Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
But this year was good.
We decorated the tree together while we enjoyed Mom’s hot cocoa, I got to spend some extended time with everyone, wake up early to hit the slopes, to forget all the things waiting for my attention at home, and just appreciate what I had.
My family.
I was so goddamn lucky.
When I lost Catherine, my life ended because she was family, but my parents and siblings showed me the real meaning of unconditional love.
Sicily sat with me on the couch, watching my nephews play with some of their toys on the carpet in front of the fireplace. Both with dark hair like my brother, they were freakin’ adorable. Ironically, Little Deacon looked a lot like my dad, but that wasn’t why they named him that. It was just a coincidence.
She sipped her hot cocoa with her legs crossed, wearing a sweater dress that dropped down one shoulder, red like the ornaments on the tree, black tights underneath with black boots. She even wore a Santa hat, making me think of a sexy Mrs. Claus. “This hot cocoa is really something.”
“Mom’s secret recipe. Well, not really a secret, she’ll share it with anyone that asks.”
She looked down into the cup with floating marshmallows, not realizing the way her eyes reflected the lights of the tree, the way her cheeks had this glowing complexion because of the shine of the ornaments. We sat together for a while, and surprisingly, we didn’t talk about work once.
Her parents walked over, wearing their big coats like they intended to leave. “It’s getting late, baby, and I have to get up early to get ready for your brother tomorrow.” Hannah had the same brown hair as her daughter, the same facial structure, and a bit of the same elegance. She had her coat wrapped tightly around her midsection, like she was already bracing for the harsh winter waiting outside.
“Sure.” Sicily set the mug of hot cocoa on the coffee table in front of her. “I totally lost track of time—”
“I can take you home,” I offered. “I mean, if you’d like to stick around longer.”
Sicily stilled at the question.
Her mom smiled like that was the best idea she’d ever heard. “That sounds lovely. Sicily, We’ll see you later…or tomorrow.” She leaned in and shook my hand once more. “It was truly a pleasure to meet you, Dex. You have a wonderful family.”
“You too,” I said. “You raised a great girl. Wouldn’t know what to do without her.”
She smiled even brighter. “Maybe you’ll never have to know…”
Her father shook my hand before they departed.
Once they were gone and out the front door, I realized Sicily never got a chance to answer for herself. “Sorry, did you even want to stay?”
She grabbed her mug once more and took a drink. “Of course, I do. And I’m used to my mother making decisions on my behalf.”
“You know my mom does the same. Join the club.”
She set the mug on her thigh then turned to watch my sister move toward the piano. My mom stood at the other end as my sister took a seat. “Does your sister play?”
“And sings,” I said.
Sicily rolled her eyes dramatically. “Of course she does…”
“Yeah, she’s annoying.” I rolled my eyes too.
Sicily took a drink as she turned back to look at me, the music swelling in the living room as Daisy hit the keys without even a warm-up, filling the room with Christmas tunes that she knew by heart. “Why do you say that when you don’t mean it?”
“Oh, trust me, I mean it.”
“No, you don’t.” She gave my thigh a playful shove then looked at my sister again.
Daisy played a couple joyous songs, everyone joining in, singing Christmas carols as she guided us with the grand piano in the corner. My dad sat on the armchair with my mom across his knee, smiling wide as he sang, watching my sister rock the piano like she was Elton John.
Sicily sang along, getting into it like the rest of my family.
The kids were asleep on the rug, passed out from the long day, so tired that the music didn’t even bother them.
“Your sister has a really good voice.” Sicily turned to me while everyone continued to sing.
“She does.”
“Has she been playing piano her whole life?”
“No, actually. She started in high school, was a natural at it.”
“Do all of you play instruments?”
I shook my head. “Nope. She’s the only one. She took a music class in high school, rocked at it, and then came home and said we needed to get a piano, so we did.”
“Wow, that’s really cool.”
Yes, my sister was very cool. She was good at everything, great company, and so beautiful that some of my friends called her the perfect woman. Every man’s obsession with my sister was annoying, to say the least, but I’d slowly learned to just accept it.