Inside, the place smelled like coffee, oil, and old leather.Comfortable.Familiar.A couple of guys were playing pool.Another group sat around the big table arguing about something that sounded important to them and irrelevant to the rest of the world.
I grabbed a mug and poured coffee that was definitely too strong and lukewarm.
“You’re early,” X said and leaned back in his chair.“Thought you were braving the bakery lines today.”
“I did,” I said.“Mission accomplished.”
“How was it?”
I took a sip.“Worth it.”
That earned me a look.X knew me well enough to hear what I wasn’t saying.
I didn’t volunteer more.Not yet.
Instead, I pulled my phone out and scrolled through my recent calls until I found the one I wanted.
“Hey, Ma,” I said when she picked up.“You home?”
“Of course I’m home,” she said.“I’m wrapping presents and watching that movie you hate.”
I smiled despite myself.“I got your gingerbread house.”
Her gasp was loud enough that Buddy looked over from across the room.“You did not.”
“I did,” I said.“Custom.Pickup Friday.”
“Oh, Saint,” she said.“That’s perfect.”
“It will be.”
She paused.“You sound… distracted.”
I leaned against the counter, and my eyes swept the room automatically.“Just tired.”
“You do too much,” she said, like she always did.
“Who else was going to bring you a crazy custom gingerbread house?”
She laughed.“Bring it by when you get it.And Saint?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
I hung up before she could say anything else sentimental.
X watched me with interest.“Your mom?”
“Yeah.”
“She still decorating like the apocalypse is coming?”
“Worse,” I said.“She bought inflatable reindeer.The front yard is a spectacle.”
He winced.“I’m sorry.”
I took another drink of coffee and finally set the mug down.“I need a favor.”
