“I think you missed something,” I told my daughter.
Zoë looked around the room. “What?”
“Your stocking!” I shifted the wrapping paper off of my lap. Not less than a second later Avery jumped into the paper and started ripping it to shreds. I reached down and picked up the dog, putting her in my lap and keeping her there.
Zoë crawled over to her stocking and dumped the contents onto the floor. I scanned the room for Anya. “Um, daughter M.I.A.,” I told Clare.
“Spotted,” Clare said, pointing to a pile of wrapping paper right in front of me.
“Hey An, you tired?” I asked my daughter. Anya was lying in the middle of the pile, yawning. She put her fist into her mouth and turned towards the Christmas tree. I looked back at Clare, “I’m taking that as a ‘yes.’”
“I wanna do that!” Clare said in a baby voice. “I wanna lie down under the tree in wrapping paper.”
“You don’t have to,” I told her, leaning over and giving her a quick peck on the lips. “You’re a gift already.” She laughed and rubbed her stomach. “They’re moving?”
Clare nodded quickly. “A lot.” I reached over and slid my hand under hers. She was right, they were shifting and kicking more than usual.
“Think they want gifts, too?” I teased.
“They’ll get their gifts when they start breathing with their own lungs.”
“I’m taking that to mean you want them out now.”
“Oooooh yeah!”
“What’s this?” Zoë asked from the floor, taking our attention. She was holding a small wrapped box in her hand. “This was inside of a gift.”
“Open it,” I urged. Zoë pulled off the layer of paper and found another wrapped box inside. She looked up at me. “Open it,” I repeated. She repeated the process two more times until finally the last box had only tissue paper to pull out. When all the tissue paper was gone she pulled out a small piece of paper and came up to me. She sat down between Clare and I and handed me the paper. “Ooo I think this is a scavenger hunt,” I told her mysteriously.
“What’s that, Daddy? A scavingker hung?”
“Scavenger hunt,” I corrected. “This paper has a clue on it. You read the clue and go to the place that it tells you to go. The clue is a little rhyme. This one says ‘I keep things cold’. Where are things kept cold?”
“The refrigerator!” Zoë exclaimed excitedly.
“That’s right!” I told her. “Let’s go check it out.” Zoë was off before I even had the chance to stand up. I handed Clare the dog, “hold this.”
“Get your coats,” Clare told me. “I doubt you’ll be able to get fully dressed but I don’t want you two leaving this house without boots and a winter jacket on, OK?”
“Yes, Mommy,” I said with a laugh.
“Daddy! Daddy!” Zoë was calling from the kitchen. “Come read!”
I met her halfway between the kitchen and the living room. She handed me the clue and I read, “‘Br I’m cold! I need to get warmer!’”
“The oven!”
“Go check it out,” I urged.
“Come on, Daddy!” She pulled me with her into the kitchen where she found another clue in the oven.
“‘I am where you put teeth so the tooth fairy to collect them.’” The next thing I knew I was being dragged up the stairs, then back down the stairs, back up the stairs, and back down one more time until we came face to face with the last clue. “‘I am high in the sky but right now I am in your living room.’ Hmmm... what do you think that means, Zo?”
Zoë walked slowly into the living room and pointed up at the tree, “The ANGEL!”
“I’ll get this one for you,” I said, carefully stepping over my sleeping daughter who was still in the pile of wrapping paper. I glanced at Clare quickly even though I was talking to Zoë, “Boy! Santa did put this clue up high, didn’t he?” I plucked the angel off the top of the tree and found the note in between her clasped hands. “Kind of makes you wonder how such a short man could get it up here.”
“He flew,” Zoë informed me.
“Huh?” I said putting the angel back on the tree. “Santa can fly?”
“He took flying lessons from Dancer.”
“Now why didn’t I ever think of that.” I cleared my throat and began to read the final clue. “‘This is the last clue! You’ve made it all the way to the end! This last clue requires a Daddy to put on your boots and coat and warm up the car. It’s time to take a little ride. Daddy will have the map in his coat pocket so he knows where to go. Have fun!’”
“Let’s go!” Zoë encouraged running into the hallway for her shoes.
I smiled at Clare. “Well... here goes nothing.”
I walked into the hallway and found Zoë had already pulled on her boots and coat. I grabbed my own and noticed her shoes were on the wrong feet. I quickly switched them and we were on our way out to the car in less than five minutes.
“Did you find the map?” Zoë asked me seriously as we waited for the car to warm up.
“Yes I did,” I told her. “I know where we are going.”
“Are you sure?” She asked me, her voice sounding worried.
I tried not to laugh. “I’m positive.” I took the car out of park and started down our street. Zoë looked out of the window the whole time, watching the scenery as if she was making sure that I really did know where I was going. She didn’t want to miss the gift, especially one that made her work as hard as this one did.
I hummed as I drove down the road, tapping my palm on the steering wheel, setting a beat for myself. “Keep going, keep moving, traveling on down. Don’t stop, can’t stop, never come down.” Zoë gave me a weird look. “You don’t like?” I asked her, stopping my song. She shook her head. I shrugged. “O well.” I turned onto a dirt road. “I think we’re here,” I told her. I put the car into park in the middle of the circle of trees and turned off the ignition.
Zoë looked around. “Are you sure?”
“The map said that this is the place.” I opened the door and nodded towards the outside. “Let’s go.” My daughter and I climbed out of the car. I took her hand and headed down a footpath that lead to civilization. I lead her towards a huge building that was next to a fenced in circle.
Zoë gasped as we walked inside of the building. I grinned as I lead her down towards the end of the barn and stopped right in front of a stall. Inside of it, on the far side of the wall near a little door was a pure white horse eating hay off the stable floor. On the outside of the stall, right under where the horse would poke its head out was a nameplate that read “Hanson”.
Zoë looked at me, her eyes wide. “Is this-”
I nodded and picked her up so she could see the beautiful animal. “He’s yours.”