Page 61 of The Christmas Box

I’m shaken, though, unsure how to feel.

When I was concerned she might want something serious with me, it made me pull back. And even if I’ve decided to quit worrying about that so much…this isbig.

But one day at a time, right?Worry about the steps in front of you today, not the whole journey.It’s the only response I can muster right now, even after what I just read. And it’s not like I have todosomething about her wish. Sure, I’ve gotten into the wish-granting business lately, but this one I can let ride.

When she hangs up, she turns to face me with, “Have you eaten? I’m starved. I could whip something up at my place.”

“Thanks,” I tell her, “but I have to run. I have to take down a big sign near the expressway before morning.” I wonder if I look ill-at-ease. Since I suddenly kind of am.

Her eyes widen. “It’s that urgent?”

“Actually, yeah. Because it’s a little bit illegal.” I’m holding my thumb and index finger close together. “A rogue Santa’s work is never done.”

Appearing surprised and now mildly worried, she begins shooing me. “Then go. Get moving.” Then her eyes widen. “But do you need help? Because I can go with you.”

“Nope, I’ve got it all under control,” I assure her, heading for the door, unexpectedly glad to be leaving.

As I reach it, though, she stops me with, “Travis.”

I look over my shoulder to see her walking toward me. And before I know what’s happening, she lifts one hand to my cheek and plants a soft, warm kiss on the other. It moves all through me.

“Thank you, again,” she says. “You literally saved Christmas. Or the Christmas Box anyway. I’m so used to being on my own, and…well, no one’s ever done anything like this for me before. I’ll never forget what you did today.”

December 22

Travis

The next morning I sleep late. I deserve it.

When I finally open my eyes, I find a scruffy white dog standing on the bed staring down at me.

“What?” I say. “A guy can’t sleep in after a hard night’s work? I bet you don’t see Santa’s dog givinghimthat kind of look on Christmas morning.” Then she paws at my arm, and I understand. “Oh, I get it. It’s past the princess’s breakfast hour. Looks like I’ve spoiled you in record time.”

But then I reach out and run my hand through her fur, scratching the way I know she likes. “I think Lexi’s in love with me,” I say without segue.

She doesn’t answer, of course.

But me, I keep going, apparently needing to get some stuff off my chest. “She wants me to stay here. She wants…well, what most people want, I guess. And she’s a great girl. And this place is…better than I remember.

I let out a sigh. “Still, there’s a lot being thrown at me fast here, you know? I have you to worry about now, and Dad to worry about, and…I came here not feeling responsible for anybody but myself. How much is one guy supposed to take on over the course of a single December?”

That’s when my phone buzzes on the bedside table and I grab it to look. Helen’s calling.

“Hey, Helen,” I answer, tired but pleasant. “Thanks again for your help yesterday. Lexi thinks the shop will be fine now, so the hard work paid off.”

“I’m so glad to hear that,” she says, “but that’s not why I’m calling.” She sounds tense.

I hesitate, bracing myself, before asking, “What’s up?”

She hesitates, too. “It’s your dad, Travis. He’s stopped eating altogether since the day before yesterday. When that happens, it’s the body’s way of beginning to shut down.”

All the blood drains from my face as the harsh reality I’ve been dreading these past couple of weeks hits hard. “So this is it?”

“There’s no telling how long,” she says. “It could be a day, it could be a week. But you should come.”

I get up, take a shower, get dressed. I feed the dog and change her puppy pad. I take my time, moving methodically around the apartment. Maybe I’m just distracting myself. Maybe I’m taking a last few moments of normalcy and peace before whatever happens next.

As I step out into the cold, headed to the truck, I make a detour. Maybe it’s more putting-off-the-inevitable, but on a lark I cross the street to the Christmas Box. As the sleighbells announce my arrival, I question the decision, but it’s too late.

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