Page 16 of The Scrooge Effect

“Um…”

This wasn’t right. I couldn’t cheat on Edu. Not at Christmas. Or anytime, but especially at Christmas.

Unless…was it possible Edu was my Highlander, and just didn’t look like himself?

“Edu?” I asked hesitantly.

“That’s right, lass. Call out my name and make me feel right good.”

Well, if it was really Edu, but as a Highlander, it wouldn’t technically be cheating. Right?

I slid my hand up his thigh, giggling when I realized there was absolutely nothing under the kilt. Man, that must be cold in the winter. I tugged the kilt up and ducked under it into complete darkness, but when I was just about to grab his length and put him in my mouth, a weird breathing noise startled me.

Jerking out from under the kilt, I stared in shock at none other than Darth Vader.

“James Earl Jones?” I whispered.

Again, that weird breathing sound filled my ears. “Harper.”

“Yes, James Earl Jones?”

“You’ve been a bad girl this Christmas.”

Giggling, I was about to slide my hand back up the kilt when I realized it was actually black robes. “Wait, are you James Earl Jones or Edu?”

“I am your father,” he said robotically.

I flinched back, scrambling away from the man. “Wait, are you James Earl Jones or actually my father?”

“I am your father.”

“Ew!” I ran from the room and headed for the stairs, but as soon as I got to the bottom, Darth Vader was standing at the bottom, a tiny Christmas tree in hand.

“Let the Force be with you.”

“Momma! Momma!”

I winced as a small hand hit me in the face, trying to wrestle me from the most disturbing dream I’d had in ages.

“Gracie!” I screeched just as a plastic bat hit me in the face. Grabbing it from her hands, I tossed it across the room and threw the covers off. “Gracie, we’ve talked about this. We don’t hit people with bats.”

“Bats!” she laughed, jumping up and down in her Christmas nightgown.

“No, no bats. We don’t hit.”

She ran across the room and picked up the bat, holding it up in front of her just like Darth Vader would hold his lightsaber.

“I have got to get some coffee in me,” I muttered. “Come on, peanut. Let’s go to the bathroom and get dressed.”

I shuffled behind her, barely awake as she went to the bathroom and spent way too much time picking out her clothes. She was definitely a girly-girl, pairing a cute skirt with hot pink tights and pink cowboy boots, and a sparkly blue top.

I didn’t try to stop her from wearing her crazy outfits unless they were really out there. She’d been picking out her own clothes since she was about a year old, and had learned to put on her own shoes fairly early.

James, on the other hand, was still very much dependent on me. At just about a year old, my little boy loved his snuggles and was perfectly happy for me to do everything for him. He wasn’t nearly as independent as Gracie, which was fine with me.

For now.

Admittedly, there were times that I wondered if I would still be doing everything for him as he went off to kindergarten.