“Deal!” they shout in unison as they clamber out of their chairs.
Once they’ve bolted upstairs, I head into the bedroom I once shared with my brother and dig into my suitcase. The gift—Grimm’s Fairy Tales, wrapped with care by Maya—is still tucked safely inside.
At the thought of her, a mixture of discomfort and longing flows through me. I should’ve texted her back, but I considered how to respond for so long that when I finally decided what to say, too much time had passed for it to not be awkward. I’m not the best texter, anyway, so I figure I’ll swing by the Book Nook, apologize for more or less ghosting her, and ask for another chance.
I’ve probably put far too much thought into the plan. It’s not like I’m asking for her hand in marriage. I can practically hear Nathan telling me to stop being a “bitch ass” and ask her out. My brother never let his career get in the way of his social life, that’s for sure.
Lily bursts into my room wearing pajamas covered in smiling butterflies. “Is that my present?”
With a nod, I tuck it under my arm. “Let’s go get your sister, and we can open it together.”
She latches on to my hand and leads me to the bedroom they’re staying in. Violet’s already tucked under the frilly floral comforter, so Lily climbs in beside her and pats the empty spot between them.
It takes effort, especially after the massive quantity of food I consumed at dinner, but I manage to wedge my tall frame between their tiny bodies.
I hold out the wrapped book while they tear the paper with unfiltered joy, each working on her own side. “It’s a book of fairy tales.”
“Ooh,” they murmur. Lily traces the gold-foiled flowers and vines etched onto the cover while Violet runs a reverent hand along the pages.
“Will you read one to us, Uncle Coley?” Lily asks, flipping the book open to a random page.
The Juniper Treeis written in a fancy cursive font at the top. Although I’ve never heard of the story, I agree. Lily snuggles into me as I begin. Quickly, though, it becomes clear to me that this is not the innocent fairy tale I thought it was.
“Why’d you stop?” Violet asks halfway through.
Maybe because the stepmom beheads the son and sticks his head in a box and then turns him into black pudding?
“Uh, sorry,” I cough out an excuse. “I lost my place.”
Instead of continuing to read, I bullshit my way through the rest of the story. Instead of using an apple to trick and kill him, I tell the girls that the stepmother feeds him so many apples that he becomes as strong as a tree. I truly don’t know what the fuck comes out of my mouth, but my nieces love it and soon demand another story.
I discover quickly that the original stories fromGrimm’s Fairy Talesare indeed grim. Very grim. And so the pattern continues, and I create off-the-cuff stories in a way I didn’t know was possible.
I learn that Cinderella’s stepsisters get their eyes pecked out by birds and that the prince inSnow Whiteis a necrophiliac corpse thief. Thankfully Lily and Violet are too interested in the hand-drawn images on the pages to question my versions.
“Uncle Coley?” Lily taps on my arm, motioning me to bend down.
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
Her lips tip up in a small smile. “I’m happy you’re home.”
Without Nathan, home will never truly feel like it once did, but I kiss my niece’s blond head anyway and say, “Me, too.”
CHAPTER NINE
cole
“Slow down, boy.”
Tugging on Goose’s leash does me no good. He zigs and zags across the sidewalk, chasing each new smell like he’s a detective on a case. The late November winds bite the skin not covered by my jacket as we pass one locally owned shop after another. We pass a bakery, dispensary, deli, and two coffee shops before I spot the book-shaped wooden sign readingBook Nook.
“Heel,” I demand, my tone firm. “Goose. Heel.”
When hefinallylistens, I bend down and scratch behind his ears. “That’s a good boy. You ready to wingman me?”
He sniffs the front door, which is as good a response as any. According to the website, the Book Nook is dog-friendly—a bonus since I’m banking on Goose to help soften Maya. Logan spent Thanksgiving with the Silver family and reported back that Goose has a crush on Maya.Like father, like son.He didn’t even whine for food; he was just happy to snuggle up against her.
Inside, the dry scent of paper and pine shelving washes over me. Maya’s easy to spot, tucked behind the front desk, with her head bent over a thick book, her hair cascading in curls around her shoulders.
