Christmas for Daddy Chapter 12

Epilogue

After moving Hank's favorite plush bear so its fur wasn't right next to his nose, Booth leaned over his son's crib and gently kissed his forehead. The ceramic rooster was still clasped firmly in the little boy's fist.

"G'night, little man; sleep well," he whispered softly.

He checked the muted night light and exited the nursery, leaving the door ajar behind him. He smiled seeing his wife doing the same outside Christine's room.

"Our little Tiger is out like a light, Bones. Is our Monkey asleep yet?"

Brennan chuckled. "Booth, you make it sound as though we're running a zoo, rather than a family. Yes, Christine is sleeping soundly already. She dozed off halfway through The Going to Bed Book."

Descending the stairs together, her head on his shoulder, she continued, "The gifts you helped Hank choose for me were very special, Booth. Each is simultaneously practical and memorable. Those colorful spatulas are very useful and the cardinal calendar towel reminds me of my mom's favorite birds in our back yard. We used to watch the Northern cardinals together all winter. The males' plumage is so bright, she'd say they eased her off of watching Christmas lights around town, since they were taken down in January."

My father would remark that she was lucky they had expanded their common range into the northern states, being able to adapt to suburban human habitats like parks and back yards. Did you know that cardinals are rather unique among songbirds, in that both males and females sing? My mom would just shush Max, telling him we were at home, not in his science classroom."

Booth loved it when his Bones went into her lecture mode, and could well imagine her father doing the same. His beloved 'apple' didn't fall far from the tree. One of his biggest regrets, which he never voiced, was that he would never get the chance to know Christine Brennan. He imagined she was as remarkable a person as Max. The loving childhood they'd given their daughter had enabled her to survive horrid traumas after they drove out of town that fateful December day after McVicar reappeared.

Brennan watched his eyes as these thought flickered through Booth's head.

"I doubt that rooster shaker will ever contain any pepper, since Hank thinks it's his," she laughed.

Booth kissed her cheek and agreed. "It was a good thing Grams had two rooster salt and pepper sets. Right after we came to live with them, Jared claimed one pair as his own. Mom had a set they'd given her, and it reminded him of home. The kid carried those around the house with him for months. The only reason he didn't take them to school was that Pops knew he'd get teased unmercifully and suggested Jared let them keep Grams company during the day."

After pulling two Yuenglings out of the fridge, the pair settled on the couch side by side. Booth stretched out, resting his stockinged feet on the coffee table, and was surprised when his wife followed suit.

"You know, Booth, the calendar Christine made for you was supposed to be unique. When her Brownie leader first explained the project to the girls and asked for my help, Christine told me on the way home that she wanted it to be a special surprise for you, just from her. But then, I guess she decided to make something for me as well, and needed your help."

Remembering some unevenly-scribbled calendars he'd made for Grams years earlier, Booth gave his wife a crooked charm smile.

"If you could see the scraggly collection of hand-made presents I gave my grandparents, you'd laugh, Bones! Our teachers used to mimeograph blank calendar pages every year right after Thanksgiving, and we'd spend art periods for several weeks coloring those in for our families. Pops probably still had a box of them in his closet at Willow River. Grams and he never discarded any of our Christmas gifts like that."

"We decorated cigar boxes with macaroni and the teachers spray-painted them," Brennan told him. "My parents had a whole collection of those stacked on a bookshelf in our living room. One each year from me, and several from Russ. Used them for pencils, paper clips, recipe cards, and who knows what else," she remembered.

"I bet yours were a whole lot prettier than Russ's," Booth chuckled. "One year we made Christmas wreaths out of coat hangers bent into a circle and covered with strips of plastic tied around them. The girls in our class made sure they were fully covered. The boys' wreaths were rather skimpy by comparison… Like Charlie Brown's Christmas tree."

"And they were treasured just the same," Brennan assured him. "Just like the things Christine made for us. I wish I had a few of mine to show her," she said wistfully.

"I know, Bones. I'm sorry you don't," Booth told her. "Maybe the stories you can tell her about those boxes would mean just as much. We can both describe our childhood gifts to her…That way she'll realize we were once kids like her….What do you think?"

"That's an excellent idea," Brennan yawned. "Let's do it over breakfast tomorrow."

"Come on, my sleepy Bones. Let's get you tucked into bed, too."

Brennan nodded and headed for the stairs. Booth checked all the windows, doors, and security system, left a small light on in the kitchen and followed his wife up to bed.

"It's been a good Christmas," he thought to himself. "How lucky I am to have this family Bones has given me. So many years, I thought it would never happen, but it did. I'm a blessed and fortunate guy."

A/N: My post-Thanksgiving shopping trips and Christmas season of hosting family and guests from out of town were happy chaos but uncomfortably hectic, and my replies to readers' reviews, thanking y'all for your kind comments, went by the wayside over these past couple of months. I'm pleased you enjoyed the Christmas story I wrote for DukeFan1982, and relished all your thoughtful comments which enlivened my email inbox. May the New Year of 2018 bring every Fan Fiction reader and writer much happiness, great health, wishes fulfilled, and prosperity in every aspect of their lives. Here's to more stories and happy reading in the months to come. Some of you readers really ought to try your hand at writing. Your reviews are eloquent enough, no reason you can't conjure up very satisfying FF stories of your own!