“You’ve obviously never been a parent. My whole life feels like one big round of things I have to do when I would rather stay in my pajamas all day and read a book.”
He slowed as they approached another snowplow. “What will you do on Christmas Eve if you decide to let her stay with her father?”
“My parents always have a family party that evening. We were going to go together. My dad grills steak and we all eat too much and play board games and exchange gifts.”
“That doesn’t sound bad.”
“It’s not. It’s wonderful. Lydia is usually the star of the show, of course.”
“Naturally.”
“She’s the only grandbaby on my side so she’s very spoiled by my parents, Hannah and our older brothers.”
“They’ll miss her this year if she stays with Troy.”
“Yes. It definitely won’t be the same. And when the family party is over, I’ll probably go home to my empty house, sit by the Christmas tree and feel sorry for myself.”
He placed a warm, strong hand over hers. Grateful for the compassion and support in his touch, she turned her hand over and twined her fingers with his.
The drive from Haven Point to Shelter Springs usually only took about ten minutes. This trip took at least twice that long because of the road conditions and overcautious drivers. As she listened to the wipers beat away the snow from the windshield and soft music on the stereo, she felt herself relax, the exhaustion of the long day catching up with her.
She must have drifted off to sleep for a few moments. She awoke when the motion stopped, opening her eyes to find they were in her driveway.
“You should have headed to Kim’s place first,” she said. “I could have dropped you off before driving back here.”
“It’s only a block. I don’t mind a quick walk,” he said.
“In the snow? In your dancing shoes?”
He inclined his head toward the darkness outside the window. “The snow’s not as bad here. Looks like Haven Point must have had a microsquall over there. We’ve only had an inch or two. I’ll be fine.”
Sometimes that happened because of the lake effect and the wind direction. One community could be slammed while the other one barely had a trace.
“I’ll help you carry Lydia to her bed,” he said, hitting the remote that opened her garage door and pulling her SUV inside.
She couldn’t think of a reason to argue with him. She was grateful for his help anyway. Lydia was getting bigger. In a few more years, Holly probably wouldn’t be able to carry her on her own.
Her daughter hardly stirred as Holly unhooked the seat belt of her booster seat or when Ryan scooped her out and over his shoulder, where she nestled into his neck, eyes still closed.
Lucky girl, Holly thought. She would like to be snuggled in Ryan’s arms right now.
“Where is her room?” he asked, voice low.
“I’ll show you.”
She led the way up the stairs and opened Lydia’s door, across the hall from her own.
He lowered Lydia onto her bed, a low-profile twin she still called her big bed. She didn’t let go, however. She held onto his neck, eyes still closed, and murmured something Holly couldn’t hear.
“Shh, sweetheart,” he murmured. “You’re home now.”
After a pause, Lydia relaxed, easing back onto the pillow.
“Thank you,” Holly whispered. “I’ll take it from here. I need to get her out of her fancy princess dress, since I don’t think it will be very comfy to sleep in.”
“Makes sense. I’ll wait for you downstairs.”
She nodded, though some part of her wanted to tell him to leave now before she wrapped her arms around his neck like Lydia had done and refused to let go.
