Page 58 of Wylder Ranch
“We are. I mean...um. . .yes. But she’s not mentioned Thanksgiving or if she’s celebrating it. But. . .” I pause. Fuck. Maybe this is going to put a spanner in the works. “I was going to ask her to stay for Christmas.”
I came to the decision somewhere in the middle of the night, while I was sitting in the rocking chair googlingWhat is a Girl Dad?and ruminating on what my housewould be like without Haven and Everly. Emptier, for one.
It led me to picture my future, particularly how long I could conceivably go without seeing my daughter. Two weeks max was the number I came to, though twenty-four hours was more preferable.
Two weeks flying back and forth across the Atlantic. Which isn’t impossible, but not ideal, because then I had to decide how long we would spend together between the two weeks. And I travel for work, which I’d need to fit around seeing Everly.
It would require a lot of planning, and that’s why I asked Lando to come over. I have an idea I want to run past him, but I’m not going to do it while he’s red-faced from blowing up balloons.
While it was a productive night of thinking, it was also the second night in a row I got very little sleep. It’s probably why I didn’t second-guess this whole birthday party thing when I mentioned Everly’s milestone to Miles.
Behind me, he whoops, while Lando’s brows shoot up.
“Christmas?”
I nod. “Yes.”
Lando’s eyes shoot to Miles, and I know exactly what he’s going to ask next.
“Does this mean you’ll be here for Christmas?”
I nod again. “If Haven agrees. If she doesn’t, then I’ll be somewhere else. Wherever Everly is.” That was something else I decided in the middle of the night. If Haven says no to staying, then I’ll just go wherever she is. Wherever they are.
Miles lets out another whoop, adding, “It was my idea.”
“I hope she says yes,” Lando adds quietly. “We alwaysmiss you at Christmas, Al.”
I don’t reply and he doesn’t expect me to. There’s nothing to say that hasn’t already been said, and it helps push my guilt away quicker when we stay silent. Miles being Miles breaks any looming tension by throwing a balloon at my face.
“I’m all done. What’s next?”
“I’m not sure.” I shake my head, flicking my wrist to check my watch. “I’ll have to wake Everly up soon for her afternoon bottle. What time will the girls be done? How long does a spa take anyway?”
“Who knows.” Miles shrugs. “Do they even know where we are? What if they go to the pub after, as that’s where we said we’d be?”
I’ve been so caught up in birthday party planning, it slipped my mind we’re not where we said we’d be, when Lando pipes up, “I already told Holiday we’re here. They’re on the way back.”
Shit. There’s still so much to do for this weird party that didn’t exist until this morning.
“Does anyone know where Hen is? He’s supposed to be bringing the birthday cake.”
Another of Lando’s balloons zips through the air and drops on the floor. This time his expression is more amused than annoyed. “Birthday cake? Seriously, Al? Are you okay?”
“It’s not a birthday party without cake, Lan.” I shouldn’t have to explain, and then I hear the door open.
“Reinforcements are here,” Hendricks calls out.
It’s followed by a screech from Max, and a very out-of-tune rendition of “Happy Birthday,” which sets off all three dogs howling, because Hamish and Maud have alsoarrived to join in the fun.
“Maxy, come and help blow up balloons,” demands Miles, only to knock Max in the face with one the moment he walks into the room.
“Hey. Not fair,” he gripes, and, picking up the nearest balloon he can find, returns the favor.
I leave them to their balloon fight and run to warm Everly’s bottle before waking her. I find her staring at the mobile flying above her crib, blue eyes wide, before focusing on me, and she lets out a big smile that melts my heart. I’m sure any parent would think this about their child, but she’s seriously the most beautiful baby. When Max was born he was widely regarded as incredibly cute, but he wasn’tthiscute.
“Hello, darling. Did you have a good nap?”
I lift her out and my nose finds her neck. Breathing in that sweet baby scent is as addictive as crack because I can’t get enough of her, and I know two weeks without her is going to be akin to withdrawal.
