Page 17 of Snowed in with Scrooge

“It’s a long story,” I say, but my mom is already shaking her head.

“Then take out the plot and give the juicy bits,” she orders, and I want to roll my eyes.

“This is what you get for reading all those romance books.”

“It’s great, isn’t it?” She wiggles her eyebrows and nudges my dad.

“This can’t be happening.” I run my hand down my face and when I look up the two of them are making the same exact pose with their arms crossed and waiting for details. “She was stranded on the side of the road and I gave them a lift.”

“Was there some kind of alternate dimension involved?” My dad is serious when he asks this.

“I know this looks strange—”

“Strange? I feel like I’ve walked in on a miracle.” My mom looks over at the tree, and for a half a second I think I see her eyes get watery. “We brought breakfast and there’s plenty for everyone.” She clears her throat and goes straight into the kitchen without another word.

“Is she okay?” I ask my dad, and he surprises me by pulling me into a hug. “Are you okay?”

“We’re just overwhelmed, Fraser. It’s a good thing.” He squeezes my shoulder before releasing me and going into the living room to sit on the couch and talk to AJ and Mina.

Deciding to check on Nyah, I go into the master bedroom and take a peek. When I don’t see her right away, I go into the closet and discover her hiding.

“You can’t stay in here forever,” I say as I reach for her and lift her up in a hug.

“Are you sure?”

“My parents want to meet you.” I pause and realize that it’s not the whole truth. “I want you to meet them.”

This wasn’t something I would have considered a week ago, but from the moment Nyah and Mina came into my life I’ve discovered that I wasn’t living my life before. I was merely existing from one day to the next with no real purpose or future. Seeing things through their eyes has shown me how I shut everyone out, including the people I love the most.

“You do?” She seems skeptical, but I nod.

“I do.” She’s already put on leggings and a sweater, so I smack her ass and give her a quick kiss. “And I’m hungry.”

She’s smiling as I put her on her feet and not-so-forcefully pull her out of the bedroom.

“Mom, this is Nyah. Nyah, this is my mom.” I introduce the two of them, and my mom surprises me by giving Nyah a hug.

“You can call me Mom or Grandma.” My mom shrugs. “My real name is Frances, and I’ve always hated it.”

“Okay,” Nyah says with a little laugh and she looks dazed when my mom releases her. “Something smells good.”

“I hope you’re hungry. I brought homemade cinnamon rolls, a breakfast casserole, fruit, and bacon.”

Nyah’s stomach growls in response, and she flushes with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry.”

“That’s music to my ears,” my mom responds. “Feeding family is my love language.”

“It’s true.” I take Nyah’s hand and squeeze it. “She used to cook five meals a day to keep up with how much Aspen and I ate.”

It’s not until I see my mom’s expression that I realize what I’ve said. I hardly ever talk about Aspen and even then it’s been a long time since I've said something that wasn’t about his death.

“It’s like you two would wake up starving,” my dad says gently as he comes into the kitchen with us. “You were both so skinny I didn’t know where it went.”

“Fraser? Skinny?” Nyah says with wide eyes. “I can’t picture it.”

“Hey, I was a growing boy.” I poke her in the side, and she smiles at me. “I still am.”

“Then it’s a good thing I made so much,” my mom says as she fusses over the dishes and doesn’t make eye contact with anyone.

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