Page 92 of Subbing For Santa

“Are you going to tell me why we are driving into the thick forest of a national park with a shovel?”

I shake my head. “No. I’d rather just show you if that’s ok?”

I catch his smile as he turns it to me. “I can handle that.”

I hope he can. I’m counting on it, otherwise I don’t know what I’ll do.

I direct Griffin to the turnoff up ahead, and the two bikers slow down and pull over as we pull off the main road onto a dirt track.

“Just stay on this road and keep driving until the road runs out,” I direct, and Griffin nods.

The deeper into the forest we get, the bumpier the dirt track is, and I have to latch onto the grip handle above my head to keep myself from getting thrown around too much.

When we eventually run out of road, we get out of the Jeep, and I take the shovel out of the back before turning to face Griffin.

“I hope you don’t mind a bit of a walk.” I try to offer Griff a smile, but it falls flat.

“Hey.” He catches up to me as I start walking on the path, and takes my hand, stopping me. “I’m not sure what this is all about, but I want you to know we don’t have to do this. I can see it’s killing you inside, and I hate to see you in so much pain.”

It is killing me inside, but I don’t think I can move forward with him without doing this.

“It’s fine. I need to do this.” I gesture my head up the path. “Come on.”

His lips thin as he studies my face, and I see the moment he gives in before he leans over and takes the shovel from my grip. “Fine, but I’m carrying this.”

He keeps our hands linked as we walk, and the butterflies it gives me nearly scares the nausea away. When we get to the fork in the path, I take the left path and start counting my steps out loud.

“One, two, three, four…”

Griffin doesn’t interrupt, which I’m glad for. If I lose count, I’d have to go back and start again. When we get to fifty-seven steps, I veer off the path, stepping through the two thick trunks and start counting my steps again. For every ten steps, I stick up a finger until I finally hit one hundred, and then I start again.

It’s not an exact science, especially on the uneven forest floor and steep inclines, but it works well enough.

When we get to another hundred, I start again until we get to thirty-seven. Then I stop, glancing up ahead to find the boulder that looks so out of place on its own in the scrub. I step up to it and hold out my hand, not looking at Griffin, but waiting until he hands me the shovel. And then I start digging.

“Can I do that for you?” Griffin asks, sounding concerned.

“No.” I mutter, wishing the damn ground was softer.

“Not to brag or anything, but I’m familiar with digging holes big enough to fit bodies in, so I think I can handle this.”

A laugh escapes me, and I shake my head.

Here I am, digging up a ghost of my past, and Griffin is making me laugh. I’m sure he’ll be feeling the opposite of amused when he finds out what I’m digging for.

I keep digging, all the while watching Griffin in my peripheral as he leans against the boulder. The hole gets deeper and wider as I go, while the sheen of sweat coating my skin helps to keep me cool in the humid heat.

Griffin offers to dig for me more times than I can count, but I shake my head and stay focused on my task, knowing it’s only a matter of time now until I reach what I’m looking for.

The moment the shovel hits something harder than the rich soil I’ve been excavating, I freeze, and my heart just about leaps out of my throat. I suck in a deep breath and carefully dig smaller piles out until it comes into view.

“Fuck.” Griffin hisses beside me, but I keep digging, my hands trembling as my eyes blur with tears. “Aggie, talk to me.”

I keep digging until more bones appear, as well as a dirty glint of metal. I drop the shovel then, jumping down into the hole to pick up the heavy piece of metal before finally looking up at Griffin.

“Little elf. Who is that?”

I reach my hand up, hoping he’ll take it, and he does, tugging me up out of the hole.

---