“Daddy?”
“Sorry, sweetie.”
“Can we go to the shops?”
“Ugh. But I wanna stay in. Plus, we have to make some pepernoten and banketletter.” I’d actually nailed making the festive Dutch biscuits and the cake. “We need them for the party tomorrow.”
“Please.”
“What do you want at the shops? You’ll be getting a sh—, shed load of pressies soon.”
“Bad word again!”
“Almost!”
“That’s two almosts, Daddy. Fifty cents an almost.”
“What?” Foiled by her smarty-pants brain!
“Half a euro is fifty cents, Daddy.”
I hated that friggin’ swear box and all the hell it brought with it. Okay, fine, it was good to keep the cussing away from the daughter. She didn’t need her brain sullied with all those words. But then, she knew them well enough to know they were bad. Bloody hell, I’d even told myself off in front of her, driving home the point that I was naughty, and she shouldn’t listen to me. To make it worse, I’d come up with the swear box!
Foiled by my brain too!
“Oh, fu—, fudge.”
“Almost again!”
My potty mouth was a burden to my wallet. I’d tried conditioning myself against swearing, but no one ever said, “Oh, golly gosh! I stubbed my toe.” Well, they might, but not this someone.
“Okay, okay. Let’s come to an arrangement. I’ll take you out if you wipe my debt. I mean, they’re only almosts, Lou. Be fair now.”
She thought about it. The girl was going places. Her mind was a sponge for knowledge—particularly math and anything about space.
A pang of hurt went through me.
What would the future hold for her? It was terrifying to think of what was to come. I never wanted her to leave this house, to always be sheltered from the world.
“Hmmm,” she considered.
“Come on, it’s a great deal. And we can go to any shop you want. You may even get an early Christmas pressie.”
She shook her head. “Don’t want presents. Want to go out.”
“You want to go to the shops to look around?”
“Yeah. It’s a lovely day.”
“Then we can go for a walk.”
She tilted her little head. “But, I like the windows.”
“The Christmas windows?”
“Yep.” She slid off my lap and did a twirl. “So magical. Like here, Daddy. Like here.”
With a skip, she went over to stare at the tree. She did that, a lot.
The fresh air would be good. Man, was it fresh out there! “Okay. Let’s go. Let’s get you ready. But not for long. We’ve got food to make. Can’t have a party without grub.”
“Yay!” She twirled again.
“Mind the tree!” Hey! I didn’t punctuate that with an expletive.
Score for me!
We made our way down to Spui, Lou’s blue-gloved hand never leaving mine. It was so pretty in the square. I loved it. No matter what season it was, I liked to come and sit with some lunch just watching the city go by. There was something magical about this little place. Even when it was busy, it didn’t lose its appeal.
“Look!” Lou pointed at a book shop.
“Wow. That’s wicked.”
It was some awesomely inventive decorating. Along with the displays of Christmas books, there were some resin eggs, made with lots of glitter and sparkle. The tops were cracked, red poinsettia poking out of the opening. They all sat on a bed of fake snow; mini pine woodland dotted on the sloping landscape.
“There’s Santa,” Lou proclaimed.
Yep, there he was, on his sleigh, dashing through the fake snow. The Rudolph figurine had a flashing red nose.
My daughter pointed this out too.
Amazingly, those eggs didn’t have a trace of Easter about them at all. They were proper Christmassy.
Note to self. Must steal the idea for next year.
“Shall we go in? Maybe get a book?”
She didn’t take her eyes off the display. “If you want, Daddy.”
I fancied a new fantasy novel. I loved a good old epic read to whisk me away to faraway places with dragons, politics, and warrior queens.
Plus, I was freezing my nuts off and needed a hit of some central heating.
Inside, I took Lou’s gloves off, and we went to the kid’s section first. She headed straight to the non-fiction area, browsing some space books. I took a pew on a round, yellow seat that looked like a donut.
“Oh, crap!” I yelped.
Stupid thing sucked me inward, my backside going all the way to the floor. My spear got itself stuck into the material, locking me down. My legs were in the air, knees above my head. The poxy seat held my hips in its squishy confines. This blob was a trap for knob head adults like me! I only ever got into this position for a shag.
I frowned at myself for blushing at my own words. No one heard them, no one was privy to my sexcapades and would say, ‘Oh, there he goes again with his legs up in the air! Is that his favorite position or something?’
I worried about my brain sometimes.
“Er, Lou. Fancy giving Daddy a hand?”
No answer.
“Lou?”
A man’s face loomed over me. “Are you okay?”
Do I bloody look okay? “Been better.” I knew my face was a nice shade of scarlet, but I still offered him a cool grin.
“Here.” He offered me his hand.
I took it so bloody willingly. He helped me to my feet. “Thanks.” I pulled the spear free from where it’d skewered the chair and re-attached it to my back.
“Looks excessive,” I added, “but it’s the only weapon I can handle.”
“No need to explain,” the man replied cheerfully. He had an American accent.
Lou was engrossed in a book a few feet away. Nice to see she was so quick to come to my rescue.
My rescuer was shorter than me, with a tangle of brown hair, glasses over brown eyes, and a slight paunch beneath his green parka coat. His sun-kissed face was a beacon of perpetual calm as if nothing bad ever contorted
