“Dad, I can tell you don’t want to leave.”
“If I don’t get you guys home in time for Christmas with your mom she might literally murder me.”
“Figuratively, maybe,” Maddie said. “But it would be bad enough so you’d be wishing for literally before she was done.”
They all laughed, mostly because she wasn’t wrong, but then Jacob put his earbuds in and Maddie’s phone chimed. With nothing but a long stretch of road and the radio playing Christmas tunes at a low volume to distract him, Ian’s thoughts turned back to the woman he’d left behind.
By the time he pulled into his driveway, he was exhausted. The kids must have been, too, since they’d both nodded off a few times and it had been years since they’d fallen asleep on road trips. All he wanted to do was crawl into his big, lonely bed and pull the covers up over his head, but Jacob and Maddie had to get to their mother’s house, so they had to empty out the truck and sort everything.
“You look sad,” Maddie told him when Jacob carried Ian’s stuff inside. “I can stay if you want. Mom will get over it.”
He forced a smile and ran his hand over his daughter’s hair. “Thanks, honey. But I’m okay.”
“No you’re not.” She gave him that look, and it forced the truth out of him.
“No, I’m not. But the last thing I want is you spending your Christmas watching me be miserable because then I’ll just feel bad about that on top of…there’s nothing you can do, honey.”
She crossed her arms. “You should go back.”
He snorted. “I am way too old to get back in that truck right now.”
“So go in the morning.” There was that look again. “Aren’t you the one who told me that sometimes you just have to take the leap?”
There was nothing worse than having your kids throw your own words back at you. “That’s different.”
She did the tilted head and raised eyebrows thing. “Why?”
“Because I said so.”
“That stopped being a good enough answer when I was like four, Dad.”
“You’re young, Maddie. You can take that leap because you’ve got your whole life ahead of you and you’re not bogged down in…stuff. I’m established here. I have a house and a business and my family and friends. Nola has a home and her job and her family and friends. It’s harder to just leap when you’re that grounded.”
The smile she gave him was distinctively victorious, though he couldn’t think of anything he’d said that handed her the conversational win.
“You said you have a house, Dad. Not ahome.And you didn’t say Nola has a house. You saidhomefor her, so I know your subconscious gets the difference. You have a place you’re living. You have a job you can do anywhere. Yeah, you won’t make as much money in that area, but you won’t need as much, either. And your family and friends aren’t geo-fenced, you know.” When he frowned, she laughed. “We’re not bound to you by your location, Dad.”
“I know that, but—”
Jacob shouting Maddie’s name in a way that made her shout back saved Ian from having to come up with a list of reasons his daughter was wrong about her armchair therapy, which was good. His instinct had been to argue the point with her, but now that her words were sinking in, he was having a harder time remembering what he’d been about to say.
After they’d dumped their stuff into their vehicles, used his bathroom and rummaged through his fridge and pantry for road snacks, Jacob and Maddie left. They both promised to text when they got to their mom’s house, and he hugged them both. He could feel his holiday spirit sinking as they drove out of sight, and a restless night of sleeplessness alternating with dreams of Nola didn’t help.
Ian spent the morning of Christmas Eve in his garage, cleaning the sleds and putting all the gear away in the proper places. With the kids at their mother’s, it was too quiet to be in the house. And nothing had popped up work-wise between him clearing his desk before vacation and everybody wrapping it up for the holidays, so there was nothing to occupy his mind, so he was just trying to keep busy.
It wasn’t working.
He had thought he’d be okay with being alone for Christmas. He’d already done it a couple of times and should be growing accustomed to it. The problem, though, was that he wasn’t alone this Christmas. He was being haunted, like Ebenezer Scrooge, except his ghost wasn’t dragging him through his childhood or showing him his funeral. HisGhost of What Could Have Beenwas torturing him with memories of Nola’s smile and her quiet laugh and the feel of her hands on his skin.
He needed to hear her voice.
Pulling his phone out, he let his thumb hover over the button that would connect him to her. But she was probably still at work and then she’d be busy doing holiday things, no doubt. The town hall closed early on Christmas Eve, but then she’d probably go to the lodge to help Rosie and to have dinner with the family.
And the truth was, he didn’t want to talk to her on the telephone. He didn’t even want to video chat with her, because even seeing her face wouldn’t be enough.
Ian wanted to touch her. He wanted to pull Nola into his arms and bury his nose in her hair and feel her hands on his back.
He never should have said goodbye.
