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“Hey, baby.” Alex removed the mug of tea from Henry’s hands to place it down on the kitchen counter, and wrapped his hands gently around his husband’s waist, pulling him closer. “I was thinking.”
“Always dangerous,” Henry said cheekily, lowering his head to give Alex a chaste kiss on his forehead.
Alex ignored him. “We have some free time this weekend. You’re home, I’m home. What if we…”
Henry leaned back, eyebrows raised. “In front of the children?”
“Well, I was thinking with the children. They’re old enough to help now.”
“Love, I’m begging you to go back and finish that sentence.”
“What if we put up the Christmas tree?”
“Oh.”
“You thought I meant…” Alex trailed off, a grin spread wide across his face.
“You nearly always mean that.” Alex laughed, as Henry wrapped his arms around his neck, and combed his fingers through his hair. It was longer than usual, with some isolated grey strands starting to peek through. It fell down over his ears, and perfectly framed his glasses. Henry loved this version of Alex. Older, mature, yet still just as cheeky and horny as he was in youth.
Standing here — in the kitchen of their Austin farmhouse, while their two children watched cartoons in the next room — Henry was happy. He never thought he would have this life, this house, this husband. He’s so grateful for it, every day.
But he also has traditions, and Christmas in November is not part of that.
“No, love, it’s not even Thanksgiving yet. It’s too early.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t celebrate Thanksgiving.”
“I do live in a country that celebrates Thanksgiving, so I am aware of it.”
“You’re going back to London on Tuesday, and I’m taking the kids to the lake house for the week. We’re not going to be in the same house again until December.”
“The second of December, Alex. Which is the perfect time to decorate the Christmas tree.”
“Hen, baby. We have always put the tree up on December 1. Every year. Which has taken great restraint on my behalf, mind you. And since you won’t be here on December 1, we have to put it up in advance so that it is up on December 1. Which means that today, November 20, we are picking out our Christmas tree.”
“I know you left law for a reason but goodness, Alex. You were born to argue.”
“Thank you.” Alex smiled sweetly.
They were interrupted by the pitter patter of tiny footsteps running into the kitchen. “Daddy we're getting a Christmas tree!” a small voice said excitedly. Henry looked down at Ursula, who was looking back up at him with the bluest eyes he'd ever seen. Sweet, effervescent Osa. Four years old and an absolute firecracker. She has Henry's blonde hair and Alex's enthusiasm for life. And his enthusiasm for Christmas.
“Where did you hear that, little love?”
“Papi told me this morning.”
“Oh, did he now? That's interesting.”
Henry looked over at Alex, who grinned back sheepishly. “Ursa Major, I think I said we were going to surprise daddy with that.”
She giggled. Henry loved her giggle. The sweet sound of pure innocent joy; he had cried the first time he heard it. He'd bottle it if he could, so that in twenty years time he could open it up and listen to it just one more time. He'd probably cry again then, too.
“Sorry Papi, I forgot.”
“That's okay, Osa,” Alex said. “Why don't we get you dressed so we can go pick out our tree.”
“Alex, can we even buy a tree today? It's too early.”
“Of course, Papa Noël's is open this weekend. I checked.” Alex blinked slowly in Henry's direction, his eyelashes fanning out like waves across his cheek. “Henry, baby, the love of my life, could you please get Urs and Lucas ready while I get the decorations down from the attic?”
Henry’s greatest weakness was, and always had been, Alex's eyelashes. Alex wielded them like a weapon, whether it was an attack or self defence, they were always at the ready to wear down Henry's armour. And it always, always, worked.
Henry collected Lucas from the couch and shepherded him to his bedroom in search of an outfit for the day. Lucas was two, with Alex's dark curly hair and Henry's quiet but strong temperament. He was small but he was mighty. And he was, well, two. Not exactly in the most cooperative age group.
Henry could hear the thumping noises above his head, of Alex stomping through the attic in search of their Christmas decorations. Those noises paled in comparison to the howling coming out of Lucas, all because Henry had dared to suggest he would need to wear shoes and not his favourite slippers. They searched through Lucas’ wardrobe for a pair of shoes they could agree on. His beloved green dinosaur sneakers that he wore every day? Absolutely not. The black and white Nikes that matched Alex's? Not today. Henry was running out of shoes and patience.
“I want slippers!” Lucas wailed.
“Lucas, I am your father,” Henry said frustratedly, “and I must insist you wear your shoes today.”
Alex chuckled from the doorway. “God, you love saying that.”
Henry rolled his eyes. “You and I both know that's half the reason we named him Lucas.”
“Lukey, buddy — “ Alex stepped into the room and crouched down next to their son. “Look what I've got for us to wear.” He showed Lucas the small pair of red and green patterned socks he had in his hand. “They're Christmas socks, we've all got our own pair. Ursula has got hers on, I've got mine on, and Daddy is about to put his on too.” He pulled another pair of socks out of his pocket and tossed them over to Henry. “And then I'll wear my black and white Nikes and we can match, okay?”
Lucas nodded up at him, his eyes blinking with tears threatening to burst down his ruddy cheeks. “Do you need a hug, buddy?” Alex asked, softly and gently. Lucas nodded, then let Alex sweep him up in a tight bear hug.
Henry reached over and touched Alex's hand as it was wrapped around Lucas. Thank you, he mouthed, as he slid past them to go put on his own Christmas socks. Alex helped Lucas with his shoes, held his little hand in his, and walked him to their front door.
Alex lifted Lucas up into his car seat, brushing away the dry cereal crumbs onto the car floor. He buckled Lucas in and then stepped over the red umbrella peeking out from underneath the front seats, to help Henry buckle Ursula into hers. Buckling an unwilling four year old into a car seat felt like trying to put a sweater on an octopus at times.
Alex was wearing a garish Christmas sweater, with a decorative Christmas tree covered in an offensive amount of tinsel. He'd dressed Ursula in a green dress, her Christmas socks, and glittery red shoes. As they climbed into the front of the car, Henry said “I am feeling a little underdressed, love,” as he motioned to his jeans, white tee and slouchy grey cardigan combo.
“Sweetheart, you look beautiful. Besides, I came prepared.”
“Of course you did. What have you got for us?”
Henry was very used to Alex's love of Christmas. Adored it, in fact, though he would never admit it. Every Christmas festivity was an event with themed outfits and curated food. Alex excelled at creating moments, at elevating normal life experiences beyond the mundane. Becoming a father had only amplified his love of Christmas, his love of joy. He was born to be a father, and he was incredible at it. Henry was, as always, hopelessly besotted with his husband.
“We've all got a pair of reindeer antlers to wear on our head.”
“Of course.”
“And there's a little stall at Papa Noel's with hot chocolate and sweets, so we can get a drink and a snack while we pick out our tree.”
Henry looked over at his husband in the driver’s seat, gripped his hand tightly and ran his thumb across his knuckles. “I love you.”
🌱🌱🌱
They returned home with the biggest, fluffiest tree they could all agree on —the kids with hot chocolate spilled down their fronts and hands sticky from eating caramel apples, but smiles on their faces.
Alex and Henry lugged the tree indoors and into the living room, in front of the floor to ceiling windows that made them fall in love with this house originally.
Alex filled the tree stand with water while Henry helped the kids wash their hands and faces in the bathroom.
David wandered over to look at the fresh bowl of water in the living room, and immediately began to drink from it. “Davey, no!” Alex protested. He could never be mad at their first child, but keeping him away from the tree stand was practically a full time job every December.
Henry and the kids came back into the living room to watch Alex place the tree in the stand and cut the netting surrounding it.
Ursula clapped, and Lucas followed along, always willing to mimic his big sister.
“We have to wait a few hours for the tree to settle before we start decorating.“
“Says who?” asked Henry.
“Says Martha Stewart. So we should decorate the rest of the house while we wait.”
Alex queued up his Christmas playlist on their speakers, reapplied his reindeer antlers, and set about opening the boxes of Christmas decorations he’d found.
As Mariah Carey echoed through their spacious farm house, they hung their matching cowboy boot stockings over the fireplace with Lucas on his tippy toes struggling to reach the mantel. Ellen had bought a pair of them when they had first moved to Texas, and had taken great joy in picking out another one for each grandchild. Henry was, of course, horrified, but Alex loved them. Henry now had his Stetson and he had his cowboy boot Christmas stocking. It was only a matter of time before he was saying y’all.
Henry lifted Lucas up so he could place his stocking over the loop. “There you go, little love,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to his nose as he placed him back on the ground.
Henry hung garland over the doorways, and a Merry Christmas bunting above the television. That one had been sent over by Martha their first Christmas in the brownstone, each letter alternating with a Union Jack flag.
Ursula was setting up small figurines of Santa Claus and his reindeer on their coffee table, arranging and rearranging them in every possible configuration, none of them looking quite right.
Lucas yawned and rubbed his eyes, and Henry whisked him away for a nap before he could get overtired. “The treeee,” he cried, making little grabby hands as Henry picked him up.
“We won't decorate it until you wake up, my love. I promise.”
Alex hung string lights on every possible surface.
Ursula dug through the box of decorations and pulled out a plastic branch with green leaves and small white berries. ”What's this?” she asked curiously.
Alex swooped her up into his arms, resting her comfortably on his right hip. “That, my Osa, is called mistletoe. When you stand underneath it, you have to kiss the person next to you.”
Henry returned from settling Lucas and quickly interrupted — “only if they want to, of course. We do not kiss people who don't want to be kissed. Do we, little love?”
“Except on New Year's Eve,” Alex muttered under his breath.
“You very much wanted to be kissed, darling.” Henry smirked and pressed a kiss to his husband’s forehead.
Ursula, still in Alex's arms, lifted the branch above her head, barely eye level for Alex, and said “I want a kiss, Papi.” He held her little face in one hand and gave her a noisy kiss on the cheek. Henry laughed, then immediately jumped into action, planting an equally loud kiss on the other. Ursula squealed with delight. “More tisslemoe!”
“Mistletoe, darling.”
Alex removed his reindeer antlers and hoisted Ursula up onto his shoulders, trying to find the perfect place to hang the mistletoe she held aloft in her chubby little hand. “More kisses!” she giggled, peppering Alex’s hair with kisses with each step he took. Her spare hand was gripped tightly around his forehead, holding on with all her might. She was perfectly safe, she always was, but the novelty of being up so high was thrilling.
Henry stood back and watched. The greatest love of his life, with the first greatest love of their life. He wouldn’t trade this for anything.
Ursula decided that the perfect place for mistletoe was hanging from the light in the centre of the living room. The one they all walked under approximately one million times each day.
With the mistletoe in place and Ursula back on solid ground, Alex headed into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. Henry stepped behind him, and ran his hands up and down his back. “I’m glad we’re doing this today,” he whispered into Alex’s ear.
Alex turned around to face his husband. “Me too, sweetheart.” He paused, eyes settled on Henry’s as they took a moment to breathe each other in. “I’m really going to miss you while you’re gone.”
“I know, love, I will too. But I haven’t been back there in a while and I won’t need to go again until next year. Pez just insisted I attend these workshops in person, and they are important.”
“I know, Hen. I understand, I do. But I’ll still miss you.”
“I don’t know how we used to do this all the time. How we used to spend so much time apart.” Henry leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Alex’s waist, resting his head on his shoulder. “We are shockingly codependent now.”
“I know, I love it,” Alex said as he tucked a lock of hair behind Henry’s ear. “I wouldn’t change a thing.”
🌲🌲🌲
Lucas awoke from his nap with a burst of energy. He had recently transitioned to his big boy bed and jumped out of bed with a flourish. He ran into the living room yelling “tree! Tree!”
“Look, Lukey! It’s simmletoe” Ursula said as she jumped and pointed towards the ceiling.
“Mistletoe, darling.” Henry gently corrected.
“Lukey, when we stand under it, we can kiss.” She grabbed her little brother in a tight hug and squished his cheek to her mouth.
“Alright, alright, shall we decorate the tree now?” Henry asked.
“Tree! Tree!” yelled Lucas.
“Tree! Tree!” yelled Ursula.
“Tree! Tree!” yelled Alex.
They were interrupted by the sound of slurping from underneath the tree. “Davey get out of there!” Alex warned the pup. David wandered over to his dog bed in the corner of the room, feeling appropriately admonished.
Ursula plonked herself down on the floor next to his dog bed. She delicately removed the reindeer antlers from her head — that had miraculously remained in place all day — and positioned them on David. He didn’t protest, in his advanced age he has become well accustomed to the antics of the Claremont-Diaz-Fox household.
Alex directed the tree decorating like he was conducting a symphony. “I have to put the lights on first. Then Hen, you decorate the top section.”
“Of course, darling, I’m the only one who can reach.”
Alex glared silently before continuing. “I’ll do the middle, Ursa Major and Lukey will do the bottom. And then — “ he whispered to Henry “ — we’ll re-do the bottom section once they’ve gone to bed.” Alex swung his hands around wildly as he spoke, pointing to each section of the tree and which specific box of decorations was for each.
They all got to work, pulling out baubles and tinsel and placing them on the tree. Every year they received a parcel of Christmas ornaments from the Royal Collection, lovingly sent by Catherine and Bea. They have the whole set of handcrafted Buckingham Palace ornaments, including the limited edition bauble from Catherine’s Coronation year. They have one with their photos in it, from the year Alex was officially named a royal suitor. Ursula stopped to ask Henry questions about each one, who sent it to them and what it represented.
“And this one, my little love, is incredibly special.”
“Is that Granddad?”
“Yes, my darling. That is my dad, and your granddad. He would have loved both of you very very much.” Henry lifted Ursula up into his arms, so she could hang their Arthur Fox ornament high atop the tree. It was a casual photo of Arthur printed onto wood, tied with a delicate gold ribbon. Alex had given it to Henry on the tenth anniversary of his passing. Catherine, Philip and Bea all have the same one to hang on their trees. Alex lifted Lucas up into his arms, and pointed at the ornament, so he could see as well.
Arthur was spoken of a bit more freely these days. Henry happily shared childhood stories of days on film sets or in the Welsh countryside. Henry felt very strongly that if Arthur couldn’t know his children, his children would definitely know Arthur.
They placed the last of the decorations on the tree. Lucas delicately placed a bauble on a branch, only for it to immediately slide off. Alex was right behind him, to pick it up and replace it on another branch. Ursula decorated with a bit less structure, placing baubles anywhere they would fit. Sometimes all on the one branch, but they wouldn’t dare correct her creative vision.
“Are we ready?” asked Henry.
Henry lifted Lucas up onto his shoulders, and Alex raised Ursula up onto his. Alex passed the star to Ursula, who gripped it with both hands. Both kids raised their hands up, Ursula holding the star and Lucas holding onto the air around him, as Ursula placed the star on the top of the tree. They placed the kids back on the ground, then all looked back at the tree, happy grins spread across their faces. The star was perhaps a little lopsided, but that didn’t matter.
Alex flicked on the Christmas lights, then lay down on the floor underneath the tree to admire their work. He motioned for Henry to join him, who waved for Ursula and Lucas to join them. Their four heads in a row, and their four pairs of Christmas socks positioned under the branches at staggered lengths.
Alex raised his eyes up towards the ceiling. “We’re all under the mistletoe.”
Alex rolled onto his side and pressed a sweet soft kiss to Henry’s cheek. Henry rolled over and did the same to Ursula, who rolled over and did the same to Lucas.
Alex held Henry’s hand, Henry reached over and held Ursula’s, and Ursula grabbed Lucas’.
“You and me, Hen.”
“You and me, love.”
“And us!” squealed Ursula.
“All of us,” Alex said.
“All of us,” Henry agreed.
🎄🎄🎄