Page 22 of Ten Christmases Without You
“Jack’s turn,” Elsie called.
Jack stood up and smoothed his little paper between his fingers. “What did the other reindeer not allow Rudolph to do because of his nose?” His brows pulled together.
“That’s a tough one, babe,” Madison called.
Jack sucked in a breath. “I know it. He couldn’t play their reindeer games.”
“That’s why I love that man,” Madison said. “He’s so smart.” She batted her eyelashes at him.
He grabbed a gift and unwrapped it. “Oh, nice. It’s a car emergency kit.” He snapped open the lid. “I have jumper cables, a flashlight, a flare, and a warming poncho.”
“Very useful,” Emmy’s dad said with a nod.
“I suppose I’m next,” Charlotte said.
But Emmy was distracted by a text from Charlie that pushed through on her phone:
I got a flight coming in tomorrow morning. That was the best they could do. What time are you planning to be up and around?
She texted back:
I’ll be up early, so text me whenever you want. I can come over there if that works better.
As she hit “send” on the text, the popcorn tin slipped out of her lap.
“I’ll take that,” Uncle Stephen said, wiggling the tin in front of her and bringing her back to the present. With a wide grin, he handed her another gift.
“Oh, man,” Emmy said in mock disappointment.
She unwrapped her gift. “This is actually really nice.” She held up the box decorated in muted colors. “Stationery and thank-you cards.”
“I thought that would be great too,” Charlotte said with pride. She put so much effort into her presents every year.
“Was that Charlie?” Madison said in her ear, while the game moved on.
“Mm-hm.”
“What did he say?”
Emmy leaned in. “He can’t get here until tomorrow morning.”
“That might be better anyway. You could have more time with him—all day if you want to.”
“We don’t need to spend the whole day together. And he has to see his own family too,” Emmy noted.
“You haven’t seen him in a year. You two have a lot to catch up on!” Madison winked at her.
Emmy didn’t want to admit how much his text had filled her with hope for the holiday.
“I can’t believeno one stole my stationery set,” Emmy said as she and Madison sat at the kitchen table that night sipping mugs of decaf and picking at leftover cheesecake truffles.
Everyone else had turned in, but neither Emmy nor Madison was ready to head to bed. They’d both changed into their pajamas, and Emmy had twisted her hair up into a clip. Now, they were chatting the way they had when they were girls.
“Tonight was fun,” Emmy said. “Better than years past.”
“It was pretty much like any other Christmas. What changed for you?”
Emmy set another cheesecake bite on the napkin in front of her. “I’m not sure... I promised myself that I’d try harder to enjoy it for Mom.”
