Page 6 of The Grump Who Stole Christmas
“Well, maybe you could evaluate and assess me over time and then see if it’s true.”
Right. This guy did not like me. Not the first time I’d put off someone by just being me.
“I’m only here until Christmas, so let’s just hope for both of our sakes this is the last interaction we’ll need to have. Goodnight.”
Just then the door opened, and my father, who should have been asleep, was instead standing in the doorway on crutches. The cast on his leg covered his foot and knee, all the way up to mid thigh.
He looked older than I remembered, which was odd. Same long white ponytail, same round belly, same chest-length beard. But there was something in his eyes. A weariness, maybe. Which of course had to be a result of breaking his leg.
“Princess! I was getting worried about you.”
“Hi Dad,” I said, as I leaned in to gently kiss his cheek. “You should be in bed.”
“Ha! When my daughter’s not home and snow is picking up, I don’t think so. Where’ve you been?”
“I got a flat tire and this…hmmm, would I call you a gentleman when you briefly considered abandoning me on the side of the road?”
“Probably not,” Paul admitted.
“Anyway, he couldn’t manage to change the tire so he drove me home instead. Thanks, again. See you around. Or not.”
“Paul,” my dad barked at him. And that’s when I realized my dad knew my knight personally. “What’s that? You couldn’t change a tire?”
“The lug nuts were crazy tight! And speaking of crazy…”
“Okay, that’s enough,” I said, cutting him off. I didn’t want my dad to know what Paul thought of me. My dad was under the delusion I was the most perfect creature who had ever walked the Earth. While that was fundamentally not true, I did my best to maintain the illusion around him.
“Well, you’re home now. Both of you. Come on in and we can get some hot chocolate into you and warm you up.”
“Oh, Dad. I’m sure Paul has better places to be. Like his home. Bye Paul!”
“What are you talking about?” my dad said, looking at me funny.
“Uh, yeah, about that,” Paul said with a twisted smile I could just make out through his beard. “This is my home.”
“What?” I asked, not understanding.
“I told you about him, honey. Paul’s the new tree farm manager. Started this fall. Didn’t make any sense for him to have some apartment in town, so he’s staying with me in the big house until he can fix up the cabin on the back ten acres.”
“Guess we’ll be having more interactions after all,” Paul said and stepped inside the house with my suitcase in his hand as he followed my dad’s awkward progress.
I looked at the empty doorway and tried to process the information I’d been handed.
I was going to spend the next few weeks living with Paul?
“I probably should have been nicer to him,” I said aloud.
Paul suddenly stepped back into the doorway. “Are you talking to yourself again?”
Yeah. This was not going to be fun.
TWO
The Next Morning
Kristen
I was barely awake as I made my way down the steps. To say I was not a morning person was an understatement. I didn’t think, speak, or even breathe that hard before I had my morning coffee. My father knew this about me; my brothers knew this about me.
