“She was coming home from a Christmas decoration making class she was running and?—”
Maise gasps.
Shit.God, Celeste,really?
I round the counter and hug her close. “That’s not what is happening here, okay? Your dad is a capable, brave man. And he has a really, really good reason to make it home.”
She looks up, the fear not abated from her face. “Christmas isn’t until tomorrow.”
I chuckle, but it’s strained, as a tear sails down my cheek. “No, kiddo. You. You’re his reason.”
She studies my face for a beat before adding, “And you, too. He hastworeasons now.”
Tears are pouring down my stupid face and I scrunch it up, trying to stem the flow. It doesn’t help, so I cuddle Maise close. When we’ve both recovered, I pour the cocoa and we decide to watch a Christmas movie on the flat-screen that barely gets used in the living room.
“Oh, I forgot something,” I say, jumping up and walking to the foyer. Grabbing the basket I brought over, I leave it covered up, returning to the sofa and plopping onto the cushions. “It’s a little late, but since we are sentries at our Christmas post, we could use a treat.” I hand her a candy apple.
Her brown eyes light up, wide with joy. “Daddy will be mad I’m having candy so late...”
She unwraps the paper from the apple regardless. I open one for myself and take a bite. It’s sweet, tangy, and so juicy. The crisp crunch of the apple is euphoric.
Red candy sticks to Maisey’s lips, and she licks them as she devours the apple. Delight wraps her features. And I take note of the small moment of happiness after hours of waiting and worrying.
We settle in. The animated Christmas movie takes over, the long day finally taking its toll as we relax into the soft sofa cushions. Just around the midpoint of the movie, Maise slumps against me, her eyes closed.
“Night, sweet girl.”
I watch the rest of the movie and another starts. I glance at the clock.
11:15 p.m.
Come on, Quinnie.
A cityscape under a snow blanket decorated with too much Christmas flair bursts onto the screen. I let my eyes fall shut... just for a moment.
The sofa bobs and rocks. Something thuds rhythmically below me. I jerk awake.
“Hey, you’re okay, baby.” Warm lips press to my forehead. Arms cradle me to a wall of chest. Then, blue eyes shine down at me.
“Quinnie, you’re home?” I breathe.
“Yeah, baby. I’m home.”
“I was so worried.” My voice breaks.
The staircase disappears and he rounds the banister, heading for his room. “Sorry it took me so long.”
My hands gravitate to his jaw. He dips his head, his mouth on mine. Breaking away, he rumbles, “Mmmm, candy.”
I giggle. Red candy is smudged on his mouth. Which means it must be...
“Oh shit. Is it all over my face?”
He chuckles. “Just a little.”
I gasp, lifting up out of his arms a little way with a start. “Maise.”
“She’s already in bed. And her face looks worse than yours.” He nips at my lips, my chin, and my cheek.
