Second chance to love again

chapter 4

"It's stupid and unnecessary, Albert."

"It's tradition! Henry will love it, Andrew, think about it."

Andrew nodded, put his hand under his chin and narrowed his eyes, and two seconds later returned to his original position and shook his head.

"No, it's still stupid and unnecessary."

Albert sighed, though he never lost his smile. They were in the Mansion's private room, with Henry being entertained by Millicent, who had the child on her lap and tickled him from time to time and made strange faces, which Andrew, at 21, wished he would never see again. He crossed his arms, seeing the happy child, and squinted his eyes: of course, the child laughs and laughs; ah, but when he has to eat or sleep he prefers to scream.

"Andrew...'

"It's a bloody tree!" Andrew shook his head, annoyed. "I can do it within a few years, when I'm sure the kid can remember what's going on around them."

Boy, this is a new beginning for Henry and me. Millicent looked at the two of them now, but Henry kept to the side; Albert approached him with a kind smile, and Andrew wanted to curse himself, feeling himself soften. "Enjoy it, Henry still won't remember or understand much, you're right. Have a Christmas with your decent pupil, with a big tree full of lights and decorations, go out into the snow and enjoy the flakes that fall on their faces, drink chocolate..."

"And then we sing, yes, yes." Andrew rolls his eyes, though he doesn't dampen the hopeful glint in Albert's eyes, drawing an exasperated snort out of him. And then I'm going to sit the child in front of him for hours and hours with a necklace spell. Happy?

December 24, 1981, 8:34 pm.

Andrew calmly drinks his coffee, admiring the big green tree full of ornaments and dim yellow lights, which don't get in the way. There were a few deer and the occasional Santa who flew around the hanging gold and silver stars, along with a few snowballs and one in particular that Henry hadn't stopped looking at, that Andrew had created for him in a small moment of weakness, which contained her favorite miniature animal, a doe that trotted along the available toy rail, or lay silently, looking around.

His private room was dark, with only the lights from the Christmas tree illuminating the instance, Andrew sitting on his couch and Henry calmly in his lap, his back against his abdomen and drinking warm milk from the bottle, sleepy and with his hands. his eyes narrowed as he looked up at the tree, dragging his little feet.

Andrew allows himself a small smile, now that no one can see him, and gently strokes the boy's dark hair.