Page 26 of A Not So Merry Rescue
I didn’t always feel like him.
Before.
Before, I loved Christmas, the lights, the festivities, the presents, the joy.
It was all stolen that fateful day.
8
beckett
It’s been a day.
The town plowing crews couldn’t keep up with the storm, so they called in private plows for the smaller areas. My straight plow works great for driveways and small lots, but it can’t compete with the V-plows or the commercial ones the town owns. On a day like today, I’m thankful for any plow, to do my part however I can, but a bigger one would allow me to help more and in less time.
I didn’t get a chance to text Willa until late in the afternoon. Her reply was interesting. Concerning, yet intriguing.
Bundy
I didn’t burn down the house. The tree is still standing. You’re welcome
I’m too tired to cook dinner. Shall I bring something home for us?
Pepperoni pizza would hit the spot
Might take a while
I’ve got nowhere else to be
“likes a message”
I call in the order and am given a wait time of forty-five minutes.
The snow finally stopped a couple of hours ago, so the cleanup efforts can make some headway. While I wait, I tackle a few more driveways on the way to my parents’ house.
Dad or Dax already took care of the driveway, the walkway, and the cars.
Inside the back door, I shake the snow off in the mudroom, toeing out of my boots and gear, and hang it in my cubby, a childhood habit I can’t break. I appreciate how my folks leave the kids’ ones empty for us. It’s a welcome home, something Mom’s very much in favor of.
“Beck, that you?” Mom’s voice drifts to me.
“Yeah. Waiting out my pizza pickup time.” I greet her in the kitchen with a kiss on her cheek. “Everyone holding up okay in here?”
“We’re fine. Gives me an excuse to stay in and bake all day.”
“I thought your holiday baking was done?”
She hands me a steaming mug of coffee doctored exactly how I like it. “Is it ever really done? Can we ever have too many Christmas cookies or desserts?”
I can’t stop the laugh bubbling at how Willa would react.
With the monotony of the day, my thoughts wandered to the pixie more than they should have. I wondered how she spent the day, what she scrounged up for lunch, if she got any work done.
When things were boring, thoughts of her naked in my shower and my bed crept in. Why my brain conjured her naked in my bed is a mystery, but I didn’t mind.
It was the highlight of my day.
Standing in the kitchen with my mother, I shut these thoughts down.
