"Nicole, I want you to know that I love you and I'm so proud of the mother you are, sure you could know our daughter better..."

"Thanks." I couldn't help but cut him off.

"Let me finish, please." James shakes his head, still holding me close to him. "I could know our daughter better, too. It's all a learning experience and the only way you can learn it is to be in it. You still have time with her. You can change the way you are with our daughter. The fact that you are upset about it shows that you actually care. That's the greatest thing ever. Caring is what holds everything together."

"You really think there is hope for me as a mother?" James reaches down to wipe the tears from my eyes, cupping my cheeks with his hands.

"I know there is. I think getting fired is exactly what you needed to see that. Probably what we both needed to see that we could use a little more balance in our lives."

"Oh good. So I can put all the blame on you and not worry about fixing my part. Alright, I'm going to go find a job again." I chuckle lightly, watching as James face contorts at my joke. He must not have found it funny.

"Nope! You are going to stay right here and let me hold you close for just a second longer." His voice was a mere whisper. He sounds desperate.

"I'd love to." A smile forms on my face. I could feel his tender love, almost as if the feelings were transferring directly from his chest to mine. His arms made me feel so comfortable and safe. I could stay here for the rest of my life.

Apparently the only thing that could break the moment between us was a stomach growling. James shot away, bringing his hands to his stomach to try and muffle any sound, but there was no getting away from it.

"Uh, what are we making for dinner?" He asks, holding his hands out in a shrug. We both burst into a fit of laughter, still in shock at how loud and atrocious the sounds were.

"I was thinking we could make some skillet potatoes and chicken?"

"That sounds great to me, let's get started!" James responds, heading deeper into the kitchen, stopping for just a moment by the stereo. "We are going to jazz this up a little bit while we cook."

James clicks on the stereo, tuning it to the channel playing Christmas music non-stop. He turns it down just a little, but leaves it loud enough that it fills the kitchen with cheer.

I had already started gathering the ingredients for the potatoes, and James took charge of the chicken, pulling spices and seasonings out until the shelf looks nearly empty.

"We are going to dance while we cook, because why can't we have any fun?" James wiggles his finger with the music, tapping his foot.

"You are insane!" I grab the potato peeler and get to work on washing, peeling, and chopping all the potatoes, putting them in a pan with just a dash of olive oil.

"Not insane, just feeling the Christmas spirit through my veins. Nothing wrong with that." The smile on James' face proves there's nothing wrong with a little Christmas spirit.

I knew I hadn't been around much, but I couldn't remember the last time I saw James smile like that.

"Here Comes Santa Claus, Here Comes Santa Claus, Right down Santa Claus Lane, Vixen and Blitzen, and all his reindeer pulling on the reins." James sings, swinging his hips with the music, trying the best he can to show he was dancing while also cutting thin lines into the top of the chicken breasts. He wiggles around the kitchen, grabbing a pan for himself and drizzling some oil into the bottom of it. Placing it on his side of the stove so it could start heating up.

I finish the potatoes and start cutting some carrots, celery, and green onions, adding each item to the potato pan. I turn the flame on my side as well, getting everything started so it can finish near the same time.

"Bells are ringing, children singing, all is merry and bright. So hang your stockings and say your prayers, 'cause Santa Claus comes in two weeks." James continues singing, feeling the music like he's never felt music before.

"Yeah, get it!" I shout, dancing over to the stereo to turn it up just a little more so we can hear it clearly over the sizzling of the food. Maybe we should try cooking like this more often? My stomach was rolling in a fit of laughter, smiles so wide it nearly split our faces in two, and everything just felt warm and happy.

Once everything was added to my pan, and James had placed the chicken into his own, he took my hands, pulling me into him, holding on to me like we were going to waltz.

"Would you like to dance?" He mocks a serious tone, holding it for just under a second before breaking, laughter shooting through the room.

"I would love to dance with you." I couldn't smile any wider.

James took my hands and swung us around the kitchen, spinning frantically to the sporadic bumps in the music. Humming along with the song, we journey into the living room, bobbing and swaying with the rhythm. There was no rhyme or reason to our movements, and we couldn't figure out what direction we were going, yet we were still having fun. The song slowly came to an end and the next one came on.

"The food!" James shouts, and suddenly we were in a sprint back to the stovetop. We both needed to flip and stir our food so that it wouldn't burn on the bottom. Each of us grab our utensils and went to work on nurturing our dinner. When he finishes flipping his chicken, he turns the heat down and shoots across the kitchen, singing into his tongs like a microphone. His socks slide against the wood floor, gliding his way to the stereo to turn it up once more.

I watch him while carefully stirring the potatoes. They would be done soon enough and I could set them to the side while we let the chicken finish. James was acting like a child in the best way possible and part of me wished we had done stuff like this more often as a family. A small pang rang out in my chest at the thought of Hazel not being here with us. She would have loved to dance to all the music. Then it hit me.

"Oh, no!" I jump forward, trying to turn the stereo off as quickly as possible. I fumble though, hitting the knob, turning it full blast.

"Santa Baby!" echoes through the house, as the symphonies crash in a loud bang. James must have realized what I was doing as he rushes over to the stereo, unplugging it rapidly. We both look at each other, feeling the awkward silence fill in the space between us. There was nothing, not a single peep, or a whisper of a sound.

We both took a large breath, letting it out slowly. Maybe we had gotten lucky and Hazel had slept through all the commotion. Both of us head back to the food, checking it to see if it was ready for us to enjoy.

"Okay, maybe we need to chill out on the music a little bit. But that was really fun." James was the first to break the silence, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

"Looks like it was a good workout for both of us, too." I check my watch, searching for my heart rate. It felt like it was going to jump out of my throat any second now, but when I saw the number of one hundred, I was a little let down. Maybe I should start going to the gym again now that I have some free time.

James grabs some plates, placing them next to each of us. I scoop some potatoes onto the plate before trading him for one that has chicken on it and put some potatoes on the new one. There were some leftovers that I could have for lunch tomorrow, or Hazel could have them for breakfast. We each took our seats at the dining table, but James pops back up rather quickly, grabbing us each a glass of water.

"Would you like something else other than water?" He asks, walking back to the table. I shake my head, taking the glass from him, drinking nearly the whole thing in just a couple of gulps. Before either of us could take our first bites, though, a noise rang out from upstairs. At first, it starts off quiet, slowly growing until both of us knew exactly what it was.

"Hazel." We mutter at the same time. I glance down at my food, feeling some disappointment that she had woken up. I was so ready to dig in and everything looked so good. We worked up an appetite, dancing around the entire kitchen and living room. My feet were throbbing, and my body was sore. I was ready to sit down and relax.

"I'll go get her." James stumbles out of his chair, slowly making his way toward the stairs.

"No, let's go together." I quickly respond, trying to get him to stop in his tracks. It didn't feel right to sit down and eat dinner alone.

Normally, that's what we would have done. I would have cooked something while he was putting her to bed, and would have already started eating in front of my favorite show when he came down. His food was usually cold, and I never took any time to realize how awful of me that was. We'd both be happier if we just waited and spent the time cooking together and enjoying time with each other. But it was hard to work with Hazel going to bed so early. Every little sound sending a panic that it would be the one to wake her up.

James takes my hand, leading me up the stairs and to the first door on the right. Hazel's room was the most decorated room in the house, with knick-knacks on shelves and pictures hung up in every free space. Two dressers on opposing walls to hold all of her clothes. The crib was neatly tucked against the third wall, leaving her closet to fill the fourth.

"Hey baby," James whispers, picking her up to wipe the tears from her eyes, very much like he did for me earlier in the night. He really did have a way of making everyone feel better when they needed support. He held her close to his body, sitting down gently in the rocking chair, rocking slowly while he hums a Christmas song to her.

I couldn't take my eyes off of him. James was the most attractive man I've ever seen, with his wispy brown hair falling perfectly, his brown eyes that would look at our daughter with so much love, the way his lips pucker and curl as they kiss her forehead. No wonder she loves her dad so much. I felt the tears start to well up in my eyes again.

There have been so many reminders of all the things I missed out on. These moments where James would put our daughter to sleep, I was never here. Matter of fact, today, putting Hazel down for her nap was the first time I'd put her to sleep since she was two months old. James always handled everything and did it with such pride I never had to think about it.

My heart sank, and the weight of all the wasted time was settling in much heavier than it already had. I didn't need any more reminders.

What I needed was genuine change.