Page 38 of The Christmas Keeper

“He has you.”

I glanced at my little sister. She smiled right before her bottom lip started quivering. “Oh Nora, baby girl.”

“Stupid hormones,” she gasped as I gathered her close. “I’m just…all over the place…but I am so happy…you two have each other.”

Estee Lauder Modern Muse filled my sinuses as she sniffled into my shoulder. My dark inner voice of no self-confidence wanted to question just how long we would have each other, but I stuffed a sock into his mouth. Mentally. I was not going to dwell on dire what could happen. Along that path lay misery. Life was to be lived today.

“I’m happy we have each other too.” I kissed the top of her head, held her away from me, and made a stupid joke about her whining. She snorted like a hog. Everyone turned to look, which made both of us giggle like fiends.

“They’ve always been like that. Both of them find great humor in rude sounds that escape the human body,” Mom tutted.

“Well, honey, a good fart is a thing of beauty,” Dad tossed out. Kenan and Antoine laughed out loud as did Nora and I. Mom rolled her eyes. We had wine, and then dinner, and then some dessert. None of it was fancy, or expensive, but our bellies were full, and as my father likes to say that’s the important thing.

After the food, we took our glasses of wine, or decaf tea in Nora’s case, and settled on the rundown sofa and recliner. We voted on who would hand out the gifts. Nora won, or lost, depending on how you looked at it.

“I don’t have a Santa hat,” I confessed. That was a family tradition that whoever got the vote to hand out presents had to wear a Santa hat. “I do have a green top hat that was part of a beer promotion for St. Patty’s Day last year.”

“That would be divine.” Nora beamed. Once the hat was fetched and atop her head, she handed out the meager gifts.

“Oh, look a new circular saw!” Dad crowed as did Antonine, Nora, and Mom. Well, Mom didn’t actually crow. She kind of patted the tool as if it were a cat on her lap. She was terribly allergic to cats and power tools.

“Al had like nothing left other than saws or tape measures,” I explained as I shot a look at my sister.

“Oh hey, I got a saw too!” Kenan chimed into the saw joy.

“Yes, we found out that Al had little to pick from,” Mom tossed out. “I am sorry, Kenan. When we get home, we’ll send you something a bit more personal.”

“No worries, ma’am. I’d love to try my hand at cutting wood,” he responded, saw box on his thighs, his dark eyes alive with pleasure.

“Nonsense. We can’t simply give you a saw while Brann gets all these lovely gifts,” Mom said in that way that we all knew meant the decision was finalized.

“Might as well not bicker about it. She’ll send them whether you want a sweater and cologne set or not,” I told him as I placed my new sweater and cologne set on the floor by my feet.

“Okay, well, then thank you. You can mail them to the pub, I guess,” Kenan said. “I don’t have a mailing address or anything.”

“Send them here,” I rushed to say. My eyes touched on Kenan. “Until you figure out where you’re going to be in the new year.”

“I plan to be here, with you, maybe in a little apartment somewhere in town.” He reached out to take my hand.

Good thing because something had to tether me to the earth.

Chapter Ten

The day after a big holiday usually feels like a massive letdown.

This one, however, didn’t feel like that at all. Probably because the man who had made the season so festive and gay was strolling along beside me to Mr. Blum’s cabin. We’d gotten a call from him late last night informing us that he’d be home early today and wished to speak to us rather urgently.

We’d watched the front window closely for his old Toyota pickup to trundle down the lane, our second day off in row—a rarity for me even with family in town—and then had pulled on coats, hats, and gloves to visit after an hour had passed. We were spending the night at the movies and then having dinner with the family. Antoine had to fly out early tomorrow for a game, Nora was going with him back to Canada, and my folks were heading back to Florida.

Mom had wheedled a commitment from us to show up in Boca Raton in March for Dad’s sixtieth birthday party. Kenan had jumped on the invite, claiming that his southern boy snow fascination had worn off long ago. That had left me walkingon air hearing that we’d be a couple for at least three months, barring anything huge happening. I had no plans to do anything to jeopardize our relationship. I had to learn to accept Kenan’s word as truth. And, if we did end up apart, my life would go on. Those were hard lessons to absorb. I had to remind myself daily that I was loveable, worthy, and capable of not being a noose to quote Paulie.

“What do you think he wants?” Kenan asked as we turned off the road to enter his tiny yard. Several crows took to wing when we stepped on the path. It hadn’t taken him long to toss food out to his friends. The bird feeder was also full and smoke poured out of his chimney.

“I couldn’t hazard to guess. Probably he wants to show us snapshots of his time with his sister and give us a gift card for feeding the birds while he was gone.”

“That’s sweet, but totally unnecessary.”

“I’ve been telling him that for the past few years. I generally use the gift card to buy shell corn for him when he runs out and his social security check hasn’t come yet.”

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