Page 49 of The Sleight Before Christmas

“Close, yes. Allen, listen, I can’t thank you enough—”

“No, Thatch, you earned it. Every penny.”

“I hate this. I wish things were different. I wish—”

“I would have paid three times as much for delivery of this wood.” He eyes the growing pile. “You’ve overdone it.”

I nod as a baited silence runs between us. “Allen, I need to talk to you about Serena—”

“Have you told her?”

I swallow. “No, Sir. I don’t see the point—”

“You can’t start out that way.”

“There’s nothing to start—”

“It’s already started, son,” he gives me a pointed look. “So let’s not play ignorant.”

“Why did you do it?” I ask. “You know that it can’t last.”

He shrugs. “Our daughter was coming home no matter what, and we both wanted you to meet her. Thatch, you know you’re like family to us now, right?”

“And you really approve of this?” I ask as he tucks his fingers into the back of his jeans, his return stare intent as if he’s asking himself the same.

“We made an introduction. That’s all we did, but we had a feeling you two would get on well. Truth is, we hoped you would.”

“But if—”

“Start with honesty, the way you did with my wife and me.”

“We can’t start, Allen, and you know why.”

“You’re lying to yourself and right now, to Serena. Just tell her.”

“Or you will?” I ask, swallowing.

He pauses, no offense in his return gaze as he reads the hesitation all over me. Stepping forward, he palms my shoulder.

“We love you, Thatch,” he releases so easily, a burning ball instantly lodges in my throat, my eyes stinging as sentiment mutes me. “You just don’t believe it, but we wish you would.”

Grabbing an armful of wood, he starts the short walk back to the house and pauses, glancing at me over his shoulder as the earth swallows the last of the daylight. “We trust you because you’ve earned it. But if I’m honest, I’ve trusted you since day one.”

Eli, Brenden, and I congregate mutely at the kitchen table as every drop of alcohol we consumed seeps out of our collective pores. Being the saints they are, Ruby and Allen whisked the kids away to a local inn for breakfast. Something they started to do after the first girl’s night. Sadly, they weren’t so charitabletoday after seeing the state of the cabin this morning. Issuing orders to Eli and me to clean the place up before they make it back this afternoon.

Then, they stole mine and Brenden’s trucks to fit our herd of little people in.

Seemed just.

Even more so as I glance around to see the living room littered with toys, various bags, and other items necessary for the day-to-day. Though there’s only been the addition of one new grandchild in recent years, the family has grown larger with Eli. The cabin, though spacious, barely houses all of us at this point.

“I must hate myself,” Brenden whines as we brood at the table while the women sleep it off upstairs. Though I could have sworn Serena started stirring when I got up not long ago. “Or my life,” he carries on, “because I tried to die last night. Jesus, you guys weren’t kidding about the level of hangover multiplying by every year afterforty.”

“Welcome to hell,” I grin over the brim of my steaming coffee cup.

“One day you’ll learn to listen to your elders,” Eli chuckles, then frowns. “But, there wassomethingin the air because you guys know I don’t drink often, and evenIgot a wild hair last night.”

“More like ahairball,” I give him a pointed look before glancing out of the floor-to-ceiling cabin windows.

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