Page 91 of The Jinglebell War
Mav grabs my arm and stops me. “Just know,” he says. “I told them not to come.”
He must be drunker than I realized. I have no idea what he’s talking about. “Make sure you get a ride home, man. Don’t drive.”
Clear-eyed, he grins and shoves me away from him. “Try not to be a total dick.”
I leave, brushing off his words as the ramblings of inebriation.
***
There’s an SUV parked in front of my house. A very large, very expensive SUV. Not exactly the type of thing burglars drive.
For one brief moment, hope flares bright that Blue is the owner of the SUV and is waiting for me inside.
But Blue doesn’t drive anything that fancy or that expensive.
“Please let it be Hudson,” I mutter to myself. It has to be Hudson. He’s the only one who’s ever visited me.
But Mav’s gibberish is making sense. He said 'them’, not him, and he warned me not to be a dick.
I glance back over my shoulder at the driveway that could take me out of here and away from whatever is waiting for me inside, but this is my house.
They don’t get to chase me out of my own home.
I park and turn off my truck. Then I just sit for a little while and stare at the house. I have no idea what they’re doing here, but I know it can’t be anything good.
I could spend the night in my truck and give myself some more time, but I can’t leave Barry alone with them all night. Not that they’d be mean to her, but Barry might think I’ve left her and she’d certainly sense the tension as my parents waited for me to show my face.
Feeling like I’m slogging through mud, I get out of the truck, cross my front lawn, and let myself into my house.
My parents are sharing a couch with Barry, already dressed in their pajamas.
Neither of them gets to their feet when I step inside and shut the door. Barry hops off the couch and trots over to me, tongue out.
I kneel and pet her. I’d rather hang with her than listen to whatever lecture my parents have for me.
“Mav said you might not be coming home tonight,” Dad says, his tone hesitant.
I look up to see him frowning, his brow creased. “I wasn’t in the mood for a late night,” I say.
“You and Blue having problems?” To her credit, my mother doesn’t appear to gloat. She looks genuinely concerned.
“I meddled with her life when I shouldn’t have.” I get to my feet, staring them down, anger pulsing in me hot. “Sound familiar?”
“Calm down, Garrick,” Dad says. “Have a seat and chat with us.”
I sit in the armchair across from them, because I’m exhausted, not because my father asked me to. “Generally, people call before they visit.”
“There aren’t any hotels in Yuletide,” Mom says. “And if we asked to stay here for a night, we knew you’d say no.”
“Or I could have just not come home tonight. Would you have been gone tomorrow, or are you planning to stay until you make whatever point you can’t make over the phone?”
“We’re leaving tomorrow.” Dad leans back, grinning like nothing can bother him. It’s such a rare expression I barely recognize him. “Your mother and I are going on a European cruise.”
That surprises me almost more than them being in my living room. “During ski season?”
Dad shrugs. “The slopes will still be there when we get back.”
“You’re really doing it.” I shake my head, not bothering to hide my disbelief. “You’re really retiring.”
