“Will Father Frost come?” asks the daughter.
“Of course he will!” I answer.
“And will there be presents under the Christmas tree?”
“There will be a whole pile!” I say confidently.
“And will Dad be in that pile too?” she asks again, innocently.
I didn’t expect to find a surprise under the tree in the form of a charming audacious man. We’ll spend New Year’s in solitude—and the daughter somehow looks so much like him with her eyes…