to see Daniel that afternoon, so we made arrangements to meet there, I answered a few questions, and we hung up.

Daniel was happy to see me when I showed up that afternoon, and even happier when I pulled some clothes out of the bag. At his request, I turned my back while he pulled a pair of Ryan’s briefs on, under his gown, then he doffed the gown to don a pair of Huck’s old, gray sweat pants and a plain blue t-shirt. He seemed much happier as he climbed back into the bed.

We talked for a bit, then I reached back into the bag. "Now this," I warned him, "is only a loan. Bobby would kill me if he didn’t get it back."

With that caveat, I pulled a Playstation Portable out, along with a couple of games and a couple of movies. His eyes went bright, and I grabbed the games back until I’d extracted a promise that he’d not make a fuss about going to bed when he was told. He wasn’t happy with me, but he did make the promise, however reluctantly.

Karen was only a few minutes late, and she came in with the doctor. She and I took seats out of the way after the doctor introduced himself to us, and watched him get Daniel back out of the t-shirt, then checked his eyes, ears, and throat, then listened to his chest for a while. While he was doing that, he asked all the questions you normally get after a head injury (Dizzy? Blurred vision? Headaches?) Finally he let Daniel put his t-shirt back on while he was making a few notes on the chart, then turned to us— Karen really, I suppose.

"I’m happy with his recovery, and he’s not showing any signs of a concussion, but I’d prefer to keep him overnight again, so I can check him in the morning, after he’s had a full night’s sleep. Would that be a problem?"

"Not at all," she assured him.

"Good," he replied. Pausing for a moment, he then added, "I’ll also need to talk to whoever is going to be caring for him when he’s released. Do you know who that’ll be yet?"

"Actually, we do," Karen answered, and I saw Daniel’s eyes light up with curiosity. "It looks like we might have to place you in a foster care facility while we look for your mom, Daniel; but for now, we’ve found a family who’s willing to take you in temporarily—at least over Christmas. Would that be okay with you?"

He nodded cautiously. After all, the boy didn’t have a lot of great choices here. I’ve visited group homes and have some idea what they’re like, and have also lived (for short times) in a dorm environment. I can’t say it’s where I’d want to spend Christmas. Still, the idea of going home to a family I didn’t know for the biggest holiday of the year didn’t sound a lot greater. Of course, it seemed like Daniel’s entire family consisted of him and his dad, so maybe the holidays weren’t such a big deal to him.

I took my cue from Karen when her eyes cut to me. "Things’ll be a little tight, and the days before Christmas are always kind of crazy around my house, Daniel, but we can squeeze you in if you want to come."

He nodded, a little less hesitant now.

"Okay, but like Karen said, this is only for a few days. My house is already kind of full, but you can stay until after Christmas, anyway. Okay?"



Quit snickering. You already know how this turned out. I really did feel that, even though I had two bedrooms that were empty most of the time, my house was pretty full. More importantly, I felt that I didn’t have enough time to devote to the stores and the kids that I already had, not as much as they deserved, anway. It seemed to me that taking another kid in would be irresponsible. I just couldn’t stand the idea of making the kid spend Christmas as his first day in a group home without time for anyone to even arrange presents for him.



Back home, our family night went well and we all had a good time. We played some games, watched some Christmas movies, and finally turned in—exhausted, but happy. I did make time during dinner to tell the kids that a guest was going to be staying with us a few days and explained his situation. Ryan told the other guys a bit about Daniel, but all through dinner, he kept shooting me unusual looks, like I’d give a kid that was trying to get away with something.

I also made time to make a list that evening. I was supposed to meet the doctor and Karen at the hospital at 10am and bring him home, if his final check-up was okay. Before that, I’d divvied assignments up among my mom, Corey, and Marcus, then left two hours early (and even then barely got to the hospital on time).

After watching the doctor go through the same routine again, I listened to instructions on what to watch for, when to medicate him, and how to handle the rest of his care. He gave me a couple of prescriptions and said goodbye.

Daniel’s street clothes had been ruined during the wreck (mostly due to a bloody nose), so all he had was the things I’d brought him. He packed those back in the same duffle and we left.

Our first stop was by his house. He let us in and we packed up a few things for him. Karen had explained what he’d be able to take to the foster home, so we picked things carefully, packing as tightly as we could. Mostly clothes, but he also took a few pictures and a baseball trophy from last season. He looked around for a while, but we both knew there just wasn’t room for the other stuff. He asked me what would happen to it. I honestly didn’t know but assumed they’d be evicted when no one paid the next month’s rent, but was thinking about paying for a storage facility for them, and made a note to talk to his father somehow.



Daniel and I had planned on heading almost straight home, but even after we’d stopped by his apartment, there were a few things he needed, so we ran into Target. By that time, it was getting late, so we stopped for burgers. He was impressed that I didn’t make him order off the value menu. I was impressed that he really was pretty smart, though he admitted his grades in school weren’t that great. If he paid as much attention to his school subjects as to pop culture, I had no doubt he’d be a straight A student.

We finally got home about 2pm, and Daniel nearly went into shock. I’d not really thought about it when we stopped to get his clothes, but his apartment hadn’t even had lights around the door and only had a small, table top Christmas tree. Our home, with the lawn decorations, house lights, lights in the trees, decorations in the windows and on the porch, seemed to be a bit overwhelming to him. We had to go in through the front door just so he could get a good look at everything.

You’d think seeing the front yard would have prepared him, but I think his jaw might have come completely unhinged when he saw our Christmas tree. It wasn’t just the tree or even the train going around the base, but it was a perfect real life postcard at that second. That night was our ‘tribal’ Christmas party, when we’d have all of the families that were friends with our families over. Tommy was in the kitchen making cookies and carols were playing on the stereo. All we needed was some snow falling past the back window and a fire in the hearth and everything would have been perfect. As it was… not bad for Texas.

At that point, I had two bedrooms that were at least partially empty. Downstairs, a bedroom was set aside for Barry and upstairs was one for Corey. Barry used his for visitations and stayed with me most of the summer. Corey barely used his room anymore since he was old enough to drive. His mom only lived five minutes away, so it made more sense for him to go home most nights, even when he did something with us. I’d thought about putting Daniel up there, but Ryan suggested putting the new boy in with him. Huck and Ryan were best friends and always roomed together when Huck was with us, but since Huck wouldn’t be over-nighting with us now until after Christmas, and he could always stay with Barry if he needed to.

We got Daniel settled in with Ryan, who gave him a tour of the house, while I went through making sure everything was all right. I think Daniel walked around with his eyes ready to fall out for the next several hours. It seemed like every time he thought he’d seen everything, he met someone new or saw something else.



The hours passed quickly for me, as they always will when I don’t have quite enough time to do everything, and the guests began to arrive. Daniel stood at the door with us to meet everybody, but after a while, he wandered off to hang with Ryan and my godson Colin. I left them alone for twenty minutes or so before calling him back to the door. If Daniel’s eyes had been wide before, they nearly popped out this time when he saw the serious looking, dark blond boy with the heart-shaped face standing at the door.

"Quint!"

"Daniel!"

The two of them managed to avoid actually hugging each other as they bumped up close, shaking hands and thumping shoulders. As they carried on their carefully unaffectionate display of affection, I looked at the lady standing in the door with Quinten. She was smiling as big as I was.

"You must be Mrs. Sewell. Please, come in."

"Thank you Mr. Wells," she said, stepping around the two boys who were totally oblivious to us.

"Call me Jack."

"Only if you call me Cindy."

By the time we completed the introductions, the two boys had calmed down a bit, and his mom called Quint’s attention to her.

"Let me see your bag, Quint."

"Mo-o-om," the boy replied in an obvious complaint, though I couldn’t imagine why he’d be complaining. He did, however, know enough to hand it over.

She unzipped it and pulled out a plastic zip bag with several items in it.

"Quint had some health problems when he was younger. He’s pretty good these days, but…."

"It’s better to be safe than sorry," I finished for her.

"Exactly," she said with a smile, obviously happy to find a father who didn’t think she was too worried.

She went though each medication with me, and finished by quietly telling me to make sure Quint wore his Good Nites, even though he didn’t need them often anymore. "But I’m sure he’ll soak up as much soda tonight as you let him, so it’s just a good idea."

I’m sure Quinten was envying Daniel his dark complexion, since he was glowing nearly as bright as the Christmas tree by now. I could empathize with him, but his mom was being fairly quiet, this was obviously stuff Daniel already knew, and she was telling me things I should know for a kid staying overnight with me. She could probably have just trusted him about the Good Nites, but maybe he’d tried to skip them before.

While Cindy was explaining all this, I was taking the chance to examine the boy. While talking to Karen, I’d asked about friends of Daniel’s. She’d called a couple of them, but no one had been in a situation to take in a foster child. While she couldn’t give me any of their numbers, she had been willing to call one of them and give them my number. Cindy had returned the call that afternoon and had been very happy both to hear that I’d brought Daniel home (and she swore she wished she’d thought of a Christmas furlough) and to let Quint spend the night to keep him company, which is how he ended up standing here.

The boy wasn’t exactly good looking, though he might end up handsome in a few years. His chin was almost pointed, which kept his face from being too small. His nose was long, but thin, and his mouth was narrow. His eyes were a honey-brown that looked great with his blond hair, and his skin had just a hint of dark complexion to it, like you’d expect from an early summer tan. He wasn’t especially tall, though a little taller than Daniel, but he was lean enough that it looked like he had a couple of extra inches. Overall, he looked more like he was about to interrogate you instead of play, until he smiled. He had a very boyish smile—innocent, but with more than a hint of mischief.

"Oh," Cindy said, drawing my attention back to her. "You may have to keep a thumb on Quinten this evening. He’s usually pretty good, but he’s been on a tear the past couple of days. Maybe he was just upset about Daniel—they’ve been best friends since kindergarten you know—but his dad already had to spank him today."

She stopped and looked up at me, even when Quint exploded with disbelief. "MO-OOO-OM!!!"

She glanced at him and smiled, then looked at me sheepishly.

"I’m sorry, I know some people don’t believe in spanking anymore…."

"Oh, he believes in it!" she was interrupted. I turned to see Cal and Cason Kirk walking behind me. When I offered to demonstrate my beliefs, they both took off quickly enough. When I looked back at Cindy, she was smiling.

"Well, that’s good to know. If Quint gives you any trouble, feel free to thump him yourself or call us and his father will come and get him."

I’d only thought Quint was blushing before. Now he was making the tree look dim and was intently studying the pattern of tile in the entryway.

"I’m sure he and Daniel will manage to have a great time without getting into any trouble. Right, Quint?"

He did look up at me now, meeting my eyes with gratitude as he agreed.



The two of them tried to sneak away, but I held on to them until Cindy had gone, then pulled them into the kitchen for a quick talk, while I made sure the snack buffet was ready to go. While I was doing that, Daniel jumped in and did my job for me.

"Did you get the belt?"

"No, it wasn’t that bad. Mom just kept bugging me about some chores. I told her I’d do ‘em, but she went all ‘mom’ on me and said ‘now!’, and I guess I kinda back talked her and Dad musta heard."

"Yow," Daniel commented, quietly, but emphatically.

"Yeah."

"You seem to know a lot about how his dad spanks, Daniel," I mentioned, in a half-questioning tone.

"Oh, yeah," the boy replied. I’ll bet Rob’s spanked me more than my dad has." Rob, I guessed, being Mr. Sewell.

"Yeah," Quint added before I could comment. "Daniel’s dad don’t spank too much. Mostly he’ll just thump your head if he’s mad at you. My dad spanks a lot, though."

"Really? And you don’t deserve any of them, I suppose."

The boy went scarlet but answered honestly, "Well… most of them, I guess."

"You should see what Jack spanks with. He’s got these paddles."

"Like at school?"

"No, little ones. Ryan says they gotta lay down on his legs when he spanks ‘em, like when your dad’s using his hand. Wanna see one?"

"Hang on before you decide to go show him anything. I just wanted to make a couple of points with you guys. Okay?"

I waited for them to nod.

"Good. First, don’t get too rowdy tonight. If an adult tells you to do something, either mind them or come check with me if it’s a problem. Don’t run in the house. Don’t yell. We’ve got a lot of guests tonight, so we need to stay reasonably calm and quiet. If you guys will do those things tonight, I’ll promise no spankings. Oh, and the usual stuff like no fighting and be polite. Got me so far?"

They both nodded.

"The second thing is for Quint. Bedwetting runs in my family, so all of my kids and most of our guests tonight know you can’t help it and it’s no big thing. However, the easiest thing to do about it is, when you get ready for bed, just go take a leak and change in the bathroom. Put on your Good Nites and a big t-shirt and you’ll be fine."

"I don’t have a big t-shirt," he said a bit down, though he obviously liked the idea.

"That’s no problem. I’m sure Marcus has one that would be huge on you. Just remind me later. Now, unless you have any questions, go enjoy yourself."



They both did. Daniel not only now had the company of someone he knew, he also had someone to show around, so he had the chance to appear blasé. Daniel was surprised when Santa managed to pull out a couple of gifts for him, but Quinten was shocked when he got something. I was too busy to keep a constant eye on them, but they obviously had a really great time.



The day after our tribal party is always pretty quiet. At least for me. The kids are welcome to go places or have friends over, but by 6pm, it’s family only. That’s still a bit of a crowd, but it’s a crowd with their own places to go.

When Marcus went to work that afternoon, he dropped Quinten home on the way. A while later, Daniel came wandering in. I was lying on the couch, reading. A few minutes later, I saw someone out of the corner of my eye and looked up to see that Daniel was sprawled across an armchair flipping open a book of his own.

Christmas is a little crazy around here, not just because of the number of kids I have, but because of the rest of my family. While I never really got to know Jason’s mom, I’ve been close with the rest of my brothers’ mothers. I consider them family and you want to spend Christmas with your family. Unfortunately, they probably don’t want to spend time with the man they’ve divorced. I finally told my mom to suck it up. By this Christmas, my mom and dad had been divorced forty years. That meant that my brothers, Linda and Joe, and Mary all came to my house on Christmas Eve. All the kids end up getting four gifts, one from Mary, one from Linda and Joe, one from the aunts and uncles (we draw names), and then all the cousins draw names among each other. We siblings also exchange gifts with each other by name draw. Of course, Mary, Linda, and Joe all get something from us.

Before we do the gift exchange, we have dinner. This is comparable to our Thanksgiving meal in size and menu. We have brisket, turkey, ham, green bean casserole, candied yams, baked corn, mashed potatoes and gravy, and dressing, plus a big relish tray with pickles, olives, the cranberry sauce, onions, and more. The previous year, we’d added a vegetarian dish as well, after Tommy had converted. This year, we added something new. Apparently it’s a Mexican tradition to serve tamales for Christmas dinner. I think it was Mary Lynn (Ben’s wife) who decided that it would be nice to add them. I don’t think Daniel realized it was a tradition, but they were appreciated anyway and have been a part of our Christmas meal every since.

When we’re ready for the gift exchange, we start a fire, dim the living room lights just a bit, turn on some Christmas music, and spread out. The moms all hover with cameras, while the dads mostly try to direct everything. Me? I just kick back and watch what’s going on. To me, the best part about Christmas is watching the faces as the gifts are opened.

It had taken some work to do, but Daniel’s face was worth watching when he got a Spider-man watch from my brother Mike. The other gifts weren’t quite as perfect, but it made me really glad that he wasn’t having to spend this evening with a bunch of people he didn’t know. Well, with a bunch of people he didn’t know in a foster care facility, anyway.

After the gifts were all opened, the kids went crazy for a while. They had to show everything to everyone, then run off to try it out or compare. The adults started breaking into groups as well, and I had to smile, just to see the house so full and happy.

When the littlest guys started to poop out, I broke out our traditional Christmas pajamas. That year was pretty plain—just normal, red pajamas with a snowflake pattern. I’d had to have them next day aired, and his weren’t monogrammed, but I’d even managed to get a pair for Daniel. He fussed about having to put them on, but it wasn’t serious and you could tell was happy at being included.

No matter how happy things were, we were still dealing with a bunch of kids and soon enough, people started packing up and heading home. Steve and Bailey had driven in with Matt and Linda, and they had the farthest to go (and Griffen was the youngest kid), so they were the first to leave; but by 11pm, it was just us again. Even some of my kids had left since Barry and Corey always start Christmas morning at their mom’s house.

Once it was just us, I lit a few more candles, added a log to the fire, poured hot cocoa or eggnog for everyone, turned down the stereo, and the boys gathered ‘round as I read 'Twas the Night Before Christmas. When that was completed, I chased everyone off to bed, then followed to tuck them in.

When I got to Ryan’s room, Daniel had stripped off his pajamas and was sitting there, his white briefs contrasting sharply with his brown skin, examining his new watch, but he willingly put it aside and rolled into bed when I told him to. As I tucked the covers up around him, I suggested he put the pajamas back on when he awoke the next morning, since my mom would be there early.

Daniel had watched closely as I tucked Ryan in the last couple of nights. Once I had the sheets under his chin, I hesitated a second, but then he raised his arms. I hugged him tightly for a long moment, then tucked the sheets back around his shoulders, and placed a light kiss on his forehead. My last view, before flipping off the light was his smile.



With Bryce seven and the twins only eight, my mom could not get there early enough. As soon as all the kids were tucked in, Chris, Aaron, and I had cleaned up the cookies and milk left for Santa while retrieving all the carefully hidden gifts, laying everything out, and filling the stockings. Then I’d turned in, but was back up at barely more than six in the morning, wishing that I’d never given up caffeine. A quick check in the little guys’ room, then a shower, and back in bed awaiting that inevitable….

"Santa’s been here. Santa’s been here, everyone!" I couldn’t hear the footsteps on the carpet, but was only off by a couple of beats before my door came open and my bed shook under a flying tackle.

"Daddy!" I heard, as Bryce’s little hands shook me. "Santa’s been here, Daddy."

"Is it Christmas already?" I asked, pretending to still be half asleep.

"YES! Get up!" he nearly yelled, laughing at me.

I climbed to my feet and let him drag me into the living room, barely pausing long enough to let me put on my slippers.

As Bryce and I came to the living room, the other kids were giving evidence that they’d heard him. Everyone was oohing and aahing over their gifts, and I had to pry Tommy away to get Chris. Daniel came in a minute later than everyone else, buttoning his pajama top, not dallying, but not in quite as much of a hurry either. I was sure that was going to change quickly.

The Santa gifts were laid out around the living room, making a halo around the tree, where they were easy to find. All the kids were over there looking at theirs and showing them off when Ryan finally spotted Daniel, standing to the side, watching them, a rather bemused, slightly sad look on his face. I’d been about to say something but had really wanted one of the kids to do it, and Ryan didn’t let me down.

"Aren’t you going to come look at yours, Daniel?"

"Mine?"

"Yeah! It’s right here," he replied, pointing at the little case.

Curiously, Daniel walked over and picked it up. Then his eyes went wide. When he looked at me, I could see the tears standing in them. He started to say something, but I help my hands to my lips and pointed at the little kids. He got the hint, but mouthed ‘thank you’ silently.

Daniel spent the next few minutes appreciating the other boys’ gifts and showing off his new PSP with a case that held all the accessories as well as a game. He almost had to be pried away from that to dig into his stocking.

It wasn’t long before my dad showed up with Rose and Trent, and Mom and Ralph were only a few minutes behind them. By then, the house was filled with the smell of freshly baked sweet rolls, and all the boys were gorging themselves on those with milk and orange juice. Trent grabbed for one with both hands and the grandparents weren’t far behind.

The gift exchange was even more hectic Christmas morning. The guys not only had more stuff from the grandparents, but all their gifts from Dad as well. Daniel didn’t have quite as many packages as the other boys did, but I don’t think he had a single complaint about what was there. He also seemed to find a lot of joy in watching the younger kids and seeing how excited they got.

After that, the kids played for a while, and the rest of us just relaxed. I must have yelled at Mom and Rose three or four times that I’d clean the mess up later, before finally giving up. We were really just killing time until the next guests showed up. Corey and Barry would arrive about 9am, after opening gifts with Cathy and her family. Not long after that, Ralph’s daughter showed up with her family, and sometimes some of the extended family would make it, like Darren’s family. We waited until about 11am when Steve, Bailey, and Griffon arrived, then we start heating the leftovers for a lunch that was nearly as big as the previous night’s dinner.

After lunch, people started drifting away. Steve and Bailey had his mom and her parents to visit; I’d run Bobby to the bus station for the ride to visit his grandparents in Oklahoma; the twins were taken to the airport for a visit to their grandmother; Corey and Barry would take off again to go to their mom’s parents. Finally, it’d be just a few of us left. Where once I’d been left by myself (with the privacy to invite over a few friends for spanking games), now Ryan and Bryce were there, and had no relatives to visit. Nor did Daniel, and realizing that made me realize it was time to be honest with myself and with him.



"Hey Buddy, where are the other guys?"

"They went to play with some guy. Buster?"

"Didn’t they ask you to go?"

"Yeah. I wanted to play with my game. Can I take it with me, do you think?"

"I’m sure they’d let you have it, Daniel. What do you think of our home?"

"It’s kind of busy around here, isn’t it?"

"I’d like to say it’s not always like this, and it really isn’t; but it is always pretty crowded and busy. I guess that’s a lot for you since it’s been just you and your dad for so long."

"Yeah." He paused for a second. "I love my dad, but this really has been the best Christmas I’ve ever had. Usually I get a couple of gifts, then we go eat at Denny’s ‘before they get too busy.’"

"Well, having a bunch of people around can make things better sometimes."

"Like at the foster home?"

"Well, that’s one example, but I was thinking maybe you could stay here awhile longer instead?"

Daniel had been slumped a bit, but now he jerked upright. "Here?" Then he suddenly went cautious. "How much longer. Like until school starts?"

"Well, if you’re interested, I was thinking maybe until you finished college."



Daniel never did answer that question, but I took being knocked off the bed by a flying hug-tackle as answer enough.





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