Page 32 of The Christmas Box

Since Dad is in bed, as usual, I heft Marley into my arms so he can pet her. Like everyone else here, he’s fawning over her like crazy, and she’s licking at him excitedly. “What a sweetie,” he keeps saying. “What. A. Sweetie.”

I spend a couple hours going back and forth between walking Marley around the manor and hanging out with Dad.

It’s as I’m telling him I need to get back to town and put some hours in on the soap shop, but that I’ll bring him his usual burger tomorrow, that he asks me to take some pictures of the work I’m doing so he can see it. I’ve shown him photos of some of my other custom jobs and he’s been impressed.

“Never would’ve become a carpenter without you teaching me when I was a kid,” I admit to him.

That’s when I watch a sense of pride come over him that I’ve never witnessed before. “We had some nice times out in the woodshop back then, didn’t we?”

I think of the sailboat. And a hundred other projects, a hundred other moments—all things long put out of my mind until recently. “We did,” I agree.

Behind us in the doorway, I hear Gabbi talking with Helen. “I have to work Friday night, so I’ll miss it.”

“That’s a shame,” Helen replies.

I have no idea what they’re talking about—and neither does Dad, because he asks in a teasing tone, “Whatcha gonna miss just to hang out here withme?”

“Christmas Fest,” Gabbi says, stepping in to the room. “You going, Travis?”

“Oh, I doubt it,” I say. I heard the ladies at the gingerbread bash talking about it, too, some big to-do at the park next to the Christmas Box, but... “Not really my kinda thing.”

“Oh, you oughta go,” Dad insists. “It’s real nice. Whole town comes out.”

I’m thrown to hear this since I wouldn’t have guessed it was his idea of a good time, either, but he’s just full of surprises lately.

“I don’t know,” I murmur, giving my head a light shake.

“Goodness knows I’d go ifIwas able,” he says.

Which is when Helen pipes up, suggesting, “You should take him, Travis.”

I turn to her, surprised, my interest freshly piqued. “I can do that?”

“Sure,” she answers. “People are more than welcome to take their loved ones on outings. It’s nice for anyone here to get a change of scenery—does wonders. You can fold up his wheelchair and put it in the bed of your truck, easy as pie.”

It’s still not my idea of fun, but I can’t imagine what it’s like being stuck here day in and day out. Even if Dad hasn’t been here long, it probablyfeelslong. And he doesn’t have much time left, so if he wants to go, I should take him.

“Would you like that?” I ask. “A night on the town in Winterberry?”

“You don’t think it’d be too hard to cart me around?” Suddenly, he’s Mr. Considerate-Of-Others.

I shrug. “I’m sure we can manage it together if you want to go.”

The words put a big smile on his face. “That’d be real nice, Trav.”

And as if on cue, Marley lets out a bark. “Sounds like she thinks it’s a good idea, too,” I say, “so it’s a date.”

Lexi

I haven’t seen Travis all day. He didn’t even come in for coffee this morning, and I can’t deny that I missed getting to smile into those breathtaking brown eyes. Yeah, breathtaking. That’s how I think of them now. I’ve given up fighting it, I suppose, whateveritmay be. Attraction. But also more. Though it’s still fruitless to think about that since he’ll only be here a short time.

Later, I saw him through the window, working in the storefront, and I forced myself not to stare lest he catch me at it.

I had a few customers, but it was another slow day—just too much snow, I guess.

Now I’m curled up on the couch after dark, Crinkle Bear at my side, getting ready to watch “Jingle All the Way”, one of my mom’s favorite silly Christmas movies. Outside, it’s snowing once again, and this time I’m not even surprised.

Reaching over, I pull Crinkle to me, remembering when my grandma gave him to me after my father’s November funeral. I couldn’t have dreamed she and Mom would be gone, too, before I even turned twenty-one.

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