Page 28 of Puck the Halls
I also know both her and Crew well enough to know that if I say no, she’ll call Crew and he won’t lie to her.
“No. They’re in Des Moines.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Luna says.
My sentiments exactly.
CHAPTER 8
Crew
Everybodyin the diner wants to give us a ride. There are even a couple of guys who are not going to Des Moines who have offered to change their route for us.
Being me is pretty great ninety-nine percent of the time.
And at the moment, my stomach full of some of the best pancakes I’ve ever had, sitting in a diner full of people who love me, on my way to see my gorgeous wife, I can’t even come up with times that fall into that other one percent.
“Okay, here’s the thing,” I tell the group that’s gathered around my booth in Daisy’s diner in Davenport, Iowa. “This is all going to come down to what kind of rides y’all have.”
They all laugh.
I grin, but I’m serious. I need comfort. We have two and a half hours to go and then Nathan’s going to put us on a charter flight. That is absolutely the way I am used to traveling, and I don’t want to be stuck in the back of some pick-up truck, or crammed into a Kia for the trip from Davenport to Des Moines.
“Let’s go out to the parking lot and you can show me what you’re driving,” I tell the small crowd.
It only takes me five minutes to pick the way we’re taking to Des Moines.
Rhonda and Dave have a full on camper.
It’s not like the camper that we took home for Christmas two years ago. It’s not a Christmas Vacation RV. No, this is anicemobile home. The kind people stay in for weeks at a time at National Parks and shit. This cost some serious money.
Rhonda and Dave are on their way to Des Moines to see their grandkids for the holiday which, as Rhonda explains, also means there’s Christmas music, Christmas decorations, and Christmas cookies inside that thing.
No one else in that diner can compete.
And honestly, I think they all understand.
I climb into the RV and take a seat on the bench by the dining table. Rhonda opens a plastic container, full of frosted sugar cookies, and I take a deep breath.
“Dave, feel free to drive just under the speed limit too. No reason to rush this trip,” I say, selecting a huge snowflake cookie and a Christmas tree that has four colors of frostingandlots of candy.
That’s the kind of cookie Dani and I would make. I grin as I bite into it. I get to see my girl in just a few hours. God, I’ve missed her. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since I last saw her, but something about being stuck, not having a direct way to her, having obstacles thrown in our way repeatedly makes it seem like we’ve been apart longer.
Rhonda and Dave both chuckle. Rhonda goes to the back of the Winnebago, rummages around and then returns. “And if you get cold,” she starts holding up what she has in her hands.
“Yes. One thousand percent. Gimme.”
I take the bright red sweater that’s stitched with a fully decorated Christmas tree complete with real tinsel garland. There’s also a long 3-D gift box under the tree that will hangdown over my crotch.The words above the tree say BIG GIFT ENERGY.
I pull it over my head and give a happy sigh. It’s actually soft inside and warm and hilarious.
Dave climbs into the driver seat and starts the engine. “Okay, where’s Nathan?” he asks.
I finish chewing the cookie in my mouth and swallow. That’s a good question. Nathan was very quiet during breakfast. I’m not even sure where he sat.
“Let me go and grab him,” I say. I’m more than happy to wear this sweater for an audience.
I pull my phone from my pocket and shoot him a quick text even as I head for the front of the diner, the Christmas package bumping gently against my dick as I walk.
