Page 93 of Wrapped with a Beau

“Nuh-uh. Not the best. You haven’t opened mine yet. I’ll give it to you the next time I see you, that way I know you’ll come.”

He half frowns. “You know if you want to see me, you just have to ask, right?”

Uncertainty trickles down the line. “I guess, but Dad always says I shouldn’t bother you because you’re busy and you’re an adult, so...”

“You never bother me, Hanna,” he says firmly. “Ignore Dad. I’m always here for you.”

She drops her voice, a little scandalized, impressed, and apologetic all at once. “I forgot to tell you that you’re on speaker. He heard you say that.”

He laughs under his breath. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Dad wants to talk to you. I’ll text you after.”

A second later, Karl says, “Please do not tell your sister to ignore me, Ves. That undermines me as a parent.”

“Yeah, sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. But what am I supposed to say when she tells me— You know what, never mind. Just... stop making her feel like she’s a nuisance.”

“Fine,” comes Karl’s clipped reply. “I’m always the bad guy.”

Ves really doesn’t have the energy for this conversation. And especially not with the Rowes right there, all of them eating uncomfortably, not making a peep. Even though they can only hear one side of the conversation, he knows they’ve picked up on his change of tone. “I’m having breakfast with the Rowes. Why don’t I call you back later?”

“You take calls in front of other people?”

“I’m not you, Dad.” What he really means is I have nothing to hide.

“No need to call me back. I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas.” The call ends, which Ves was expecting, knowing how curt Karl can be, but it still stings.

“I didn’t know you had a sister, Ves,” Anita says lightly when Ves puts the phone down. “It’s nice that you’re so close.”

“We weren’t always,” he admits. “We have to work at it. She’s much younger than I am.”

“You have a big family?” asks Dave.

Ves glances at Elisha, then away. “No, but maybe someday.”

Dave grins. “Then younger siblings are good practice.”

Jamie coughs. “Dad, you do realize your children—my older siblings—tormented me all through childhood, right?”

Dave stabs a sausage. “You were the baby. That’s different.”

“Well, I guess hiding in the kitchen with Mom taught me everything I know about baking,” says Jamie.

“Grandma Lou would have liked you, Ves,” Elisha says decisively. “Right, Grandpa?”

Dave gives a sage nod. “Oh, undoubtedly.”

Tears prick at Ves’s eyes. “This fruit salad is amazing,” he says, digging through the festive medley. A mint syrup is drizzled over cut strawberries, honeydew melon, red and green grapes, and kiwis, everything sprinkled with jeweled pomegranate seeds. “Anita, Jamie... I’m going to miss your cooking as much as I’ll miss all of you.”

“No talking about sad things today,” Anita says brusquely.

Jamie reaches out to clap Ves on the shoulder. “We’ll miss you too, son.”

The lump in Ves’s throat grows impossibly bigger. If anyone finds it odd that he hides his expression by studiously staring at the fruit he’s eating, they’re too polite to say so.

“You haven’t opened mine yet!” Elisha cries, sliding a rectangular package to him.

It’s wrapped in glossy red plaid paper, scattered with sprigs of holly. He gives it a light shake. There’s a good weight to it. “A book?”

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