Christmas Eve Ten Years Later
Grier sat with her son Klaus and her daughter Elsa on the window seat with Twila and her triplets. Twila’s twins were fast asleep, crashing out right after dinner.
“Mom, is Grandpa really going to come down the chimney?” Elsa was four now and really for the first time getting into the spirit of Christmas, but this particular question was one she’d asked at least a hundred times as of late. “I saw it in the movie, and he comes down a chimney.”
“Don’t be dumb,” six-year-old Klaus argued. “He’s using portals.”
“Don’t call her dumb,” another small voice called out coming from the edge of the hallway. Nicholas, Grier’s eldest son, and a right chip off the old block of his father and grandfather came into the space scowling with an expression he’d been born with
