Chapter Thirteen
“Yeah, we’ve got supplies and stuff, so it’s not a big deal,” Grant said, glancing over at where Sunny was staring out the window. “I’m sorry about this. I never even thought of it.”
“You don’t control the weather,” Julia said kindly, her tone alotmore forgiving than Grant had expected.
Julia had infinite patience with him, but this was his second screw-up in a row. The fact that he didn’t control the weather didn’t mean he couldn’t have foreseen this.
He should have looked up the forecast for the area the cabin was in, or at least the average snowfall, or even managed to have the thought that if there was going to be snow, it waspossiblethat there’d be too much.
On the other hand, Sunny obviously hadn’t expected this either, or he would have warned Grant about it. So maybe Grant wasn’t atotalidiot.
“I just miss you guys,” Grant said. “I wanted the perfect Christmas for Hope. She deserves it. I’ve been a crappy dad this year.”
“You’re doing your best,” Julia said softly. “And we’re all happy and safe in a nice hotel, just waiting for the road to clear so we can come up. We’ll see you soon.”
Grant sighed. He really wanted to believe that, so he didn’t argue.
At least cell reception was still fine. It wasn’t as though he was going to completely lose touch with his family.
As guilty as Grant felt that Sunny was stuck here, part of him was glad. Not being alone meant that instead of panicking, he was just disappointed.
Sunny made everything better.
Grant was still thinking about Sunny calling him perfect earlier. Or, well, he’d called himnotperfect, but in a way that implied he’d been perfect up to that moment.
And he hadn’t sounded serious about runny egg yolks being a dealbreaker, either.
“I hope so,” Grant said. “Tell Hope I love her, I know she’s in bed by now.”
“She knows you love her, but I’ll tell her. I’m gonna head that way myself, it’s been a long day. Goodnight, Grant.”
“Night,” Grant murmured, trying to keep his disappointment to a minimum.
He tucked his phone in his pocket once Julia hung up, heading over to look out the window with Sunny.
“I’m sorry you’re missing out on spending time with your family,” Sunny said as Grant approached him.
“Sorry about yours, too. You didn’t have to be here.”
“I wanted to be. And I’m glad you’re not stuck here on your own, either.”
“Me too,” Grant admitted. “Being stuck aside, it is kinda pretty out there.” He nodded to the view, watching falling snowflakes twinkle as the moonlight hit them.
The snow had at least slowed down. That was something.
“I was just thinking that it looks like a Bob Ross painting,” Sunny said.
Grant chuckled at that. “If you told me this was Alaska, I’d believe you.”
“I used to love watching him when I was little. I always thought I’d like to paint when I was older,” Sunny said.
“Did you ever try?” Grant asked.
“I tried.” Sunny shrugged. “Turns out I have absolutely no natural talent and I didn’t really care enough to practice. I still sometimes watch old episodes on Netflix, though.”
“I used to listen to late-night reruns when I was in college, to fall asleep when I was really stressed,” Grant said. “Which makes me sound so goddamnold.”
Sunny turned to face him, frowning. “You’re really not that old,” he said, his tone serious. “Not that being old is inherently bad, I just… I wish you weren’t so hard on yourself.”
