“Nothing to it. ” Bill shrugged. “Fifteen pages of directions, innumerable tiny plastic parts, all pink; anyone with a degree in engineering could do it in five hours, easy.”

Lucy laughed. “Don’t expect to get any credit. You know what Toby told me? He says he doesn’t really believe in Santa, but he can’t believe we’d spend that much money on presents!”

“Well, I can see his point. All year long we say, ‘You can’t have that because it’s too expensive,’ then at Christmas it’s all under the tree.” He lifted the covers to climb into bed, and the kittens all tumbled into Lucy’s lap.

She laughed and handed one to Bill. “Aren’t they sweet?”

“Almost as sweet as you,” said Bill, nuzzling her neck. “Boy, Dad sure loved those cookies.”

“I think it’s the first time I’ve managed to do anything that pleased him. I was worried he’d choke on those pizelle.”

“When he absolutely has to, he can say something nice. He’s a lot happier, though, when he can find something to criticize.” Bill shook his head. “It’s too bad. When I was a kid I used to knock myself out trying to please him. I was never good enough for him. If I got a base hit, it should have been a home run. If I got a ninety-five, it should have been a hundred. That’s probably why I became a hippie carpenter instead of an insurance underwriter like him.”

“You’d be a terrible insurance underwriter,” said Lucy, stroking his hand. “You’re a good father.”

“I don’t want to be like him. I make mistakes, but they’re not the same ones he made. If Toby strikes out, I tell him he looked good up there. I tell him even Pete Rose strikes out. I tell him he’ll get a piece of it next time.”

Lucy snuggled up to him. “How about a piece of it right now?”

“Nope. I’m a liberated modern man. I’m not afraid to admit that I’m too tired.”

“Poor Santa. Well, kittens, it’s time to go to sleep.” She put them back in their box one by one and tucked the box in a corner of the room. Then she hopped back into the warm bed and curled around Bill. Nestled together, they were both asleep before they knew it.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

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“Mommy, can I go downstairs and see if Santa came?” Toby’s whisper was so earnest that Lucy had to smile as she groped for the clock.

“It’s six o’clock,” he assured her. The family rule was that nobody woke up Mommy and Daddy before six.