Epilogue

Douglas

Christmas Morning 9 Years later

“Daddy, what do you have?” John, our youngest asked, staring at the gift I’d just opened.

It was from Santa and, while the children probably thought it looked like the oddest gift imaginable, I saw it for what it was…magic.

“Is that a carrot in your stocking?” Jase, our middle child, dropped the remote-control car he had just unwrapped and rushed over to look at my bounty more carefully. “Who gave you that? Is that like the vegan version of coal?”

Matti burst out laughing, her eyes never leaving the huge carrot, complete with greens, I was holding in my hands.

“Because Santa must think I was a very good reindeer this year.” I smiled, loving watching the confusion on their faces. Vegetables weren’t what anyone put high up on their wish lists. They didn’t know how special this one was.

They also didn’t know that this present wasn’t for me. Not really. I mean, sure, I was going to be the one to eat it, but this gift? Santa brought it for the kids. He knew they were at that age where suddenly the world expects you to let go of little kids’ things. It felt like that age kept getting younger and younger, too. I was not a fan.

Matti was starting to waver on whether Santa was real or not. It didn’t help that the kids at school adamantly told her he wasn’t. They filled her with stories about how their parents bought the gifts and that even if there were a Santa, it would be impossible for him to go around the world in one night. And if they were talking about using human means of travel, that was true. But Santa used Christmas magic, and that didn’t fall under the constraints of science and facts.

Her two brothers, John and Jase weren’t far behind her in that questioning of belief, either.

My mates and I told them all about how we met—how it was Santa who helped us find our true mates—how he made our happily ever after come to life. But as time went on, Matti began to think of it as more of a fable than reality. And because her brothers looked up to her and followed her lead in most all things, they did as well.

I heard her tell them once that by “flying,” I meant we took a car or a tractor or something and drove really fast or maybe we rented a helicopter. Apparently her teacher had taught her about creative license and that had her rewriting the story in her head to make it fit reality as she knew it.

“Well, I’m glad I got the game I wanted.” She held up the board game that was all the rage in her class because one of the student’s uncles drew the dragon on the box. I wasn’t sure how fun it was going to be, but famous adjacent was enough for her. “It’s better than your gift. You may like vegetables, but I don’t.”

She really didn’t. If it wasn’t coated in ranch or in the form of spaghetti sauce, she didn’t want it. Her brother Jase, on the other hand, ate a head of broccoli for a snack. And John? He could take or leave them as long as he had grapes. In some ways, they were so different, and in others, exactly the same.

“Maybe next year, Santa will get you that new mouse you want for your computer.” John looked at my carrot with such sad eyes.

“I think I like this carrot even better than a new mouse.”

“Let’s finish opening our gifts before brunch is done cooking.” Caspian came over and put his arm around me, whispering in my ear, “Is that what I think it is?”

“It is.”

Cas clapped his hands. “Executive decision made. After all our presents are opened and we’ve eaten brunch, we are going on a field trip.”

“A field trip?” Jace whined. “But I just got my new Lego set!” The thing was massive and was probably going to take him the entire break regardless of whether we had family adventures or not.

“It’ll still be new when we get back.” Sage ruffled his hair and earned himself an eye roll.

“Is it at least someplace fun?” John asked. At least they had still liked the Christmas lights and ice cream trip the night before. I hoped they’d never outgrow it.

“You’ll see,” I teased, brushing my nose against his.

The kids continued to finish opening their stockings, loving each present more than the one before and were cleaning up the wrapping paper when the timer for the oven went off.

Sage got up. “All right, everyone. I think it’s brunch time.”

We were eating our traditional Christmas casserole—the one that became a tradition only a couple of years ago when we discovered how easy it was to piece together the night before. No one had to spend Christmas morning in the kitchen, and remarkably it was something everyone loved.

The kids grumbled about the field trip and not wanting to go anywhere. But I was thrilled. I was finally going to give them something I wanted them to never lose—proof that the magic of the season was real.

We all piled into the car and drove to Animals. It was closed—obviously, being Christmas Day and all—but the owners had always told us we could shift there whenever we wanted. It felt like the perfect place to show them, for the first time, what it looked like when their dad flew.

“It’s not even open.” Matti unbuckled her seat belt. “Are we visiting your friends?”

While Animals was a club more than a restaurant, the kids had been here for some family-oriented events over the years. There were lots of children who lived here or who had parents connected to the place, and the owners honored that frequently.

“Nope. But trust me, sweetheart. It’s going to be great.”

We walked around to where the benches were for people to set their clothing while they shifted, and I set the carrot on one of them. “I’m going to shift, and then you’ll see the surprise.”

They didn’t look like they believed me, but that was okay. They would figure it out soon enough.

I got undressed and took my reindeer form, stepping out into the clearing.

That’s when the real surprise appeared—Santa, holding the carrot next to a sleigh in what had been grass only seconds earlier.

“Did you know?” Sage asked, his eyes wide.

I shook my huge deer head.

“Kids, you are in for a treat.” Sage waved them to him, and my family walked over to our Jolly friend.

“Kids, this is Santa.” Caspian hugged him. “He helped your fathers find each other all those years ago.

“Wait, are you…” Matti’s eyes were huge. “For serious!”

“Oh, I am,” Santa said. “For serious.”

The three of them tackle hugged him, thanking him for all the gifts from this year and in years past.

“Why don’t you guys get on the sleigh, and I’ll get your dad hooked up?” Their eyes went wide, and they ran over, my mates following them.

It didn’t take long to get harnessed up. Santa gave me the carrot, and once I ate it, he climbed into the sleigh with the kids. Somehow, they all fit easily. It didn’t look possible and yet, there they were.

“All right, Douglas,” Santa said. “Let’s fly away!”

I started forward, just like I had the last time I flew. My feet no longer touched the ground a couple of steps in, and we were in the air.

We flew over San Diego, past our house, and back again. It wasn’t a long flight, which was good since this was still new to me. Flying once was hardly a solid experience. When we landed, the kids were giggling and talking a mile a minute.

As if by magic, my harness was off. No, not as if. It was magic, full stop. Santa was nowhere near it.

I shifted back, pulled on my clothes, and turned to him. “Thank you, Santa. You always seem to know the best Christmas presents ever.”

“It’s almost as if that’s my job,” he said with a wink. “Now off with you. I need to get back home. I told the family I was stepping out for a minute while the cinnamon rolls finished cooking, and they should be ready about now.”

He climbed into the sleigh, tapped the side of his nose, and disappeared. The children watched the entire time, their jaws hanging open.

“Whoa. Santa really did set you up,” Matti said. “He’s like the coolest matchmaker ever.”

“Yeah, he is,” I agreed. “He really is.”