Page 95 of One Foggy Christmas
My heart lifts. Impressing my dad in a work setting was always at the forefront of my mind.
“I think I was unfair to you all those years ago.” He clears his throat, erasing the hint of emotion I thought I heard.
“How?”
“I didn’t put enough trust and belief in you.” He puffs out a humorless laugh, another mechanism to hide his vulnerability. “I probably micromanaged you to death, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
There’s only been a few times in my life when I’ve heard my dad utter the actual words,I’m sorry.His apologies usually dance around it but never include it.
“I’m so proud of all you’ve accomplished. I really am.” He smiles even as his eyes fill with moisture. “You’resmart, and even though you can’t remember everything you’ve accomplished in the last three years, you still should feel proud. I’d be honored to have someone like you take over my business any day of the week.”
I blink back at him, almost like I’m watching in real-time as years of arguments, frustrations, and complicated feelings fall away from our relationship one brick at a time.
“Thank you,” I finally manage to get out. “And I feel like I owe you an apology too. I don’t remember all the ins and outs of why I pulled away from you so much, but I know it wasn’t fair of me. I’m sorry I didn’t stick around and figure it all out. I wish I had.”
He wipes a tear.
I saw him cry once at his mother’s funeral when I was a little girl and once in the video of Tate’s funeral.
And now I’ve seen him cry over me and the lost years between us because we were too stubborn to forgive and forget.
“Let’s do better moving forward?” I offer.
“I’d like that.”
I’d like that too.
That simple admission releases years of weight holding me down. I can’t remember how it held me back. I just know deep down that it did.
NASH
This isthe one event on the calendar I’ve circled ever since I heard about A Dickens Christmas—December 23rd—the Fezziwig’s Christmas Ball, just like inA Christmas Carol—but Skaneateles style.
You dress up. You dance. You fall in love.
At least, that’s how I’m hoping the night goes. But Sadie has been standoffish the last few day, ever since the night we fell in the lake, and even more so when I told her we wanted to have a baby. I don’t know if it’s all connected or if there’s something more going on. I just know every wall and guard that I’ve been working to tear down has been raised again.
But I’m holding my breath, hoping for the best tonight.
“My lady.” I bow, kissing Sadie’s knuckles as I help her out of the car.
Her lips lift, but it’s not a smile. Not really.
“Shall we?” I offer her my arm, and she loops her hand through.
“Are you going to talk in Victorian-style language all night?”
“I doubt it, since I don’t know anything else besides what I’ve already said. Wait.” I hold my finger up as another word pops into my head. I lean in closer, whispering into her ear. “You look ravishing tonight.”
That gets a lip twitch. Not a full smile or a laugh. But at least there was a twitch.
Sadie does look ravishing in her fitted maroon off-the-shoulder dress.
“You’re the most beautiful woman here.”
She eyes me. “Thanks. You look nice too.”
“At least this time, I’m in a suit and tie instead of a flannel button-up.” I hold the door open for her. English-style music plays loudly, and stomps and shuffles scrape across the wood floor as groups learn a new dance.
