Page 65 of Take Me Home

She checked her phone for a distraction and sobered at a text from her father reminding her that they were all going as a family to the winter festival tomorrow for Lucy’s choir performance.

“I suppose they still do Winter Fest at the high school?”

Ash nodded. “Are you going?”

She tossed her phone onto his bed. “Looks like. Lucy has some choir thing.”

“Yeah, the twins have a dance recital, too.”

Hazel perked up. “You’ll be there? What time?”

He shook his head, smiling. “I’d be flattered if I didn’t know you just need a buffer from your family. What time do you want me there?”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he threw her a look that said he wouldn’t buy it. “Eleven.”

He talked about the twins’ small but constant competitionswith each other over dancing, school, friends, June’s disappointing go at breaking into acting in L.A. When he moved on to Maggie and his nieces, she saw genuine concern there. Everyone was trying to make this Christmas a little more magical for them with the little girls’ father away for work.

“And your dad,” Hazel said.

He stilled.

She’d only intended to empathize, but she sensed she’d said something wrong. She recalled his response to Franny at the bar, the same sudden straightening of his posture, the darting eyes, the weird feeling that she was missing information. “His…surgery?”

“Right, yeah.”

Hazel couldn’t pinpoint why the energy between them had changed, but soon they ran out of gifts to wrap, and he was back to normal. Ash descended the stairs behind her, carrying presents, and as she opened the laundry room door, her name and height marked there in his assertive handwriting, he hooked his free hand around her waist and whispered in her ear, “I won’t be able to do this in front of them.” Then he dipped his chin over her shoulder to kiss her. It was firm but quick. Before she could respond, he squeezed past her and out into the kitchen.

They watchedWhile You Were Sleepingwith Ash’s family, and the coziness of so many bodies all squished together on the sectional and sprawled across the floor in the dark, all their laughter, all their mild complaints about someone hogging the blanket, someone’s cold toes,everyonetalking too loudly, enveloped Hazel. She was hyperaware of the warmth here, already aching at her inevitable departure even as she tried to stay in the moment, wring every last drop from it.

Only the two of them and June managed to stay awake to the credits, the rest of the family all lightly snoring, heads tippedback or resting on someone else’s shoulder. Unlike Ash, all four Campbell sisters so strongly favored Annie, with matching strawberry blonde hair, freckles, and blue eyes, that the actual identical twins among them barely stood out. But like Ash, they’d also all inherited their dad’s height. With their willowy limbs sprawled across each other on the couch, their close bonds, both genetic and emotional, were impossible not to notice.

It was after eleven, the fire nothing but embers. Hazel considered feigning sleep. Maybe Ash would let her stay. But when June extracted herself from the little kids and slipped out back to smoke, Hazel resigned herself, stretched, and said, “I guess I should go,” embarrassed by the last-second upward inflection that turned it into a question. Even more embarrassed when he said, “Yeah, sure.”

Just as she climbed into her car, he said, “Wait, I forgot,” and ran back inside the house. He returned with a box under one arm and a small tower of soup cans in his other hand. “For the gate, so you don’t have to give them another sweater.”

She tried and failed to suppress her smile. The gate stopped charging admission so late at night, but she decided not to tell him that. “What’s in the box?”

“Ornaments. You said you didn’t have any for your tree, and as I’m sure you saw, the grandkids’ have taken priority around here.”

“Asher…” She stared up at him in awe, unable to speak for a long moment. “Your mom won’t miss them?”

“It’s just a few of the literal hundreds I made as a kid. Cinnamon dough stars. Popsicle reindeer. Very amateur. And I was pretty generous with the glitter on a few of them, so it’s honestly more a burden than a gift.”

Hazel got out of the car, reached up on her toes, and kissed him hard.

Chapter

Fourteen

Ash’s first thought upon waking wasHazel. Kissing Hazel. Holding her. She smelled minty and sweet, sweet like the excessive sugar she required in her coffee, and he was beginning to understand that addiction. He didn’t even care that he couldn’t sleep past five-thirty. The promise of seeing her at Winter Fest propelled him out of bed, humming “Joy to the World” through a quick shower and heading downstairs to join his mom for coffee.

When he reached the kitchen, though, he stopped short at the sight of both his parents seated at the table, his mother applying a Band-Aid across his father’s forehead. Icy dread trickled down his spine. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” His father pushed at the hands smoothing the bandage and tried to rise, only to fall back into his chair. Ash’s mother reached for his elbow, and again he brushed her away, pulling on the edge of the table to erect his obviously stiff body. He listed to one side and, after two shuffling steps toward Ash, apparently thought better of walking and leaned against the counter.

“Nothing, huh?” Ash asked, catching his mother’s eye.

She shook her head in warning. “He tripped by the fireplace.”

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