Jordan doesn't dream about the bad man much. Not anymore. Daddy's friend chased him away. But he had to go away, too. She misses him sometimes, especially when she sees Mommy and Daddy looking sad
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They should be, of course, but Christmas brings a whole separate set of responsibilities for parents, if "Santa" is to deliver already-assembled gifts on time.
The sound of stealthy childish footsteps outside is warning enough.
After a hasty, near-silent discussion, Frank slips out into the hallway, leaving Catherine to continue wrapping things.
"I bet," Frank says, "that if Santa can fit all those gifts in his sleigh, he can put the extra carrots aside so that the reindeer don't eat too many at once."
He smiles down at the little girl by his side.
"Santa's magic that way. And I don't think I ever heard of magic people getting sick."
The sound of stealthy childish footsteps outside is warning enough.
After a hasty, near-silent discussion, Frank slips out into the hallway, leaving Catherine to continue wrapping things.
"Jordan?"
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Jordan has the feeling that did not work.
"Daddy? Were you sleeping?"
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"It is nighttime," Frank points out. "And as I distinctly remember putting you to bed some time ago, shouldn't you be sleeping?"
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Jordan is righteous. Benny whimpers again.
"And I'm thirsty."
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"Let's get you both back to bed, and I'll bring you a glass of water."
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And cookies?
Her eyes get really wide.
"Daddy! We forgot carrots for the reindeer!"
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With an inward wince and an apology to Catherine, Frank says,
"So we did. Why don't we go down and get you some milk, and you can put a few carrots on the plate by the cookies for Santa--"
Frank raises a finger, forestalling her reaction.
"-- but then it's right back to bed, Jordan. Okay?"
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She's not really wheedling.
But it's hard to sleep when Santa is coming!
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"Don't press your luck."
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She's trying hard not to bounce on her toes or take Daddy's hand and pull him to the kitchen.
"We should hurry, Daddy. Before Santa gets here."
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And before Catherine has to finish all the wrapping by herself.
"Go on, Benny." Frank moves automatically to lead the way downstairs, just in case.
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There's a thought.
"Santa doesn't get sick, does he?"
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He smiles down at the little girl by his side.
"Santa's magic that way. And I don't think I ever heard of magic people getting sick."
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Her eyes light up.
"Maybe she met Santa! I bet she did!"
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If Coyote's going to interest herself in his daughter's life, she should have to answer questions too.
"Not right now, though."
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Jordan is only six.
This is probably fortunate.
And it's probably fortunate for Frank that she's already started yawning.
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