“Okay.” Her normal smile returned. “I seriously told them no presents. They don’t listen.”
“I bet you’re real stern with them.”
She snapped her gaze to me, her eyes holding a spark of fire.
“What?” I held up my hands in surrender.
“I’m stern with them, thank you very much. We’ve had almost zero incidents with the law since I’ve been their house mom, and they wouldn’t dare break the rules.”
“Becca Ratched, huh?”
“Oh, shut up.” She threw a pillow at me, and I caught it with a huge grin on my face.
I could picture her trying to yell at one of the dumb teenagers, her hair all in her face and red splotches on her cheeks. It was a pretty picture.
“You saidalmostzero incidents,” I teased, enjoying myself more than I had in weeks. “Why not zero?”
She ran her fingers through her hair a few times, her shoulders slumping a bit. “My first year, we had a pair of party girls who needed to rethink their priorities. One night, they decided they’d do a naked run for charity.”
“Shit.” I shuddered.
“I know.” She nodded. “They didn’t get enough buy-in from the house so they decided to do it on their own. Shocking no one, they received public nudity tickets. As house mom, I was written up for not laying down the law. Oh boy, I was fumed.”
“I’d love to see you fumed.” I pictured it in my head: her soft features hardening… her eyes narrowing… Refocusing, I cleared my throat. “I bet you were upset.”
“I was. I learned a lot about leading and listening. Some days, I think about going back to school to be a counselor. One of the best conversations I’ve had in this position was with those two girls after it happened. It was hard—emotional—and it took maturity from all of us to get through it, but it really changed my style of leadership.”
“That’s impressive, Becca. Seriously.” I cupped her chin again and nodded to affirm my words. “You’re a hell of a woman, and a leader.”
She blushed and turned away from me.
In the comfortable silence, I passed her the gifts, and a weird sensation of pride struck me. She cultivated respect and a healthy atmosphere in a house of fifty college girls.Something I can’t figure out with the guys in my program.
Taking her time with each present, she opened each gift carefully to avoid ripping the wrapping paper.
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “Are you one of those people who saves all the wrapping paper? Do you fold it and keep it color coded underneath your bed?”
She made a goofy face and burst into another fit of giggles. “Uh, no. I’m not that organized. But it’s interesting you seem to know people do that. Do you have color coded things under your bed, Harrison?”
“Hell no. But my aunt used to save every scrap. I had a smart mouth, so I’d get assigned to sort the paper once present time was over.”
“Mm. I don’t believe you.” She smirked before opening the next gift. “Oh oh, how sweet!” She held up a mug with a picture of some girls on it. “These girls know I love my hot chocolate a little too much. I know it’s cheesy, but sometimes they feel like my younger siblings.”
The joy and simplicity of her words sparked an uncomfortable truth in my gut.I have issues with my brother.
Distance. I needed some distance from the conversation, so I stood and slapped my hands together. “Speaking of that, let me go make us some mugs to celebrate Christmas. We can finish up with gifts, shower, and head to my sister’s. Sound like a plan?”
“That’ll be great, Harrison! Thank you!” She smiled so big that it almost cured the weird nostalgia—or whatever bullshit it was I was feeling about my family. Almost, but not quite.
“Truck has gas, we have extra jackets, and our phones are charged. You’re ready to drive across town?”
“Yup.” She double-checked her seat belt and wrapped her fingers around the oh-shit handle above her passenger window. “Totally ready.”
“My truck is completely safe and has four-wheel drive.” I patted her knee before backing out of the parking space and turning onto the road. My tires slid twice but gained traction within a couple seconds. My stomach bottomed out in fear, but I plastered on a calm smile and forced myself to relax. “See? No big deal.”
“Yup. Yup. Totally fine,” she said, her voice coming out more like a squeak.
She was not totally fine. I would’ve reached over and offered comfort, but removing even one hand from the wheel would’ve been idiotic. Luckily, there was no traffic in sight, probably because the roads were dangerous and it was horribly cold. The streets were an ice rink, and we were nothing more than a hockey puck. I voiced none of my concerns, though, because Becca was already tense—really fucking tense.
