Page 2 of Once Upon a Holiday Vacation
Still, as I turned back to my work, I couldn't quite silence the tiny voice in my heart whispering, “What if?”
The warm aromaof roasting chicken and herbs filled the kitchen as I diced vegetables, stealing glances at Weston. He was stirring a pot of gravy, his brow furrowed in concentration. The sight made my heart skip a beat.
He looked up and grinned when he caught my stare. “Careful not to chop your finger along with those carrots,” he teased.
I felt a blush creep up my neck. “Just making sure you don't burn the gravy,” I quipped back, earning a playful eye roll.
Mom bustled in, patting both our shoulders. “What would I do without my two sous chefs?” she said fondly.
I watched as she fussed over Weston, showing him how to whisk the gravy just right and a familiar warmth spread through my chest. It wasn't just because of my feelings for my friend, but because of the beautiful bond my family had forged with him over the years.
I remembered the first time he had come over for dinner, back when we were in second grade. He'd been so quiet, his eyes wide as he took in our cozy kitchen, the laughter, the casual affection. It was such a stark contrast to his own home, where raised voices and the clinking of bottles were more common than family meals.
Weston’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Remember when we tried to make dinner that one Christmas?”
I groaned dramatically. “How could I forget? We nearly burned down the kitchen.”
“Hey, that was mostly your fault, bookworm.” He laughed. “You got distracted reading the cookbook.”
Our banter continued as we finished preparing the meal. It felt like home in a way that had nothing to do with the fact that I’d grown up there and everything to do with the people in it.
As we sat down to dinner, the familiar rhythm of conversation and laughter filled the air. Dad regaled us with tales from his latest project, while Mom shared gossip from her book club. Weston chimed in with stories from the firehouse, his eyes sparkling as he described a daring rescue.
I found myself watching him more than listening, mesmerized by the way his hands moved as he talked, the curve of his smile. When he caught my eye, I quickly looked away, focusing intently on my plate.
Mom cleared her throat. “Your father and I have some news,” she began, glancing at Dad.
I felt a flutter of nerves. “What kind of news?”
“Well,” Dad said, setting down his fork, “your Aunt Lily took a fall last week. She's broken her hip.” His brow furrowed with concern as he finished.
My heart sank. “Oh no, is she okay?”
Mom nodded. “She's out of the hospital now, but she needs some help while she recovers. So...” She paused, looking between Weston and me. “Your father and I have decided to spend Christmas in Wisconsin with her this year.”
“Oh,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment. Christmas had always been our special family time. The thought of spending it without them felt wrong somehow.
I caught my best friend’s stare across the table, seeing my own mix of emotions reflected there. Despite the pang in mychest, his presence was comforting. At least I'd still have him, I thought. Maybe this Christmas wouldn't be a total loss after all.
Weston's sea-blue eyes flickered with disappointment as they met mine, but in an instant, his expression shifted. A determined grin spread across his face, his silver lip piercing catching the light.
“Well, that's a bummer,” he said, his tone light despite the undercurrent of disappointment. “But hey, East, looks like we'll have to step up our game this year, huh? Maybe I can finally convince you to try that cliff diving Santa thing I've been talking about.”
I couldn't help but chuckle, grateful for his attempt to lighten the mood. “Nice try, West. My feet are staying firmly on the ground, thank you very much.”
Mom reached across the table, patting my hand. “We're so sorry, boys. We know how much you both look forward to our Christmas traditions.”
“It's not your fault, Mom,” I assured her, though my heart still felt heavy.
Dad nodded; his eyes warm. “We'll make it up to you when we get back. How about a big New Year's bash instead? We can invite the whole town if you want.”
Weston's eyes lit up at that. “Now you're talking! We could have a bonfire, maybe set up some of those extreme winter games I've been reading about...”
As he launched into an enthusiastic description of his plans, I found myself smiling despite my disappointment. Trust West to find the silver lining in any situation. Maybe this Christmas wouldn't be what we'd planned, but with him by my side, I had a feeling it might turn out to be memorable in its own way.
As we cleared the table after dinner, Weston bumped his shoulder against mine. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice lowenough that only I could hear. “We're gonna make this the best Christmas ever, just you and me. I promise.”
My heart skipped a beat at his words. “Yeah?” I asked, hating how hopeful I sounded.
