Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
“Yeah, but I didn’t give him my present.” He worried his bottom lip, darting his gaze between Jase and me. “Will you give it to him? It’s under the tree. I wrapped it myself and hid it behind the curtain so you couldn’t see it. I thought he was gonna come over, but…will you give it to him before Christmas?”
“I…yes, of course.” I dropped to one knee, pulled the gift from his hands, and set it on the suitcase. “I have a funny question for you. What do you think about having a second Christmas when I get home from Green Bay? We can invite Chet too, and you can give him your present yourself.”
Linc scratched his head. “Should I call him?”
“I’ll do it. Don’t worry.”
“Okay.”
“You should get going. Papa’s waiting.”
He nodded, looking suddenly a hell of a lot older than eight and a half when he opened his arms wide. “Bring it in, Dad.”
I wanted to laugh at him feeding me my own lines, but it struck me as a sign. Or perhaps another gentle reminder of the passing of time. I kissed his forehead and squeezed him tight. “I’m gonna miss you.”
“Me too.” He gave me his best octopus hug, wiggling out of my hold when Jase approached.
“You ready to go, big guy?”
“Yep.” Linc inclined his head as he tucked his gift from Chet under one arm and rolled his suitcase toward the curb. “Merry Christmas, Daddy. I love you!”
That lump in my throat was now a grapefruit. “I love you too.”
Jase observed Linc in that patient parental way of his, monitoring his safety and gauging his mood like a watchful hawk. “Is the gift from you?”
I cleared my throat. “No, it’s from Chet.”
“Ah, the scientist.” Jase smiled. “Did Linc give him the present he made?”
“Not yet. We haven’t seen as much of him this past week.”
“Oh.” Jase frowned. His dark bangs swooshed in front of his eyes, giving him a vaguely mysterious air. I’d always had a feeling he saw more than he ever let on. Like he had mystical powers or something. “When does your flight leave?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Christmas Eve.”
“What are you getting at?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Nothing. But if I were getting at something, I might say…don’t think so hard, Sammy. Listen to your heart instead of your head for once. And have a happy Christmas.”
Jase kissed my cheek and walked away before I could reply.
I wouldn’t have said a word, though. He was right.
It was time to make some new plans.
Planning ahead wasn’t one of my strong suits. I took a page from Chet’s book and made a list of things I needed to get done. Some items were boring but necessary…like laundry and packing. Others were a bit more complicated. I mean, how did you plan to ask the guy you were crazy about to give you a chance? I couldn’t text or phone in a request. This was a big deal. I had to make sure he knew I was serious and committed and a bunch of things I had a difficult time verbalizing, but I hoped it would come to me when I saw him.
But he wasn’t available.
He returned my call with a text from a holiday gathering and promised to call in the morning. Which was when I’d be on my way to the airport.
I’m leaving tomorrow. Can you come over for dinner next week for a late holiday celebration with Linc and me?
Three dancing dots. Nothing. Three dancing dots. Nothing.
I continued packing, so I didn’t drive myself insane staring at my cell. It was either that or throw it at the fucking wall.
Yes. Call me when you’re home again. Safe travels.
Text tones were notoriously difficult to read, but this one had a businesslike edge that was very un-Chet. Damn. I hadn’t felt this helpless in a while. Whatever I was doing wasn’t enough. And I wasn’t sure how to fix it.
So I kept packing, went to sleep at a reasonable hour, tossed and turned all fucking night, then woke up early, and drove myself to the airport.
I usually hired a ride, but I’d waited too late to call…of course. And then I didn’t factor enough time for Christmas Eve traffic, which was more horrendous than I remembered. I should have been a nervous wreck, but my head wasn’t in it. That alone should have worried me.
Holiday travel was my norm. Christmas football games were life. Family dinners, presents under the tree, and anticipating Santa’s visit…that was for other people. That wasn’t me.
I made a left on Century and drove west to LAX. Naturally, traffic crawled to a standstill. I adjusted the volume on my radio, and froze when “Jingle Bell Rock” blasted through my speakers.
A vision of Chet singing at the top of his lungs hit me out of the blue. The happy memory tugged at my heart just as a “Ski Mammoth” billboard popped up.