“That would be…” Long. Expensive. I swallow those words. “Incredible.”
“We’ll probably need to find a way to fund it,” he says, rubbing his chin. “I’ve thought of selling something from the van. Could get on with one of those makeup companies or the like.”
“Multi-level marketing schemes are probably not your answer. But I hope you find something lucrative.” I finish my signature and tear the cheque away. “Tell me, Dad, why were you in here the other night when you have a laptop with you?”
His cheeks turn pink. “Just a little curiosity, really. Nothing to worry about now.”
He was snooping. “If you want to see the new books I’m working on?—”
“Nothing like that.”
Ah. Probably my finances, then. Something deep in my gut tells me that once I hand over this money, my parents will have what they came for, and I won’t see them for a long while. But the other part of me wants to believe that a little of what I said got through to them, and that they’ll stick around for Christmas.
Or is that just hope? Me wanting them towantto stick around.
I take a deep breath and stand, handing it over. “Nollaig Chridheil,Dad.”
He takes the cheque. “Merry Christmas.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CALLIE
There wasa fresh dusting of snow overnight, and the entire world outside looks like it was set under a powdered sugar shaker and evenly covered. The muddy tire tracks and footprints that led to the barn are missing, and everything is wiped clean. I lean my forehead against the window in my bedroom so I can see further in front of the house. The spot Gavin’s parents had parked their truck is empty, with no tire tracks in the snow.
They must have left last night and not returned. Does that mean their conversation didn’t go well? Gavin never came downstairs after talking to them. I heard the shower going at one point, then he disappeared into his room. My family played a few games before calling it quits, too, after Mom dug out our stockings and hung them all on the mantel.
The only one missing now is Gavin’s, but I still need to get my hands on one for him. I’m not going to hang the stocking he grew up with. I have plans. If we were home, I’d pull out Mom’s sewing machine and get to work, but here I need to be sneakier. I’m hoping to recruit some local help.
The text I sent Gavin last night is still sitting on my phone unanswered. He loved it, but sent no return text.
Callie
I’m here if you need anything
No sounds have come from his room this morning, but it’s still early. And it’s Christmas Eve. I’m not going to let anything ruin today.
I tug on a green cable knit sweater over my white T-shirt and slip on some gold hoops before heading downstairs. The living room is already toasty from the fire. Oliver is running circles around the rug with an airplane, making noises I’m sure are meant to be flying sounds. Rhys and Luna snuggle on the armchair.
“Good morning,” I say.
Luna yawns. “No one else is up yet. Oliver thought today was Christmas when he saw the stockings, so that was fun.”
“Poor guy.” I’m antsy to see Gavin. Is it inappropriate to knock on his bedroom door? Yes. Okay, I know the answer to that one already.
“You’re distracted,” Rhys says. “Do you want some breakfast?”
“If you’re cooking, the answer is always yes.”
He leans over to kiss his wife before disentangling himself and stretching. “I’d planned a full English today. But I’ll leave the sausage off for you lot.”
“We like sausage,” Luna says. “Unless you picked up the nasty one.”
He grins. “Don’t worry, love. I have bacon.”
Once he’s gone into the kitchen, Luna sighs. “Blood sausage is one thing I willneverget on board with. Food shouldn’t be metallic.”
The door opens again. “To each their own.”
