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As they sat by the fire, drinking cocoa that was mostly marshmallows, Leo looked up at him. "You’re pretty good at this, Grandpa."
"Leo," Arthur said, his voice gravelly but warm. "Grab your coat. We have work to do." A Grandpa For Christmas
Arthur realized then that he wasn't just "giving" Leo a Christmas. Leo was giving him a purpose. The house wasn't quiet anymore; it was full. He wasn't just an old man in a big chair; he was a storyteller, a cocoa-maker, and a protector of secrets. As they sat by the fire, drinking cocoa
They spent the next three hours reclaiming the house. Arthur unearthed a box of ornaments from the attic that hadn't seen the light of day since the nineties. He showed Leo how to string popcorn, even though the dog ate half of it. He told stories about "the old days"—not the boring parts, but the parts about reindeer tracks in the mud and the time the Christmas tree fell over on the cat. We have work to do