“Hey, Fletch.”
I glance up at the familiar voice.
Herb Parnell—retired chief, walking legend, and the man who basically raised half our crew—claps a hand on my shoulder and squeezes.
“Heard you picked up every shift from now 'til Boxing Day. Trying to make ‘em all look bad?”
I huff a low laugh. “Mom’s out in St. John’s with her sister this year,” I say, rolling my glass between my palms. “So I’m just helping the guys out. They’ve got families, I don’t.”
He narrows his eyes. “You’ve got us.”
My gaze drops back to my drink while Herb shrugs off his coat and takes the stool beside me.
“You working again tonight?”
“Yeah.”
“And tomorrow?”
“Off by seven.”
He nods, thoughtful. “We do a late Christmas lunch. Three o’clock. Gives folks time to crash after the overnight. Leah and I are used to it—spent enough years working shifts ourselves, so we never saw the point in moving it earlier.”
I blink, caught off guard.
“You should come after you’ve had a nap,” he says. “Leah would love it. Tamara and Eli are coming, they don’t make it up much. Tamara’s sister’ll be with them. And I’m pretty sure Lulu’s showing up with her new fiancé, Logan Miller. He’s one of Eli’s teammates,” Herb pauses to chuckle. “So you can imagine howthrilledEli is.”
I haven’t seen Lulu Parnell in a couple years, but had heard through the Maplewood gossip mill she’d recently been attached to an NHL player.
She’s sunshine in a bottle, and Eli’s always been protective of her—so if she’s engaged to one of his own linemates, I can imagine Eli’s been walking around ready to combust.
“Sure you want more chaos?”
“You’re not chaos, Fletch.” He gives me a look. “You’re family. Come eat. Drink. Be human.”
Emotion makes my throat feel thick, and my fingers tighten around my glass.
“You’ve gotta stop punishing yourself, bud,” Herb says, voice softer. “Don’t spend every Christmas miserable just because one of them went to hell.”
I’m still not sure I’ll commit, but I nod anyway. “Alright. I’ll be there.”
“Good man.” Herb slaps the bar once, then stands. “Don’t make me come find you.”
Chapter five
Frankie
The Parnell house smells like heaven. Cinnamon, roast potatoes, and whatever alchemy Leah uses in her gravy that makes people volunteer to do dishes unprompted.
I step through the door behind Tamara, who met me at the GO station with a dramatic sigh about how she’d sacrificed her entire afternoon of wine intake just to pick me up.
The sisterly martyrdom is strong with this one.
She breezes past the kitchen, calling something over her shoulder as she disappears toward the living room, laughing at something Eli appears to be bothered by.
The Parnells at Christmas is like stepping into a snow globe: twinkling lights, comfortable chaos, and that golden hum of being somewhere safe and familiar. Somewhere that once saved you.
“Frankie!” Leah Parnell swoops in with a hug that smells of Chanel and sage stuffing. “Look at you—God, you’re all grown up.”
