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“Cheater.” Alex swatted at him.
“It’s just a little something. Close your eyes.”
Mark only had five minutes to spare, so she didn’t put up a fight. All the rustling and crinkling raised her eyebrows.
“Now open.”
Four large packages of Twizzlers rested on the table—strawberry, and black licorice twists.
Alex squealed and snatched a package to her chest. “I’ve been having sugar shakes. How’d you find them?”
Mark beamed. “A friend brought them back from the States. I’ve had them for two months, waiting for the best time to give them to you. Thank goodness for lengthy expiration dates.”
“Would that friend be Naomi?”
He nodded, his grin fading. “Yeah, Naomi…” He cleared his throat. “She really is just a friend. Nothing more.”
Alex bowed her head. “I know.” Her eyes glowed, and a slight giggle escaped from her lips.
A smile meandered across Mark’s face as he lifted his backpack to his shoulder. He exhaled slowly, hesitant to look away.
“Wait. I have something for you, too.” Alex slid a Christmas card across the table. “Lucy used to call me the ‘Card Lady’ because I never missed an occasion to mail a handwritten card. I’d hit all of them—birthdays, Easter, Christmas. Although that nickname’s probably dust now. I couldn’t afford to send any this year.”
Mark tucked the red envelope into his jacket pocket. “Do you mind if I save it until Christmas morning? It will give me something to look forward to.”
“If that’s the highlight of your Christmas morning, times are tough,” said Alex.
He chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Good things come in small packages, right, Mouse?”
She blushed.
He pulled his duffel bag closer to his seat and slipped his other arm through the backpack strap.
An empty, sinking feeling overwhelmed Alex. If her heart pounded any harder, the British Geological Survey might issue an earthquake warning. She stared at his lips and curled her fingers around the edge of her chair.
“Mark, before you go, I…” She leaned in, her lips parting slightly. “…I just want to wish you a Merry Christmas.” She tossed her arms around his shoulders. He met her hug with a warm squeeze. She closed her eyes, deflated. Not the holiday greeting she planned to deliver. Bottled it.
Pulling away, she looked up at him. “Thanks for everything. I’ll see you on the other side?”
“Definitely. Enjoy Manchester and make sure Freddie behaves.” Mark picked up his duffel bag and set off. At Kitchen’s entrance, he looked back over his shoulder. Alex waved with a sigh.
He turned around again, this time kissing his palm and waving the captured smooch her way.
Thirty-Three
“Happy Christmas, kids. Having you here’s the best gift.” Joan beamed at Alex, Lucy, and Freddie as she sipped a can of lager. “Anyone else fancy some cheer?”
Freddie shot up from the floor, a pair of fuzzy reindeer antlers jiggling atop his head; the comical accessory contradicted his dressy white shirt, red smoking jacket, and black trousers. “Drinking at 11 a.m.? I like your style, Joan.”
He whipped into the kitchen where Helen and Michael toiled away, the mouth-watering aroma of turkey cooking in the oven hinting at the delicious meal to come.
“My first Christmas with you, age twenty-two. Crazy.” Alex hugged her gran tightly. “I need this after the year I’ve had.” A toasty fire glowed in the lounge’s fireplace while the Carpenters’ Christmas album warbled from the stereo.
“That’s the best part of the holidays. A clean slate’s just around the corner.” Lucy stooped down, marveling at the blanket of presents under the tree.
“No, the best part’s the grub.” Freddie returned to his fireside spot on the floor with an open beer in his hand. “Turkey, roast spuds, pigs in blankets, Yorkshire pudding—I haven’t had a traditional Christmas meal in…forever.”
“Don’t you go home, love?” Joan took pride of place on the cushy sofa. She was bundled in a blue and white Fair Isle sweater, an early Christmas gift from Helen.
