Sophie had immediately taken Andrea back into her arms as soon as we had her inside, and Andrea calmed down almost immediately. Cooing, she snuggled against Sophie's chest and yawned, already tired and wanting another nap. "See? All she wanted was Mommy."
Sophie and I were both shocked when we came into the entertainment room and found Patrick. I had spent the night before sleeping at the clinic with Sophie and Andrea, so walking into the house to find it so changed from what I had left it the morning prior was happily pleasant. The far corner of the room, which normally contained some spare bean bags, had been converted into a total Christmas tree wonderland, complete with a six foot tall tree bedecked with lights, ornaments, and just about every other little thing you can think of. There was even a star on top that glittered in the light. Around the tree were at least two dozen various boxes, including a few that I recognized from the little bit of holiday shopping I'd done earlier in the month.
"Merry Christmas, and welcome home," Patrick greeted us, holding up a tray with three steaming mugs on it. "Cocoa?"
I'd never been one for holidays. As a child, my father spent too much time drunk around them, presents were few and far between once my mother died, and I often ended up eating nothing more than a peanut butter and jelly sandwich while watching football on the TV. Once my father died, I was already into the Confederation life leading up to being a hitman, and until I met Sophie there hadn't seemed a point. Christmas was just another day on the calendar. I'd even done work on a Christmas five years prior, although it was only setup for something I did later. Despite not having stepped foot in a church since I was ten, unless you counted the chapel Sophie and I had our Vegas wedding in, there were some lines I didn't want to cross.
So at first, having the whole Christmas spread was a bit strange. As I relaxed and got into it though, I enjoyed myself. "This whole thing was Tabby's idea," Patrick said after Sophie had settled in with Andrea, and he handed Sophie the first wrapped present. "So don't blame me if we went overboard."
"I'm just happy you got the carpet steam cleaned already," Sophie quipped. "That had to have taken you guys a couple of hours."
I was impressed by everything Patrick and Tabby had done over the week, actually. Tabby had handled communications for the rescue while at the same time helped Sophie with the delivery, and I owed the woman more than I could ever repay. After all, she'd brought my daughter into the world. "I can't blame you for anything," I said instead, smiling. "So, Sophie told me she ruined the surprise about our gift to you?"
"What gift?" Patrick asked. Sophie looked at me and smiled. I conceded to her.
"Well, we were thinking about one of two options. Either expanding this building to put in another full sized wing, or maybe building another separate house. This is supposed to be the house of one of the wealthiest people in the city, remember? It might as well start looking it besides being just eccentric. We'd give you guys the option of either one to live in, of course."
Patrick blinked, stupefied. "Really?"
"Really."
"Wow, that's going to make your first gift seem like crap," he muttered, then grinned to himself. "I've gotta start upping my gift-giving game."
In fact, the first gift opened was adorable, three sets of easy to open infant pajamas, all in feminine pastels. "I figure she's going to know how to kick my butt by the time she's eight, so I've got to work on her girly-girl side immediately," Tabby commented. "That's my job, after all."
I only mock groaned, knowing that regardless of how feminine or tomboyish we raised Andrea, she'd always be her own free spirit. Besides, having influences like Tabby and Patrick as well as Sophie and myself was important to our parenting plan. Our daughter was going to have more than just Sophie and I as parents if I had my say-so.
The rest of the gifts ran the gamut, from useful (Patrick got me a set of weightlifting shoes I'd been eyeing) to frivolous (Sophie gave me a coffee cup that read "World's Sexiest Dad," much to everyone's laughter) to the outright humorous (Patrick got a t-shirt that read "I'm the side kick. Shoot me!"). Andrea, for someone only four days old, enjoyed it all, smiling and watching in amazement before dropping off for a nap on the cushion.
"It's perfect for her," Sophie commented as she tucked her brand new Winnie-The-Pooh fleece blanket around her. "The cushion supports her well, and she has no risk of rolling off or out. She can't sleep here overnight, but it is perfect for naps."
"I'll try and not make too much noise while I clean up," I said, grabbing the first of the papers we'd strewn over the floor. Getting an armful, I headed out towards our garbage cans, only to hear Patrick behind me. "Relax man, I've got this. Your arm must be killing you."