I watch as Blue sits down in front of the tree, helping Claire pull out the presents while RJ sets the other bags down next to them. He drops onto the couch beside JJ and Cole, introducing himself before casting a glance over at my sister who closes her book and is watching her niece with a soft smile.
These are the moments I love, the ones that I worked so hard for.
My family and friends coming together in perfect harmony.
“I’m proud of you,” my father says from behind me, causing me to jump. I hadn’t heard the door open.
“Thank you,” I tell him softly, stepping into the hug he offers.
“Your mother would be proud, too.”
I nod softly into his shoulder as he squeezes me. Each year without my mother gets easier, but the holidays are always the hardest. I see her everywhere; at the stove cooking, in the living room decorating, yelling at us from down the hall for not helping, smiling at us from the couch as we opened presents, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a cup of coffee in her hand and a young Neve in her lap.
“I miss her,” I whisper, my arms tightening around my father’s waist.
“Me too.” That familiar sadness seeps into his voice at the mention of her. “Me too, honey.”
The sound of feet hitting the floor interrupts us and I step back, collecting myself as Claire runs into the room. She leaps into her grandfather’s arms, hugging him tightly around the neck as he laughs.
“How’s my favorite girl?” He asks as she pulls back to look at him.
“I’m great,” she responds before she wiggles her way out of his arms. Once she is on her own two feet, she grabs his hand and starts dragging him toward the living room. “Come look at how many of the gifts are for me.”
I laugh as I trail behind them, standing behind the couch as I watch him crouch beside her and nod as she points out her gifts. Cole suddenly stands from his seat on the couch, coming around to stand beside me as everyone else continues to watch and laugh as Claire excitedly chats away.
“She’s sure something,” he says with an amused chuckle, and I nod in agreement. “Can tell that came from you instead of her father.”
“I’m going to choose to take that as a compliment.” I laugh, my nose scrunching up slightly. “She definitely got some of her father’s qualities, though.”
I can feel Cole staring at me as I watch my little girl for a heartbeat longer before I meet his gaze. “Where is he, anyway?”
Instead of responding, I turn on my heel and walk back into the kitchen to check on the ham. Clicking the button to turn on the light in the oven, I open the door and stick the thermometer into the center to make sure it’s done cooking. I slip on my oven mitts and carefully pull it out, placing it on the metal grates I sat on top of the stove. Once the mitts are off my hands, I turn around and see Cole has followed me into the kitchen and is sitting on a barstool at the island.
“He’s in rehab,” I say, answering his previous question.
Cole’s eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t look at me with sympathy like most people do. Rather, he looks at me with admiration. “Wow, you’re handling yourself so well. Most people in your situation wouldn’t.”
“Well,” I say as I brace my hands behind me to lean against the countertop. “It’s not exactly a choice. Would I rather he never let himself fall so low that he neglected his family and had to go to rehab in the first place? Absolutely. But that’s not the hand I’ve been dealt. All I can do is play the cards that were handed to me, and those cards mean raising my daughter on my own and giving her the life that she deserves. Honestly, even though I don’t wish this addiction on him, I wouldn’t change much else.”
“I wish my mother had been more like you.” There’s such longing in his voice mixed with an underlying anger that I’m caught off guard by. But I just watch him, keeping silent, allowing him to decide whether he shares his story. “My father was an addict and alcoholic, too, and my mom left when I was pretty young. Couldn’t take his addiction anymore, which I don’t blame her for. I blame her for not taking me with her.”
I don’t say a word, nor do I look at him with pity. Cole looks up, an unreadable expression on his face as he says, “I think ifshe hadn’t left me there, my life would’ve turned out a hell of a lot different.”
“Some people aren’t meant to be parents.” He nods in agreement but doesn’t say another word, so I continue. “Being dealt a bad hand doesn’t mean you always have to play it. You can ask for a re-deal.”
“And what if it’s too late for that?” An unmistakable sadness creeps into Cole’s voice.
His openness and honesty isn’t something I’m used to, at least not in this short of a time of knowing someone—but I admire him for it. I lean forward and rest my hand over the top of his comfortingly. “I don’t think it’s ever too late. You just have to be brave enough to take a second chance when it’s handed to you.”
“You sound a lot like my best friend.” He shakes his head and smiles. “He’s always telling me it’s not too late to make sure I don’t become what my father did.”
“Well, Cole, your best friend sounds pretty damn smart to me.”
“Your daughter is lucky to have you.”
The words catch me off guard, but a smile creeps to my face as a blush tinges my cheeks. “That’s very sweet of you to say. Thank you.”
“Sorry for getting so heavy on you out of nowhere.” He pulls his hand out from under mine. “I’m sure this isn’t how you planned on spending your Christmas Eve.”
