An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Dimension 20 (Web Series), Cloudward Ho - Fandom
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Maxwell Gotch & Freyja Ildisdottir, Vanellope "Van" Chapman & Maxwell Gotch, Bert Chapman & Maxwell Gotch, Bert Chapman/Vanellope "Van" Chapman
Characters: Maxwell Gotch, Vanellope "Van" Chapman, Bert Chapman (Dimension 20), Freyja Ildisdottir
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Urban Fantasy, Like yeah they have cell phones but also Torse is still a robot and Courtney is still a dinosaur, yknow, Neither of those two show up, Repressed Maxwell Gotch, Autistic Maxwell Gotch, Because I am incapable of writing him as neurotypical, Ballroom Dancing, Dad Van, Dad Bert, Van and Bert adopt Maxwell
Series: Part 1 of I hope you dance under the rain the storm cloud brings
Summary:
Maxwell joked about it during one of his weekly phone calls to Van, “Dancing is kinda like boxing, except I'm supposed to telegraph everything”. A year later he’d make a similar comment to her, “Leading is all about communicating to your follow what you’re going to be doing next”.
Van asked, “So each choreographed segment has a specific start to it?”
She heard the frown over the phone. “No… okay yes, but not quite."
---
Van nodded, “Ah, so communicating is good technique”.
“You’ve always enjoyed learning and implementing technique. I’d always see you the days after Vanellope taught you something new, or fixed something, you would practice it over and over to make sure you got it into your muscle memory,” Bert smiled.
He loved to see Maxwell so determined. He was so closed off when they first met him. Maxwell Gotch was the most “put-together” 14 year old Bert had ever seen, knocking on the front door of Van’s boxing gym asking if he could work there.
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Words: 1.2k // a little Dad Van blurb for anon 💗 xxx
Dad Van Masterlist Blurbs/Headcanons Masterlist
You were surprised to see Van lingering hesitantly in the doorway of your hospital room, your three year old daughter perched on his hip. You thought he'd be bounding in with his usual exuberant excitement when he got back from picking her up from her grandparents, but instead he actually looks nervous, hanging back like he's bracing himself to step into a life-changing moment, your little family of three now increased to four.
Earlier that morning you'd both welcomed your baby son into the world, ten exhausting and excruciating hours of labour paling into hazy insignificance as soon as the midwife had placed him into your arms. You'd wondered during pregnancy whether it might feel different this time, whether the magic and awe-like wonder you'd felt on giving birth might be dulled a second time around, but it wasn't to be. As you'd watched Van blinking back tears as he cut the cord with shaky hands, whispering that you were the love of his life and he was the happiest man on the planet, you were overcome with an all-consuming rush of happiness and contentment that was just as strong as the day Grace was born.. maybe even more so now your little family was finally complete.
"Are ya ready Gracie?" He murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to her unruly curls. She fidgets impatiently in his arms, craning her neck to peer inside, keen to see you and meet the new arrival.
"Is mummy here? Is the baby here? Are they both okay?"
"Yeah darlin', mummy's here and she's doing great... in fact she's a superstar... and the little man's definitely here... he made quite the entrance!"
"I'm right here, sweetheart," you call from the bed, your heart bursting with joy as you shift to prop yourself more upright on the pillows, your precious little bundle swaddled in your arms. "Come on, come and meet your brother."
"Mummy!" She calls out, wriggling down out of her dad's arms and dashing over to clamber on to the bed. "Is that him? What's he like? I wanna see!"
Her eyes are wide as she pushes up on to her knees and grips the edge of the blanket to draw it back, gasping softly as she sees a pair of big blue eyes blinking up at her, two tiny pink lips as soft and pink as rose petals.
"Aww he's so tiny and cute... just like one of my dolls," she whispers, a breathy giggle escaping as a small fist escapes the blanket, little fingers grasping at the air.
"I think he's waving at you," chuckles Van, crossing over to sit down on the bed.
Grace leans closer, her mouth forming a little 'o' as she watches him intently, absolutely fascinated. "Can I... touch him?" She asks, looking up at you for reassurance.
"Of course you can love... gentle hands now remember."
But you needn't fret. Your usually boisterous little girl's uncharacteristically gentle now, her movements careful and deliberate as she slowly extends her pinky finger, pressing it into his palm. His fingers instantly curl around hers.
Van makes a choked up kind of noise, voice cracking with emotion. "Did you see that? He's got you Gracie. He's not letting go!"
"That's 'cause he knows you're his big sister," you say, your throat tight. "So what do you think of him love?"
"Ummm.... I think we should keep him," she announces after a thoughtful pause. You and Van exchange glances, laughing quietly. Your heart swells with contentment, this perfect moment etched in your memory forever.
"I think we just might," Van smiles, dipping down to press a gentle kiss to the top of his son's head, gentle fingers combing through the downy wisps of hair sprouting there.
"What are we gonna call him?" Grace pipes up. "Does he have a name yet?"
You glance across at Van, a smile curving your lips. "Well, we've been talking about names, and there's one that's kinda stuck..."
Van grins wide, chuckling as he shakes his head, the silly conversations you've previously had about naming your son suddenly becoming a very real possibility. "Really? We're going with that one?"
"You said you loved it!" You laugh back.
Grace bounces up on to her knees once again, tugging on the sleeve of Van's sweater, full of impatience. "What is it? What is it? I wanna know!"
"It's... Leo," he says, with more than a little pride.
Grace lets out a delighted giggle. "Leo... just like you're a Leo daddy!"
"Just like me," Van grins. "And you too remember? You were born in August just like I was."
Grace's smile suddenly fades to be placed by a look of confusion, a tiny frown forming as she mulls this information over. "But... it's not August now... it's not even summer... and mummy said she didn't want another Leo in the house..."
You burst into laughter, wincing at the lingering ache low down in your body as you shift where you sit. "I did say that, didn't I?"
Van folds his arms across his chest, smirking at you playfully. "Yeah, so you did. I think your actual words were 'two of you's more than enough'."
Grace looks between you both, still confused but delighted nevertheless. "So now there's three Leos?"
"I'm afraid so," you sigh dramatically.
"You're completely outnumbered now love."
Van nudges you gently, winking at Grace as she giggles and fidgets restlessly where she sits. You can tell she's getting antsy now, itching to hold her baby brother, wanting to get fully involved.
You gently move Leo in her direction. "Would you like to sit with Daddy and hold him for a minute?"
She nods her head so vigorously you're afraid it might roll off.
"Come on Gracie, come sit here love," Van says, gently lifting Leo from your arms and settling into the chair beside the bed. "I bet he can't wait for big sister cuddles."
You'd be lying if you said worries hadn't flitted through your mind about this very moment. For three entire years Grace had your and Van's attention solely to herself. She was your entire world and you fretted whether bringing another child into the family might upset the family dynamics, whether a touch of jealously might creep in.
You watch on as she climbs enthusiastically on to Van's lap, your heart swelling as he carefully positions Leo in her outstretched arms, his large hands curled protectively around them both for support.
"There ya go darlin'," he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. "Look at you... you're a natural just like your mum."
You smile tiredly from the bed, watching your beautiful headstrong little girl smile down on her baby brother with a love so pure it melts your heart, the way Van holds them both so tenderly like they're the most precious things in the world.
"Mummy," she whispers quietly, eyes brimming with wonder and affection. "I think I love him."
And just like that, any worries that you had about upsetting the perfect harmony of your little family dissolve in an instant.
Van presses a soft kiss, first to the top of Grace's head and then to Leo's forehead before looking over at you, glossy eyes mirroring your own.
No warnings just fluff for my Valentine’s countdown // Feeding your baby daughter for the first time 💗
Dad Van Masterlist Main Masterlist
You'd never understood the concept of crying tears of happiness until now. Sweat-soaked and exhausted, your voice hoarse and dry and your muscles strained and weary, you gently cradled the precious and wondrously beautiful new life that was your baby daughter and you sobbed as you watched her through glassy eyes full of tears.
"She's perfect babe, just perfect. I can't believe it. You did so good... I can't believe that she's ours..."
Van's voice is tight and shaky as he loses the fight to hold back his own tears, wiping them away with the cuff of his shirt sleeve as they track down his cheeks. You wrench your eyes away from your perfect little miracle to look up at him, so much love flowing between you at that moment as you soak up the realisation that you're parents now, no longer just a couple but a family.
"She's beautiful Van. Just look at her. Look at her little nose... and lips... and fingers. Everything's so tiny! I think she has your features, she definitely has your eyes. I think she looks like you already."
You both look down again at the little bundle, all swaddled up in a blanket, big expressive eyes wide open and gazing up at you and it hits you then. This is just the beginning.
You'd thought the birth was the hard part but the visceral pain of labour had already started to dull the moment the midwife had checked over and weighed your daughter and placed her in your arms. The hard parts are up ahead, the sleepless nights and the new-mum worries, the realisation that not only have you both created a little human being but now you have to take care of her for the rest of your lives overwhelming you.
"Nah, she's too beautiful to look like me, she's gorgeous, just like her mummy. I'm so proud of you Y/N, you were amazing. I'm in absolute awe of you love."
His eyes glow with adoration as he looks between you both, slipping an arm around your shoulder as he snuggles in even closer to you on the hospital bed.
"I couldn't have done it without you," you tell him, resting your head his shoulder. "I love you."
"I love you too... so much," he mumbles into your hair, planting a soft kiss there before he turns his attention back to his little girl, leaning right over her, a fingertip gently running over the apple of her rosy cheek. "Hey there baby girl, I've been waiting so long to meet you... and here you are, more beautiful than I ever could've imagined."
She makes a soft gurgling cooing noise, stretching out a tiny arm, her hand coming to rest on Van's finger. He lets out a delighted chuckle as her small but perfectly formed fingers wrap around his fingertip.
"Look at that! Look at that Y/N! Hey sweetheart, I'm your daddy. I love you so much, me and your mummy love you more than anything. You wouldn't believe."
His voice cracks again as he fights back a fresh round of tears, fascinated and awed by this new life that you've both been blessed with. She blinks up at Van through her long lashes, squirming in your arms, turning her head towards his finger, tiny lips seeking as a small whimper arises.
"I think maybe she's hungry already," you observe. "She definitely takes after you! Are you hungry my little one?"
You shift on the bed, drawing down your nightdress and unclipping your maternity bra, uncertainty taking over as you awkwardly try to manoeuvre your daughter into the position you'd been shown in your ante-natal sessions.
"Are you okay? What can I do? Do ya want a pillow? Here... have one to prop up your arm," Van offers, fussing around you, concern in his eyes as he takes in your worried expression. "Can ya manage? Are ya comfy like that? Shall I get the midwife back?"
"No, no... just let me try," you insist. "It can't be that hard."
Surely it should be the most natural thing in the world? The female human body is literally designed to birth a child and feed and nurture it, but even so your head is full of countless stories you've read on baby blogs online about breast-feeding struggles. Your little girl latches on hungrily but then quickly pulls away, her whimpers growing stronger, her small fingers pawing at your skin.
"Shit... this is harder than it looks," you curse nervously, gathering your baby up in your arms to try switching sides, groans of frustration bursting from you as you struggle to get your positioning right. "Something's wrong, I'm not doing it right. I just can't seem to get it right!"
Your eyes flick up to meet Van's anxious expression but then quickly back down, not wanting him to see the hot tears that are brimming in your eyes. Tears of tiredness and worry and frustration this time.
"You're doing great babe, really... you are. We could just give her a bottle though... just this once... I'm sure it'd be fine..."
"No!" You cut him off bluntly, your voice coming sharper and with more force that you intend. His eyes widen and his face creases and you soften then, quickly checking yourself. "I didn't mean to snap," you explain. "You know I want to do this myself, it's really important to me. I just need a bit of time to get it right... that's all."
"Okay... okay... I just want to do as much as I can. I'm sure you'll be feeding her like a pro in no time though! You can do anything that you set your mind to... you'll see... you always do."
Van grins a warm encouragement, one hand gently stroking at the downy hair on your baby's head, the other smoothing down over your back. You both watch as her tiny lips latch on again, a surprisingly strong suction this time that makes you gasp. You look up at Van, a huge smile of triumph breaking out.
"She's doing it... she's actually doing it!" You whisper, excitedly but quietly lest you break the spell. Van looks back at you with pride and reverence in his eyes, shaking his head slightly like he still can't quite believe that the last tough ten hours of labour since you arrived at the hospital have just taken place.
He leans even closer, peering in wonder as he takes in the scene. "Just look at you both like that... look at her go! She's proper guzzling! S'fuckin' amazing innit?"
"Shh... no swearing, remember?" You gently scold him with a smirk. "Don't want her growing up foul-mouthed like her Daddy!" You're only joking and he knows it, breathing a quiet 'sorry love' in between a whispered laugh.
You're both silent then for a long moment, you leaning into Van's warm embrace, your daughter contentedly suckling at your body's wonderful nourishment, a picture perfect scene that you know will be imprinted in your memories forever.
"How's it feel anyway?" Van breaks the silence eventually, folding the neckline of your nightdress carefully back where it's fallen over your daughter's face.
"It's just... weird... feels weird... kinda strange..." You pause, searching for the right words, quickly adding "in a good way though... a really good way. It feels bloody amazing actually. I can't believe I'm actually doing it. I'm actually feeding our baby Van... our daughter... our little girl. Can you believe it?"
You break off into a delighted giggle, only distracted when the sensation of your baby suckling changes, looking down to see her tiny jaw slacken as her lips purse and pucker as she pulls away. A small trickle of milk pools in the corner of her mouth which you quickly wipe away with a muslin cloth.
"Oh my god look at her!" You laugh, watching her eyelids fluttering as she blinks up at you sleepily, looking almost dazed. "That's the exact same look you get when you've had too much to drink!"
"Milk-drunk!" Van sniggers, lifting his arm away from your shoulder as he shifts on the bed. "Must be good stuff! Not surprising really... considering where it's come from!"
You laugh, nudging him with your elbow lightly, then you set about propping your baby up on your lap, gently rubbing soothing circles on her back which elicits a tiny burp, smiling to yourself that you've already overcome such an important first milestone of motherhood.
You're so caught up on making gooey eyes at your daughter that you don't realise what Van's doing, but detecting movement out the corner of your eye prompts you to look around. To your surprise and puzzlement, Van's sitting there propped up against the headboard of the hospital bed unbuttoning his shirt. The first four buttons are already undone and he's starting on the fifth when you speak, stilling him momentarily.
"What on earth are you doing?"
"It's my turn now, c'mon pass her over," he smiles, popping open the last button and holding out his arms, his shirt falling open to reveal his bare chest.
You just stare at him, completely befuddled, wondering whether maybe he's been sneakily siphoning off some of the gas and air whilst your back's been turned. "C'mon," he urges. "Ya can't keep her all to yourself! I'm desperate to hold her!"
"Sure... sure..." you mumble, gathering up your precious little bundle and getting gingerly to your feet, wincing slightly as you shuffle over to Van. You stop, hovering over him whilst he looks at you expectantly, bursting with eagerness. "What's with stripping off though? I'm not being funny, but you haven't exactly got... the right equipment!"
He grins, shaking his head. "Course not love, but I'm just thinking about what the midwife said... you know, in the ante-natal classes. About how dads could get involved? Skin to skin or summat... s'posed to be a good way to bond."
"Oh... so you were listening then?" You tease good-naturedly, recalling all the daft jokes Van used to relentlessly crack during the sessions, no doubt a cover for the nervousness he'd never admit at the prospect of becoming a dad.
You can see it now, the slight tremble in his hands as you place your baby carefully in his outstretched arms, the gentle way he supports her head and tiny body like she's made of the finest china and he's frightened that she might break.
"Oh wow, she's so tiny... she's as light as a feather. And so, so beautiful... just perfect. How did we create something so perfect, eh?"
You hear him suck in a shaky breath which he blows out quickly, leaning back against the headboard and bringing his daughter closer to his body. He lifts her carefully and positions her so she's pressed flush to his chest, then he begins to untuck the blanket that's swaddled around her, delicately pulling it free.
"Look at you... all wrapped up like a little burrito!" He chuckles. "C'mon sweetheart, come and lie on daddy. Gonna take good care of you... you and your mum. I love you both so much."
He dips his head down to plant a small kiss on your baby's head and she makes a contented cooing sound, nuzzling into his bare chest. He's cradling her with one hand, the other stroking soft, soothing circles on her back. You feel your heart swell with emotion watching the two of them together, your precious little girl so serene and comforted, the way Van looks down at her so dotingly and protective.
"Thank you Y/N," he murmurs, voice a little choked as he looks up, meeting your eyes which again are brimming with tears of emotion, his own looking glossy too.
"For what?"
He smiles, warm and genuine. "For making me so happy. Don't think I've ever felt this happy before... ever."
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summary | making pancakes at 2:30 is a great idea, which leads to scrabble and an important announcement. short, but sweet.
warnings | none, other than swearing.
a/n | this is only about 350 words, but i thought it was too cute not to post. i love this idea honestly. i also wrote this in about ten minutes while listening to like real people do on repeat, god i love hozier. here’s a link to the song if you wanna listen to it x.
The floor was cold against my feet, tiptoeing quietly into the kitchen. It was only 2:15, but I was wide awake and hungry as hell. I didn’t know exactly what I wanted, but I knew I wanted something sweet. I pulled out a bag of chocolate chips and pancake mix, knowing my sweet cravings would soon be over.
I made enough pancakes for the both of us, Van still asleep in bed. I brought in a tray with two plates of chocolate chip pancakes and banana slices on top, with two cups of coffee. I set it down on the nightstand I had, getting back into bed, slipping in next to Van. I woke him up by tracing over his eyebrows and nose. “Babe? What time is it? Why’re you up already?”
“It’s 2:30, but I was hungry. Made us pancakes and coffee.” I handed him his plate, followed by his cup. He chuckled, grabbing it from my hands. We sat in silence and ate our breakfast, Van kissing my cheek after every bite.
“So so good. Loved it babe, it was delicious. The banana really made it all come together.” I laughed at what he said, taking a sip of coffee afterwards. I grabbed our plates and cups, bringing them into the kitchen. I put them in the sink before jogging back to bed. “Now that we’re dead awake, what do you want to do?”
“We should play Scrabble.” And so we did. I ended up winning, which resulted in Van declaring I cheated, and that we needed to play again. I used all the letters I had to put a message onto the board while Van went to the bathroom. He came back, sitting down on the bed, looking at the board. My hands became sweaty, looking into his eyes which began to fill with tears.
“You’re playing with me,” he replied. “Are you? I’m gonna be a dad?” I nodded, my eyes beginning to fill up with tears as well. “Holy shit! I’m gonna be a dad!”
Santa's grotto looks like something straight from a fairytale storybook. The entry-way is flanked by two enormous candy canes and when we all step through it's a full on festive assault on the senses with sparkling fairy lights and shiny baubles glittering on fake snow-laden branches all around. Bing Crosby croons White Christmas loudly through the speakers and we're greeted by two 'elves', one of whom looks like he'd rather be anywhere else but here, welcoming families whilst wearing an unflattering garish green costume which is topped off with the most ridiculously tall pointy hat. A gold bell on the top jingles whenever he moves. His name badge reads "Buddy".
I catch Van's eye and nod towards Buddy, trying to keep a straight face. "You know if you fancied trying a more festive-themed disguise instead of the cap and shades, you'd look great in that outfit."
"Ahh, but green's not really my colour," he chuckles under his breath, then he has to bite back a snort when his gaze travels downwards to the elf's pointy shoes and candy-striped leggings.
Buddy shoots him a thinly veiled dirty look, prompting the other elf, a jolly looking middle-aged lady who introduces herself as Holly to elbow her colleague discreetly in the ribs. He immediately forces a smile, beckoning us all in to the grotto and informing us that Santa can't wait to meet us and hear our Christmas wishes. I feel Grace squeeze my hand and I glance down to find her looking up at me with excitement.
"Errr... why are there so many doors?" Leo wonders out loud, eyebrows furrowed as he peers down the short corridor. "There's only one Santa isn't there?"
I count six doors, all identical with a huge ornate brass knocker on each surrounded by a holly wreath. The male elf actually rolls his eyes and I have to stifle a laugh. He's definitely drawn the short straw being stationed here instead of working on the till. Luckily Holly is quick to answer, obviously used to curious questioning from inquisitive children.
"Well of course there's only one Santa... but he's very busy this time of year as you can imagine! He uses a special kind of Christmas magic to be in more than one place at once."
Leo looks at her quizzically and I can almost hear the little cogs turning in his brain. I'm just about to cut in with an explanation but Buddy beats me to it, blurting out with exasperation "How else d'ya think all those presents get delivered all over the world in just one night, eh?"
His tone's a touch on the sharp side which earns him another surreptitious elbow and Van and I exchange glances, sniggering quietly. The kids don't seem to notice, satisfied with the answer, looking at each other and nodding like it should have been so obvious.
"Can we go in yet?" Grace pleads, so we all step forward, Van and Leo heading for one door and Grace and I heading for the one situated next door. I pause at the door, looking across at Van, catching his eye once more, the warm grin he gives me making my stomach flip and my cheeks warm yet again. Damn... I really need to get my over-reaction to his every little action under some sort of control.
Santa doesn't disappoint. He looks like the real deal, like they've just shipped him in straight from the North Pole with his fluffy white beard, rosy cheeks and wire-framed glasses perched on the end of his nose.
"Come on in, come and sit down," he beckons us both forward, beaming at Grace. "And what's your name young lady?"
Grace tells him quickly, her voice unusually small, then she's tugging my hand to lead me over to a low bench that's shaped like a giant present beside Santa.
"Grace... that's a beautiful name... and who's this? Mummy?" His eyes flick across to me. "Has she been a good girl this year mum?"
"Oh," I stumble, caught off guard as I shake my head. "No, no, I'm not her mum... I'm her... errr... teacher!"
I let out a small giggle, like I can't quite believe that I'm here, and in truth I do feel a little like an imposter. Despite Grace's pleas and Van's assurances this whole trip feels surreal but of course Santa's unfazed. I quickly recover, instinctively slipping straight into teacher-mode.
"But I can definitely tell you without a doubt that she's been very good this year," I smile down on Grace, loving the grateful look of relief that she's giving me. "She's always so caring and thoughtful, and always willing to help out in class... a proper little star."
Grace's smile widens and she sits up poker-straight. "I've been trying so hard. I've even stopped teasing my little brother Leo so much... even though he's really annoying."
Santa chuckles heartily at that, slapping his knee. "Well that's good to hear, you keep that up and I'm sure my elves will be reporting only good things back to me!" He pauses, eyes glinting as he sits forward. "And that brings me to my next question... say... have you given any thought to what you might like for Christmas this year? Seeing as you've been so good..."
Grace suddenly looks very serious, her fingers twisting nervously where she has them clasped in her lap. She glances up at me for reassurance and I nod, urging her on. My curiosity's piqued and I'm even more eager to hear than Santa is.
"We-ll..." she begins, stretching out the word. "I love my daddy. He's kind and funny and he always gives really good hugs, and he's famous! He's a rockstar and he sings and plays guitar... loads of people love him... but I'm his biggest fan!"
"Is that so?" Santa eyes me, eyebrows raised as if to confirm this information and I nod, smiling to myself. Hearing Grace talk about her love for her dad makes my heart swell for them both. It's so pure and wholesome. She continues, eyes wide and expression earnest, her voice hesitant but precise like this is her big moment and she's terrified of messing it up.
"Last Christmas I made a wish and it didn't come true... I asked for mummy and daddy to love each other again... but it didn't work and mummy has a new boyfriend now..."
Santa shifts uncomfortably on his Christmas throne, casting me an awkward glance as if to say "I didn't sign up for this... help'". I just give him a little shrug and an assuring smile even though I'm suddenly filled with unease, wondering what impossible wish she might have come up with this year. The thought of this little girl's heart breaking all over again makes my own ache.
I brush a hand gently over her back, a comfort and an encouragement. "Remember what we spoke about at school Grace..."
"It's okay Miss," she looks up at me with a sad little smile. "Like I said I know they're not getting back together now, that's why it's a different wish altogether this year..."
Santa's still smiling but there's a look of mild panic in his eyes as he looks between me and Grace. It's obvious he's imploring me to step in and divert the conversation to safer waters but I can't bring myself to stop her now. My curiosity's in overdrive and even though I know I shouldn't be so involved I'm full on invested in hearing Grace's wish and, much as I know I shouldn't be from just this brief chance encounter, I'm also invested in the man that's sat in the room next door to us right now.
"The thing is Santa..." Grace lowers her tone and leans forward, eager to confide. "My daddy always pretends to be happy around us. He's always smiling and telling us jokes and making up silly games like always, but sometimes, when he thinks me and Leo aren't watching, he looks really sad and tired..."
Ohhh...
My chest goes tight and I have to hold myself back from reacting too obviously. Santa's still flustered but even he's drawn in now, leaning forward to hear the rest of the story. Grace sighs, deep and weary, but then her lips quirk up at the edges and her eyes brighten, like she's picturing something in her head that amuses her.
"Daddy's the happiest when he's in love. He smiles all big, just like this..." she pauses to stretch her mouth into the widest, gap-toothed grin. "He writes happy songs and he's always singing them round the house, even when he's making breakfast or tidying up, it's like he can't help it... oh, and he dances in the kitchen too!"
She giggles out loud but then her grin fades and she looks up at Santa with eyes full of hope. "So I know mummy and daddy aren't going to fall in love again, but I want to see him happy again... properly happy just like he used to be."
My throat tightens and I exchange a look with Santa who's gone noticeably pale even under the made up rosy cheeks. My brain's scrambling for something to say but before I can even formulate the words, Grace drops her final line.
"So my wish this year... is for daddy to fall in love again... in time for Christmas."
My heart does a funny little stutter and I suddenly feel hot, a blush creeping up my neck and tinging my cheeks as Grace's eyes find mine and lock on.
Why is she looking at me like that?
"Oh... errr... that's a lovely thing to wish for," I say quietly, willing the heat to subside.
"Very thoughtful," Santa chips in. "But I'm not sure if we have Cupid hiding amongst our elves!"
He lets out a hearty laugh which gets cut short when Grace doesn't join in. He clears his throat quickly and pushes his glasses up his nose, swiftly getting back into character. "Well I'm sure the magic of Christmas is already hard at work to fulfil your wish, but is there anything else you might like? Something that would fit nicely under your tree at home perhaps?"
And just like a switch has been flicked Grace instantly brightens, the weight that's been pressing down on her offloaded at long last. "A puppy!" She announces, bouncing up out of her seat and clapping her hands together. "A small, fluffy one with floppy ears. I can look after it and play with it and take it for long walks..."
She launches into an animated spiel about her dream pet, her enthusiasm filling the room and ringing light and playful in my ears. I note the happy relief on Santa's face as he holds out a hessian sack, urging her to take a small token gift. I'm looking on and smiling but my mind is elsewhere, totally running wild, turning the words of her wish over and over in my head... and thinking and wondering... what if?
What if he did fall in love... and it was with me?
🤍 Van's POV 🤍
Leo bursts out of the room ahead of me, towing me along by the hand, buzzing with excitement.
"Did you see him? Did you see his face? When I said what I wanted he knew didn't he? He already knew!"
I laugh, tugging him gently to a standstill. "A PlayStation 5, yeah? The elves must've been listening in to all those conversations we've had when you said you were gonna thrash me at FIFA when we got a new console!"
"And I'm gonna!" He taunts, dodging skilfully when I make a playful swipe to ruffle up his hair.
"Ahh... not a chance... even though you'll be learning from the best!"
There's no sign of Grace and Sacha yet so we linger in the grotto entryway. I'm feeling contentedly smug, the fact I've already got the latest PlayStation console stashed away at home for Leo, an impulse buy last month when he told me Alex had just bought the latest Nintendo Switch. It makes a change for me to be one step ahead, usually Christmas present buying is a rushed affair which sees me panic-buying all my gifts online a few days ahead of the big day. Helen always said I didn't put much thought into my choices, but back then I just thought that throwing a large amount of money at my kids would compensate for the fact that I'd missed the Christmas play at school. Things were going to be different from now on though. I was determined.
A tinkling giggle sounds out and I turn just in time to see Grace and Sacha emerge from the grotto, both smiling wide, Grace's hand still firmly in Sacha's. That's the first thing I notice. The second is the colour in Sacha's cheeks.
She's flushed, all rosy and pink, like she's just stepped in from the cold or been laughing too hard... or maybe something else... like feeling a little shy around a certain person who gets her mind and her heart racing perhaps...
My stomach does a strange little flip before I can even get my thoughts into order but I tell myself it’s just wishful thinking. She's probably just feeling awkward at being dragged along on our family shopping trip. She might not have even wanted to come but she's way too polite to say no, or worried about letting the kids down if she declined. They sure were excited about her joining us.
Either way, that pretty flush looks good on her. Way too good. Fuck... she's actually gorgeous.
"Can we have a hot chocolate? Please daddy, please?"
Grace shoots over to me, tugging at my sleeve to get my attention. I raise an eyebrow at her, playfully skeptical.
"Hot chocolate? But I thought you said you had a belly ache back there in the school office?"
Grace doesn't hesitate a beat. "Well it's gone now!"
"Hmm... convenient," I mutter under my breath.
"Must be a Christmas miracle!" Laughs Sacha, then she bends down low so she's at the kids' level. "Wait till you taste the hot chocolate here... there's whipped cream and sprinkles and marshmallows... I'm not lying when I say it's the best I've ever had."
"Mmm... marshmallows are the best!" Leo rubs his belly and licks his lips.
"No!" Grace pipes up. "Sprinkles are miles better. They melt into the cream and make it go all chocolatey."
"But marshmallows are fluffy!" Leo shoots back.
"You mean you guys actually choose between them?" Sacha gasps in fake-horror, her hand flying up to her mouth. "I never ever choose, I just can't decide. I ask them to pile everything on top instead... the more the better!"
Grace's eyes widen in delight. "Everything?"
"Oh yes," says Sacha, lowering her voice dramatically like she's sharing a best-kept secret. "It's the only proper way to drink it, don't you know?"
Grace, Leo and Sacha immediately launch into a debate about which toppings should be added first and I grin to myself. Sacha's not just here as a reluctant tag-along like I thought earlier. It's glaringly obvious that she genuinely enjoys my children's company, and what's more she's having fun on our little trip. I watch them laughing and teasing each other as we make our way over to the drinks counter, making sure to hang back a little so I can fully enjoy the scene.
Once the drinks are ordered I decide to take advantage of the fact that the kids are still arguing over sprinkles and marshmallows, ushering Sacha a step away so we can talk without being overheard.
"So... about your little... undercover expedition," I chuckle quietly, leaning close enough that I catch the faint scent of her perfume. "Please tell me you found out what she wants for Christmas. I've been racking my brains for weeks."
She looks stunned, kinda rabbit in the headlights, her mouth falling open and shut a few times with nothing coming out. I'm just about to ask if she's okay but then she clears her throat and her expression softens. Whatever made her falter obviously passes, to be replaced by a warm smile.
"A puppy... a little fluffy one... and it's got to have floppy ears... she was quite specific about that."
She laughs and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, taking a small sip of her drink. A tiny drop of cream adorns her top lip which she coyly licks away.
Stop looking at her lips...
I wrench my gaze upwards. "A puppy! I should have guessed. She misses a pet around the house when she's staying at mine, in fact we both do."
Her brows raise in a silent question which I answer with a sigh. "Yet another thing Helen got in the divorce." I try to keep my voice light but I still hear the bitter edge to it. "The dog stayed with her, of course it did. Like most things."
She winces in sympathy. "Ouch, that's rough. I'm really sorry to hear that."
Now it's my turn to wince. I force a smile, silently cursing myself. "Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to dump that on you. You're here to shop, not listen to my problems."
She offers me a reassuring look but I keep talking, determined not to let the heaviness linger and taint the afternoon. "Well, if Grace wants a floppy-eared puppy, looks like I'll be taking a trip to the dog rescue centre next week. Let's just hope I can pick out one dog and not come home with a pack of 'em."
She giggles. "Oh it's gonna be hard to choose... all those adorable little fur-balls with their big puppy-dog eyes all wanting you to take them home. I don't envy you."
"You're a dog lover too?"
"I'm an animal lover," she replies with a grin. "And I do love dogs, for sure, but I'm actually a cat person. I've always had a cat for as long as I can remember."
I pull a face, I can't help it. It's not that I don't like cats, it's just that they don't tend to like me. "Errr... I'm allergic," I say quickly, hoping she doesn't think I'm some kind of feline-hating monster.
"Oh that's too bad," she tilts her head, taking another delicate sip. "It's bring a pet into school day next week. I was going to ask if you wanted to come along? Even if you’ve not bought the new puppy yet? But I suppose you'd be sneezing all over the place. There's going to be lots of cats. I'm bringing mine in too."
Wait... she actually wants to see me again?
"Oh I'm sure I'll be fine," I hastily reply. "What's it called? Like exposure therapy or something? Count me in."
Her face lights up. "Great... it's a date!"
There's a brief pause and then her eyes widen comically as she realises what she's said. "Oh! I didn't mean like an actual date... just like a school thing... oh god I'm sorry!"
I can't help it, I grin like it's the best thing I've heard all day. She looks bloody adorable, even pinker than before, all flustered and shy and flapping.
"It's okay, I know what you meant," I chuckle softly. I lift up my cup and knock it gently against the side of hers like we're sealing a deal. "I'll look forward to it whatever it is."
