Zack: Lucy was being her usual demanding self, as Snoopy ran around and caused mayhem. Smiling, I muted the TV and answered the phone.

“Hi Daddy!” my daughters voice was heard on my phone. “We’re in Atlanta on layover and should be getting there right on time around 7:30 this evening! Tim and Natalie are grabbing a quick snack before we have to board in an hour. I just wanted to touch base to make sure you will be picking us up”

“Sure thing, sweetheart!” I laughed. “Jenny has the place all set for you guys. This will be a wonderful Christmas! We’re really looking forward to meeting our newest grandchild. How is she holding up with all the excitement?”

“It’s a bit overwhelming for her, but I think she is doing good, all things considered.” Denise paused a moment. “And there are some other things we need to talk about. But that can wait. Okay?”

“Sure,” I replied. “I will see you at the airport soon. I love you!” My daughter replied that she loved me as well and the call ended. I turned and my wife, Jenny, was standing in the doorway of the family room grinning.

“Are we getting dressed for the occasion?” I nodded. “Good,” she chuckled. “Your suit is all ready to go and I can get changed in a few minutes as well, but Prissy will need to stay home and guard the fort.”

I wasn’t sure how well a four pound dog could actually “guard” anything, but I figured that she would probably sleep for a good part of the time that we were out of the house. Prissy is my darling little dog. She is a “Chi-Weenie”. Part Chihuahua and part Dachshund. I had adopted her a few years ago when I was doing a volunteer session at a local animal shelter, as “Santa”. Families coming in that day to adopt a pet got a picture of them with me, dressed up as old Saint Nick. The little dog had captured my heart and I adopted her that afternoon. She was a major help in me getting over the death of my first wife, giving me unconditional love and a set of ears to pour my grief out to. She somehow always seemed to know when to give me a kiss and look at me with soulful eyes as if to say; “I understand, Daddy. I love you.” She was with me the afternoon that I met Jenny at one of my “Santa Gigs” at a local VFW Hall, reconnecting with her after a brief meeting from many years ago. We dated and the following year, she accepted my request to become my bride.

Sitting back down in my recliner to watch the rest of the Holiday Classic; “A Charlie Brown Christmas”, I scooped Prissy up into my lap and gently rubbed her head and ears. “We’re having family home for the holidays, sweetie. It will be great!” Prissy just looked at me, and I could almost see her eyes sparkle with understanding. She was getting on in years, and I wasn’t sure how much longer she would be with us. I know that when her time to scamper across the Rainbow Bridge came, it would hit me hard.

The show ended, and we got dressed to head to the airport.

Jenny: Traffic on the highway was fairly light. Just at the end of rush hour. I held my husbands hand gently as he drove from our home to the airport. Norfolk International (VA) was a fairly busy airport, but we managed to get there in time to park and get to the arrival gates. I had met Denise and her husband Tim several times since Zack and I got together and married. They had flown out from Denver for the wedding and had visited several times after that. I know that I can never replace her mother, and she and I are comfortable with each other, her saying that she is thrilled that I have brought happiness back to her father. We both love him and want what is best for him. For now, that is me. I had set up the two extra bedrooms in the house for them, for while they were here. It was four days before Christmas, and they would be here through January third. I wish that Zacks son, Christopher, his wife Jessica and their two sons would have been able to come out as well, but they had too many commitments to visit. We would do a big Christmas Morning Face-time visit while they were with Jessica’s family in Ohio. My sons and respective families would be “in and out and back and forth” all day. When you own and run a catering business, you don’t keep “normal” holiday hours.

I first met Zack (and his late wife, Louisa) many years ago during Gulf War 1. My husband was deployed and I was doing my best to be “super mom” to our two sons. God knows it wasn’t easy. The bills were always late and the electric was always in danger of being shut off. We lived in a tiny house that was part of a Military Housing Complex that was built as TEMPORARY housing during WW2. Years later, it was still there, being held together with questionable maintenance and probably lots of duct tape under the paint, along with all the other homes in the area. Christmas was looking bleak, and I had no idea how I was going to manage.

A week before Christmas, there was a knock on the door and a booming “Ho-Ho-Ho!” The boys scrambled to open the door before I could stop them. And there they were. Two total strangers who had shown up and brought in food, gifts and vouchers for the utilities. It was indeed a “Christmas Miracle” that had me crying. “Santa” had my sons help bring in gifts to go under our scrawny little tree, while “Mrs. Claus” took me aside to tell me what was going on. We did indeed have a blessed Christmas that year.

When my husband returned several months later, he was a changed man. I tried; goodness knows I tried. I loved him, but the drinking and his behavior took a toll on me and the boys. Eventually, it got to the point that I told him he needed help and that I was afraid for our marriage. By then, I was working in a realty office. When you live in an area with several military bases, there was always someone needing to buy, sell, or rent. Eventually I got my Realtor License. Financially, I could now take care of myself and the boys if I needed to. One morning, after dropping the boys off at school, I came home to find my husband waiting for me. He said that he just couldn’t do it anymore.

Being married and a father was more than he felt that he was capable of. He wanted a divorce. It wasn’t one of the bitter, drawn out things that you hear so often of. He just wanted some personal things and he was going to live in barracks while the boys and I stayed in the house we were renting. For several years after, he did his best to stay as a part of their life, but by the time high school started, he was sort of gone. We managed. I dated occasionally, but the “package deal” can turn men away.

The boys discovered a love of cooking and went to culinary school. Then the two of them started working at assorted places, and learned the trade from the inside out. One day, they decided; “We can do this for ourselves!” and their catering business was born. It grew slowly and is still growing. They were actually providing the food for the VFW Hall Party when I again met Zack. We were both older, wiser, and had life experience that was both good and not so good. We started keeping company and it soon grew to a full blown love relationship. When he asked me to marry him, I was thrilled to say “YES!” And thus the families started to blend.

Dressed as Santa and Mrs. Claus (Zack would always take me dressed up as Mrs. Claus with him on “SSSS” assignments) at the arrival gates got us a lot of smiles and a few curious looks. Suddenly a cry of “DADDY!” rang out and Denise was pushing through the crowd towards her father. He was wrapped in a hug as he could be heard laughing; “Ho-Ho-ho!” (Well, he IS Santa, right?)

Denise: My dad is such a kook! There we are, in the middle of the airport, thousands of other holiday travelers all around, and my family is greeted by Santa and Mrs. Claus. I let out a squeal and ran up for a hug. I could feel the eyes upon us, as well as a few cute comments. Behind me, I could hear my husband laugh. He always thought that it was pretty cool that my dad did the “Santa Thing”, before with my mother, and now with my step-mom, Jenny.

“Welcome home, sweetheart,” he rumbled in his best, deep Santa Voice. “Now how about we go say hello to the rest of the family?”

“Give me a moment,” I answered. Turning, I ran to give Jenny a hug as well. She had the “Mrs. Claus” look down pat. Cute outfit of long red dress with white trim, boots, and the “granny glasses” on her nose. Her hair wasn’t white, just a nice blend of medium brown with a good bit of grey shot through it. “Hey Jenny, I come bearing a new elf to the family!” and I gave her a peck on the cheek.

We turned to face my husband, and Natalie. The girl was looking at the three of us with an uncertain look on her face. I can sort of understand it, because she wasn’t all that used to what some might call a “loving family”. Natalie had come to us as an Emergency Placement, from the Department of Child Services. She had been in so many foster homes from the time that she was ten, to now at age sixteen, that I doubted that she even KNEW what a “normal” family was. The last home she was placed in the parents had a son much older who was starting to pay unwanted attention to the girl. Bad unwanted attention. When Natalie had mentioned this, in an almost nonchalant manner to her counselor, she was quickly taken from the home. That is when I got the phone call.

Tim and I were unable to have children. Turns out that I have some “woman issues” that kept me from carrying to term. If I ever did get pregnant, I would miscarry by the third month. After a lot of tears, medical consultations and prayers, we decided that one of us would have surgery to “get snipped”. Tim stated that he would have it done, since it was a 30 minute office procedure, instead of a major thing for me. “Besides,” he joked with his silly grin, “I can just take a long weekend off from work and relax. Can you maybe go to Kiss-&-Tell and get yourself a naughty nurse outfit for my recovery?” (I did.) So in a small way to help children, even if we couldn’t have any, we became certified as Emergency Foster Parents. Not an easy task, since some of these children will suddenly show up at your home at all hours of the day or night. Usually with little more than the clothes on their back. Sometimes they were lucky and had a small plastic trash bag with some clothes. These kids were angry, frightened, and confused. And for some, the moving from one home to another was just “business as usual” to them, as they tried to stay out of trouble (mixed results) and stay in school to get a high school diploma to try and do something after they aged out at 18 years old. That was the biggest fear these kids have. The day after they turned 18 and state benefits stopped paying for their care, the majority of them were jettisoned out to face the world, like it or not.

But Natalie was special. The moment I set my eyes on her, I know I wanted to make a major difference in her life. She had been brought to our home at the beginning of September, and she looked like she was ready to bolt away from us like a frightened animal. We led her to what would be her room, and I told her where she could find things. We had a closet off to the side full of toiletries and personal items that girls need. I also decided that we were going to Target later that afternoon to replenish her wardrobe. She had almost nothing. She was about 5’5” tall, thin as a rail, and her coloring indicated a mixed heritage. In spite of her saying it wasn’t true, she was actually cute. Her hair was a riot of tight curls that went to her shoulder. She quickly settled in with us, but remained quiet and cautious, as if she was always waiting for the next crisis or situation that would yank her to a new home.

And now she was with us for her first Christmas with my family.

Natalie: These people are freaks.

Zack: Driving back to the house, Denise and Jenny kept a running commentary about all the things happening with the respective family members and stuff in general. Denise filled Natalie in on how I had gotten started as a Santa, and how she and her brother grew up with seeing her mother and I go off every year to help others. She was also told about how after Louisa died, I took time off but eventually started with the SSSS again, and meeting Jenny. “The SSSS?” Natalie asked. “Super Secret Santa Society!” we all answered and laughed. The girl rolled her eyes in the classing teenager style.