Frosty hops up onto the sofa, nestling himself between us. I pet him with my free hand. She does the same and our hands rub against each other. A zing of electricity shoots through me.
“I’m sorry.”
Clara says nothing.
“When shit gets hard, I leave. It’s what I do,” I tell her bitterly. “But, I’m tired of running. I’m facing my problems and dealing with them like a man. I don’t deserve a woman like you, but I want to be that man who does.”
She jerks her head my way, eyebrows pinched together. “What? We can’t.”
“Why not?” I demand with a growl.
Her lip curls up as if she thinks I’m dumb for asking. “We’re family, remember?”
I burst out laughing. “Not a good enough reason.”
“Are you insane?” she hisses, glancing over her shoulder. “They’ll hear you. We’re already in enough trouble over this.”
I take her hand in mine and refuse to let go. At first, she glowers at me as she tries to remove it, but eventually gives up with a long sigh. I relax and stroke her hand with my thumb. This feels right. Fucking terrifying, but right.
I’m tired of being a coward.
Dad walks back into the room and I tense up, but don’t let go of Clara’s hand. I meet his gaze with a firm stare of my own. He smirks. Yolanda follows him and winks my way.
“Who’s ready for presents?” Dad calls out.
Everyone cheers. Even Clara. Even Frosty.
The living room is a mess and gifts are strewn everywhere. My chest is warm with happiness. I can’t believe I missed out on this for years.
Clara’s favorite gift is the one I got for her. It’s a zip-up onesie with snowflakes all over it. She wanted to change into it, butI asked her to hold off. I still have a surprise for her and she needs to be dressed for it. Hopefully, later, I’ll get the pleasure of unzipping her like a gift.
“I need to show you something,” I say to her, taking her hand again. “Put on your coat and shoes.”
She frowns but nods. I’m grateful she’s not icing me out. Ma was right. Hot chocolate fixes everything. The entire family pulls on their outerwear and we head outside.
Yolanda went outside ahead of us and turned on the lights, so by the time we make it there, the green and red lights blink happily, beckoning us over.
“Is that a…food truck?” Clara asks, confusion in her tone.
“Yup. Come check it out.”
We make our way over to the small thing. After my talk with Yolanda and Dad earlier today, and their ultimate blessing to be with Clara, Yolanda and I impulsively bought a food truck.
“You like it?” Yolanda asks her daughter, beaming out the window. “Come look inside. It’s awesome.”
The girls race ahead of us and Dad grunts at their unending energy. Clara steps onto the food truck and gasps.
“It’s so cute! Why did you buy a food truck, Mom?” she asks as she opens a cabinet to peek inside.
I hug Clara from behind. At first she’s stiff, and then she melts against me. The girls make gagging sounds until Dad tells them to knock it off.
“She and I did a thing,” I say with a chuckle, hugging her to my side so she can see her mother. “We’re going into business together.”
She whirls around to face me, eyes wide with confusion. “What?”
I cup her cheeks with my hands. “I’m not leaving, sass. And, if you’ll ever forgive me, I want to make us official.”
Dad mumbles something about “never getting used to this,” but Yolanda shushes him.
