Chapter One
Paxton
Christmas is big in my family.
So big that anyone who doesn’t show up may not be forgiven for an entire year. I’d never made that mistake, but my brother did once. It was sad. Oh, he was spoken to, but my parent never let a visit pass without a subtle reminder of how we missed him and kept his place at the table empty just in case he changed his mind and showed up.
Poor guy was in the Middle East on a deployment and had his leave canceled at the last minute, and though my mom was very proud of him, she just couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that the powers that be would ruin her plans. A fact made clear when she tried to get him to let her call his commanding officer and see if an exception could be made.
One of those family legends we laughed about now. But an object lesson to the rest of us. If the threat of a court martial wasn’t a good excuse, what was?
This year, for the first time, the prodigal son was almost me. A project at the office, a contract that had to be completed before the end of the year, ran behind. Meaning, nobody was cut loose to enjoy their holiday break until it was completed. And, with a promotion I’d been working toward looming in the coming year, it was not the time to be the one guy who made an excuse and left everyone hanging. Especially since I was the project leader and the delays—not my fault, had to do with international shipping—already made me look bad.
Each morning, I strode into the office, sure we would finish by the end of the day and each night I crawled home, after a cheerful lecture of reassurance to the team, eating a fast-foodmeal on the way so I could just shower and go to bed to wallow a little.
And then, one day when it took all I had to go in and pretend I thought we’d ever get done by the holiday, we were. I’d been trying to figure out how close I could cut it and still get home. Flying wasn’t an option since my folks lived just far enough away that it took most of a day to drive. But by the time I flew from the airport in our city to the one a hundred miles away from them, it would take longer than just getting in the car and going.
But all that worry, all the possible conversations with my mom about getting there late or, gods forbid, not at all, dissipated like a wisp of smoke. The company party had been two weeks’ before, and the only people left in the office were my group, but nobody suggested doing anything together before we lit out. They were gone so fast, I barely had time to wish them all a wonderful season before I stood alone, locking the office door before marching to the parking structure. My bag was in the car, as well as the gifts for my family, so I drove directly to the highway, proud to have completed the project within the contract requirements and relieved to be on the way to the family celebration.
As I gained speed, my thoughts left work behind and turned to the upcoming days spent with family and friends from my childhood. I might gripe and grumble about the visit being “required,” but in fact, I always enjoyed myself and with each mile I put behind me, my Christmas spirit grew. A scan of the radio stations found one with all carols, and I sang along for about ten minutes until my phone rang, and the name appearing on the dash screen was enough to make the song disappear from my lips.
What could my boss want now? I’d done everything laid out for me through the end of the year, although it had been a nearthing. Maybe he was calling to congratulate me for our success? I would definitely want to hear that.
Unlikely. My boss was more a negative feedback king.
Or maybe the fact we did not complete it sooner had earned me a lecture. One I could just as easily hear on my return from this holiday vacation. I considered ignoring the ring, but past experience had taught me that if I did, he’d just call back again. And again. And each dial would amp up any negative feelings he might be harboring.
With that in mind, I said, “Accept call.”
“Paxton, I believe you’re headed south? I have an assignment for you along the way.” No “please,” no “thank you,” no asking if it was convenient or anything silly like that. This man was used to hearing “yes, sir,” and anything different would probably shock the holly right out of what little jolly he possessed.
“Let me get off the highway and take this down.” Hoping it wasn’t going to make me late for any of the festivities, I put on the turn signal, but his next comment stopped me.
“No need for that. I’ll text you the details. Essentially, we are planning a work retreat for the spring, and I just learned nobody has had boots on the ground to make sure the potential location is acceptable.”
“No photos on the website?” Because of course there were, and I wouldn’t even have asked except I was annoyed. Already on a tight schedule, my mind had switched from employee hard at work to family member on the way to celebrate. Technically, Mom was in charge for the next days.
“Plenty, but you know how they can change those things. Photoshop and all. It would not do to have those western divisions show up to a substandard resort. As you recall, they were in charge last year, and the chosen accommodations were fairly good.”
Fairly good?
They were spectacular. A rustic resort on a cliff overlooking the Pacific with amazing food and seamless service. The company liked to pretend their retreats were almost camping, but nobody wanted to “rough it,” making it difficult to find places for the events.
“It should not be more than a half hour out of the way for you.”
“Gotcha. Consider it done.”
We spoke for another moment or two as he reminded me of what he wanted for the retreat before he disconnected. The audio text followed seconds later, letting me know it was indeed only a bit out of my way. Interesting that the boss knew where I was headed because I hadn’t told him. Of course, I had probably mentioned my hometown to others who could have passed it along—for no reason I could imagine.
In any case, I had to do it. No getting out of it despite the fact that they should not expect me to use my vacation time to do work. And asking at the holidays held an extra bit of rudeness. Ah well, do it, get it over with, and I’d be back on the road in no time. Climbing the ladder to success meant working long, hard hours—and sometimes I questioned whether it was worth it in the end.
It was still a beautiful winter’s day, and there was no point in being grinchy.
Setting GPS, I turned the carols back on and continued on my way. I knew more or less where I was going, but I didn’t have the spare time to miss a turnoff or otherwise make myself any later for the festivities. We joked about Mom being a dragon for the holidays, but the fact was she loved them and worked herself to a frazzle decorating and cooking and baking, and we would have a great time.
Chapter Two
Nico
