"It's not the size of the tree, Eleanor. I'm shocked at you. This one's maybe a little short, but otherwise it's just right. It's full and green – and I quite like it." Caroline yanked her favored specimen from the row, twirled it. With some effort she examined the base and the tip, and congratulated herself on picking a winner. Her wife, however, seemed unconvinced.

"That's not what I was saying at all. I love this tree. As a – tree. On its own. In the wild. I'm sure it was lovely before it gave its life for our living room. I'm just wondering if it's a little too full. I like to see the ornaments and I think they'll all just get swallowed up in this fellow." Eleanor scowled as she stepped side to side around it.

"Well I can't stand the pointy bare ones. They're an odd color. I always get the bushy fir ones, they're much more homey, you know, cozy, and – "

"I don't care what you always do," Eleanor interrupted. "What you always do isn't what we always do, and that's the rub here, isn't it? Two bull-headed women trying to make our first Christmas together work?" She hooked Caroline's elbow and kissed her. "First Christmas as a household - don't skim that part."

"Who are you calling bull-headed?" Caroline placed two fingers at the crown of her head and charged Flora, who giggled and squealed.

The Dawson-Strathclyde family had been an hour at the tree lot already. Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree had played a staggering six times. Flora was a toddler popsicle in her puffy snowsuit, a purple star roving the aisles with hands in each of her Mum's. She hadn't melted down yet, simply because the twinkling lights on the makeshift fences were merry, and the scrappy inflatable reindeer reanimated her at the end of each row of trees. Eleanor had made a game of it, telling her that the decorations were brand new every time they emerged from the forest and came upon them, and the whole place was magical and worth the cold toes.

It had been the first event of the night to set Caroline off, just after they arrived. "I don't like to lie to her," she'd whispered to her wife at the cocoa stand after the game had begun. "It sets a bad precedent."

"Am I really lying to her? I mean – really?" Eleanor forked over almost twenty pounds for three cocoas and a tip. Caroline winced at the extravagance. She'd favored stopping at Costa on the way across town first, knowing that the lot would pillage their captive audience. That argument she'd also lost when profound sighs and great big eyes from both the girls in her car, who pleaded that it was part of the experience. They'd been right, all in all. Caroline was enjoying herself a lot more than she'd anticipated when she'd rushed out of the office, cursing at Beverley the whole time for not talking more sense into her.

Eleanor held on to Flora's hot cup for proper chilling as they sat on a frozen bench with her between them. The line at the cashier was intimidating, but the ranks of families wandering the rows of evergreens didn't seem to be growing. Caroline hadn't been to a lot in years, had established the expectations for John and the boys and sent them on their way. She'd forgotten how fun it was, how it set a mood for the season.

"All I've done is give her imagination a little spark," Eleanor whispered back at her, when they were settled.

"You're leading Flora astray," Caroline rebutted. "They're just representations, not real at all, and the fact is that they aren't different every time we see them."

"Yes they are."

"Can I have it now?" Flora peered from under her white fuzzy lined hood and reached up for her treat.

Eleanor removed the lid and took a test sip. She handed it over to Caroline, who took another sip, and handed it down. "Two hands please."

Flora clamped her mittens around the paper cup and tipped it all the way back. Smart mums had prepared and both had already compulsively checked the seal on the lid. It was half-way to frozen, anyway.

"Have you decided what you're getting Jane," Eleanor asked.

"I have not. Have you decided what you're getting Celia?"

"Touché. Shall we?" Eleanor took the offered empty from Flora, and away they went to seek their first joint Christmas tree.

Almost an hour later, no joy.

"Maybe we should come back this weekend, during the day, when it's light," Eleanor suggested.

"Day or night we're up against it, aren't we," Caroline admitted. "We've our own steadfast approaches to the holiday, and this tree is simply the first physical manifestation of that."

"Highly symbolic."

"Indeed. But your veteran administrator wife knows when to call it quits on a topic of debate. We're not going to solve anything at half eight on a Tuesday night. And Flora's seconds from supernova. Let's table and regroup."

"Agreed," replied Eleanor.

Caroline groaned and lifted glassy-eyed Flora into her car seat. She struggled and huffed with the straps over the bulky suit, nearing panic herself when her daughter began to fuss. She held up her hands and backed away slowly.

Eleanor leaned into the Jeep and began to mesmerize their little girl. "Now then, my little rough puff. Can I ask you for only a few seconds more indulgence?" She lowered and layered ever more honey into her voice, "I especially liked the cocoa tonight. I often prefer it a little richer, but this was still quite good, wasn't it? Not as good as your gorgeous Mum, makes, certainly, but you're a little young for rum, yet." Moving ever closer as she spoke, never looking away from Flora, hands working gently and deftly at the buckle, soon enough the job was done.

"Now I remember why I married you." Caroline grinned and shut the door after her snake charmer, waited for Eleanor to climb into the passenger seat, and closed the door after her.

"You married me for the scones, and I've no illusions about it. But I don't care because I love you," Eleanor said the minute they were all buckled in.

Caroline nodded, started the car and blasted the defroster, then leaned over to kiss Eleanor on the cheek. "It wasn't the toddler magic or the scones at all. It was entirely down to the garters and we're both liars if we don't admit it."

"Well I married you for your wine cellar. Scouts honor." Eleanor held up three fingers and they both laughed as Caroline pulled out of the lot and onto Wetherby and started home.

Home for now, anyway. This would be her last Christmas on Conway Drive. She never thought she'd be living there – or leaving there – with a toddler in tow. "We're too old for this by far, you know," Caroline said to no one, or perhaps to herself. "This one's a Christmas miracle all on her own." She looked back and smiled at Flora.

"You two are all the Christmas magic I need," Eleanor replied.

"Were those Santa's magic reindeer in the trees," Flora asked from the back.

Caroline glared at Eleanor.

Eleanor shrugged, turned her nose up. The car fell deathly silent, save Karen singing on about home and the holidays.

"No," was all Caroline replied.