Clearing the table, I slip the letter into the back pocket of my jeans. When our coats are on and Maise is bundled up in a scarf and beanie, we leave the house. The truck rattles to life in the cold weather, and I let her run for a beat to warm up the engine.
“Can I go over to see Celeste when we get home? I need some BFF time. No offense, Daddy.” She pins me with a serious look, like I’ll say no if I take her at any less than her word.
“Sure, kiddo. Maybe we’ll see her at the sleigh ride.”
Maise pulls her belt on, and I reverse the truck onto the street. The snow-lined town with its two sets of traffic lights only has us driving for around five minutes before I turn the old girl into Maple Acres Farm.
Caleb’s family has been stupid busy with the holidays, between folks rolling in everyday to come pick out their perfect tree at the Christmas tree farm and the reindeer that now stand along the white wooden fence on the edge of the field.
I pull in by the big barn that also serves as a makeshift tree collecting spot. Maise is out of her booster seat a second later, the back door opening as she jumps down. Folks are rolling in, and many are already lining up inside the roped-off area up by the main farmhouse.
“Come on, Daddy, look how big the line is already!”
I’m dragged along until we join said line. Maise pouting as she discovers some of her school friends up ahead. But my head is anywhere but here.
Every worst-case scenario that could come to light with the letter burning a hole in my back pocket has me on edge and in my head. What the hell is Stella thinking?
She hasn’t seen Maise since the week she was born.
How the hell does she think this is going to work?
A soft hand slips into mine. But Maise is a few paces up, talking to someone she must know from school.
“Hey, Quinnie.”
Celeste’s cinnamon and floral shrouds me as she leans into my side.
“Hey.”
I glance at her, but I’m still lost to worry. Her hand squeezes mine, and it’s then I realize Hank is not with her. She came alone.
“Where’s Hank?” I ask, and the second the words leave my mouth her face falls. “Baby, what happened? Why didn’t you text me? Or come over?”
“He’s okay. But he’s...” She glances up the line, her gaze finding Maise before she reconnects with mine. “He’s not coming home.” Her chin wobbles.
“Ah fuck, Celeste. I’m so sorry.” I haul her into my arms, and she melts into my hold.
“I thought we had more time,” she says softly.
You and me both, baby.
She unravels from my hold in time to catch a rushing kid donning a beanie and rainbow scarf. She lifts Maise up, planting her on her hip. “Hey, sweetheart.”
“CC, you have to ride with us! Daddy, CC has to ride with us.”
“Sure, kiddo.”
I watch them together as Maise snuggles into Celeste and they chatter away about the farm and the reindeer.
It isn’t long before we hear sleigh bells and the clip-clop of hooves over the cold, hard ground. The entire crowd turns in one motion, the gasps and oohs and aahs echoing down the line. Maise squeals with delight, and CC chuckles at her, the smile so wide on her beautiful face, joy radiating from them both. And to an outsider, they would look like mother and daughter.
And that burns.
So damn bittersweet. Because if things go sideways, neither of my favorite girls will ever have the chance to have that together.
We wait for way too long as each group has a twenty-minute ride. The six reindeer, harnessed in red leather gear, elegantly walk on after collecting each new lot of passengers before breaking into a lope with Caleb at the reins.
Finally, we reach the front of the line.
