“I know you’re not going to believe this,” I say slowly, “but it was the holiday season then. I don’t believe in Santa Claus per se, but as I was walking down the street that afternoon, I swear one of the window displays at Bloomingdale’s was talking to me. There was a fake Santa arranged in the window with elves all him with presents in their hands, and it looked like his mouth was moving. I didn’t believe it at first. I thought I was going crazy, and literally looked around to see if there was a ventriloquist nearby. But sweetheart, it was the Santa talking to me. Somehow, he was telling me that you were in danger, and so I took off for the rehearsal studio in a run.”

Cindy stares at me.

“Are you serious?”

I nod.

“Maybe it was temporary schizophrenia. It does happen. But I’m telling you the honest truth now, baby. I think it was Santa, or some magical holiday spirit, telling me that the woman I love was in danger, and I responded to that.”

“But the voice was right,” she says slowly, looking deep into my eyes. “What are the chances?”

I nod.

“Yes, those are my thoughts exactly. What are the chances? Something magical was definitely in the air that day because if I hadn’t come when I had, you would have been hurt a lot worse.”

Cindy nods, her expression grave.

“Yes. And you’re right, Blake. I’m not one to question magic in the world, and in fact, I want to do something to honor this gift from Saint Nick. I’m pregnant again, Blake, and this time it’s a boy. Would you be okay with naming him Nicholas, in honor of our patron saint?”

I pull her curvy form close, letting my big hand skim down to rest against her soft stomach.

“Are you really pregnant again?” I ask, my voice hoarse. “So soon? I know you wanted to have a little time off between kids.”

“I did,” she acknowledges before reaching up to press her lips against mine. “But I realized that being the mother to your children is the most important thing to me in life. More than my career as an actress, more than any college degree, more than anything, period. I want this baby, Blake, and I’d love to name him Nicholas.”

Tears pool in my eyes as I pull the beautiful blonde close once more.

“Of course we’ll name him Nicholas, sweetheart. He’s our magical baby, and he and our daughter were delivered to us by the holiday spirit.”

Cindy laughs throatily and snuggles against my broad chest as happiness washes over my frame. This is how life was meant to be: with my wife, my daughter, a son on the way, and the magic of Santa looking over our peaceful little family. How did I get so lucky? I’m not sure, but this holiday baby is the best gift I’ve ever received.

The End

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