Page 66 of Holiday at Home
“What?”
“I think the smartest thing your dad ever did was see how special your mom is and then do everything he could to keep her.”
Nash tilts his head, thoughtful. “Is that what you’re doing with Aunt Violet?”
I freeze mid-pour, then glance over my shoulder at him. “Yeah. That’s exactly what I’m trying to do. But there’s a difference.”
“What kind of difference?”
“I lost Aunt Violet once.”
Nash’s brow furrows. “Like… at the mall?”
I laugh softly. “No, not like that. I thought other things were more important, but I was wrong. And when you’re wrong about something that big, it’s on you to take responsibility and make it right.”
Nash nods, serious now. “I bet she was mad.”
“She was,” I admit. “And hurt. But she forgave me. She’s got a pretty big heart.”
He grins, his little face lighting up as he climbs onto his knees on a chair at the table. “Aunt Violet’s happy now. Dad said you’ve got everything handled, so he didn’t need to take extra time off work to come here early.”
I can’t help laughing. “Sounds like something your dad would say.”
We sit quietly for a beat, the coffee brewing between us, filling the air with warmth and promise. I hunt throughthe cabinets to make a cocoa for Nash, topping it with marshmallows from the jar Violet keeps by the sink.
Maybe it’s the early hour. Maybe it’s the magic of the day. Maybe it’s the warmth in my heart after yesterday. But I feel a sudden urge to impart wisdom.
“Here’s the thing, Nash,” I say, sliding the mug toward him. “Something I want you to remember when you’re grown.”
He nods solemnly, both hands around his cup.
“When you find the right woman, you’llknow.”
“I don’t really like girls. They don’t know how to play right.” Nash wrinkles his nose.
Right.
My audience is six.
Adjust accordingly.
“I hear ya on that one, little man.” I bob my head like he’s made an indisputable point. “Butsomeday, I bet you’ll find yourself liking girls.”
“Not me.”
“Happened to your dad. Happened to me, too. So, just in case it happens to you, I want you to remember, when it’s right, you’ll feel it deep inside. And whatever you do, don’t let the world tell you that other things—money, fame, success—matter more. They don’t. The most important thing in life is right here.” I tap his chest, over his heart. “It’s being with people who love you, taking care of them and knowing you’re taken care of too.”
He looks down at where I touched him, then back up with a small, knowing smile. “That’s what Mom says too.”
“Then your mom’s even smarter than I thought.”
Steam curls between us, soft and white against the glow of the Christmas tree. The house feels alive with peace, the kind that only comes when you finally stop running from where you belong.
28
Violet
The house is still and soft, the kind of Christmas-morning quiet that hums with expectation and possibility. I wake to find myself alone. Not strange in the full context of my life, but in the last few weeks, I’m typically the one sneaking out of bed so as not to wake Simon. Not the other way around. I throw on a robe and the fuzzy socks he left me on the porch and pad downstairs.
