Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
“A what?”
“A backyard—with a lawn and a deck and a grill where I’d stand flipping burgers while my kids hung off a playscape like monkeys. I wanted that life—and I wanted it with her.”
Rolling onto my back on the rug, I stared at the ceiling.
“I take it your question means you have feelings for Mabel?”
I swallowed. “I do, I just . . . don’t know what they are. Or what to do with them.”
“Is dating her out of the question?”
“Kind of. From the beginning, we said we’d just be friends.”
“Well, that’s kind of what you do when you’re a mature, single adult with feelings for another mature, single adult. You date.”
“I know. But how are we supposed to date when she lives all the way up here and I’m in Chicago or on the road? And who knows where I’ll be next year?”
“That’s tough.” He was silent for a moment. “I guess you just have to decide how serious your feelings are.”
“I have no idea. For all I know, I could be inventing these feelings. We’ve only been together in person a handful of times. The rest of it has been long-distance. I mean, maybe I’m idealizing her because we’re not together all the time.”
“What’s it like when you’re together?”
“Easy,” I said. “I don’t know how else to describe it. It’s just fucking easy.”
Hudson waddled over to me and sat on my chest. Laughing, I grabbed him and lifted him high above me like an airplane. He laughed and kicked and squealed with delight.
“Do we ever get to meet her?” Paul asked.
“Yes.” I set Hudson down and sat up. “She’s actually driving down here in the morning. I invited her to come for Christmas dinner.”
“Tell her to be careful. We’re supposed to get a good amount of snow tomorrow.”
I frowned. “I didn’t know that. When?”
“I think it’s going to start late tonight. Alison is all excited about a white Christmas. Hudson will be able to make a snowman this year. Right, buddy? No, no, don’t touch that cord.” Paul went racing across the room and swept his toddler away from a power strip. “Jesus. I better get him out of here. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
Jumping to my feet, I went into the kitchen to find my phone and check the weather. Sure enough, a winter storm was heading our way. After saying goodbye to my brother and nephew, I went up to my bedroom and made a quick phone call.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Bill, sorry to call you on Christmas Eve. But I wondered if I might make a last-minute change to the delivery schedule.”
“So not tonight?”
“No. Would you mind delivering it on the twenty-sixth instead? Exact same plan, just two days later.”
“No problem. In fact, that’s even easier. What time?”
I thought for a moment. “Would morning work?”
“I can have it there by nine a.m.”
“Perfect. Thanks, Bill. I appreciate this.”
“No problem. Anything for an old teammate! Merry Christmas, Joe.”
“Merry Christmas.” Then I called Mabel.
“Hey! You made it home,” she said when she picked up.
“I did. Flight was a little bumpy. I thought of you.”
“Did the person next to you spew a bunch of hideously embarrassing things?”
“No. He slept the whole time.”
“Lucky you.”
“Listen, I heard it’s supposed to snow tomorrow. I checked the weather and it looks like the storm is going to hit us after midnight, which might make driving shitty in the morning.”
“Yeah, I saw that too. But it’s okay. Austin checked my tires recently and said they were good enough for the winter. I’ll go slow.”
“I’m coming to get you.”
“Joe, you don’t have to do that.”
“You heard what I said.”
She clucked her tongue. “Okay, Dad.”
That made me smile. “How’s your Christmas Eve?”
“Good! Just about to leave to go over to my father’s. How’s yours?”
“Good. I wrapped presents, played with my nephew Hudson, and realized for the first time how hazardous a Christmas tree is for toddlers.”
She laughed. “It is. Are you spending tonight at home?”
“No, my mom and dad and I are going to Abelard Vineyards.”
“Oh, I’ve been there! It’s beautiful. What’s happening there?”
“It’s owned by Gianni’s in-laws, the Fourniers. My mom and Mia Fournier have been best friends for like a hundred years—she already went over there to help cook. But my dad must be making something to bring, too, because I hear him singing in the kitchen, and I smell onion and garlic.”
“Mmmm. What’s he making?”
“Probably something with fish, since that’s traditional for Italians on Christmas Eve. What does your family do?”
“The usual American thing—ham and potatoes and green bean casserole. No one in my family is a particularly great cook, but it will be fun just being all together. The kids will open their gifts, which is always a riot to watch.” She paused. “It’s kind of crazy to think about next Christmas, isn’t it? The baby will be here.”