Page 28 of Terms and Traditions

I’d seen a few of those photos online, and they were magical. Airy and light with a storybook-magic haze to them. Almost like ‘90s nostalgia. Stephanie had all this talent, and she’d studied business? “Why—?” but I was cut off by Stephanie’s reappearance.

If she caught me studying the photo, she didn’t comment on it. Just smiled tiredly and jiggled a pill bottle. “Ready.”

And then something crystallized in my mind. I knew exactly what I wanted to give Stephanie for Christmas. I would need Liz’s help, but that would have to wait till we were on the road.

“May the odds be in your favour, Nash.” Liz saluted me with a Hunger Games salute before smothering Stephanie in another hug. “The Addams are something else. Keep our girl safe.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Resting my hand on Stephanie’s lower back, I guided her down the cleared driveway. It was a simple gesture that felt natural.

Once we were in the car, I held out a coffee thermos from the cup holder. “Peppermint mocha, m’lady.”

“You got me a coffee?”

Technically I’d made her the coffee at home, but she didn’t need to know that. “What sort of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t bring you a coffee at the ungodly hour of 6:30 in the morning?”

Stephanie laughed and snatched the thermos from me, sighing contentedly after the first sip. “You’re too perfect,” she whispered, and I wasn’t sure if it was about me or the coffee.

I discreetly pulled out my phone as I keyed the ignition and shot Ryan a quick text.

ME

Need a favour. Can you get me Liz Kelso’s number from Kelsi? I’ll babysit one night if you do.

Babysitting bribery was Ryan’s love language, and if I was going to pull off Stephanie's Christmas gift, I needed some help.

The quiet neighborhood fell behind us. “You got a road trip playlist, or did you want to jump headfirst into the twenty questions? Or catch a few more winks?”

Stephanie snorted. “I’m not much of a morning person. I feel you should know that.”

I stole a glance at her. “I got that impression. That’s fine, though. Plug your phone in and crank up the music or sleep if you need to. We’ve got a long drive.”

She hesitated. “Are you sure you don’t want to pick the music? What if you don’t like my taste?”

“Won’t know until I at least hear it,” I countered. “Besides, I’m sure your taste is just fine.” And when Elvis Presley crooning “Blue Christmas” filled the car a minute later, I started to sing along in a thoroughly bad pitch, which made her laugh as she snuggled deeper into her seat, still cradling her coffee thermos like a dragon hoarding gold.

Against the backdrop of Elvis, Sinatra, and Crosby, short sentences slowly ebbed into full conversations by the time we were halfway through the Idaho panhandle. The sun peered over the mountains on the horizon, reluctant to show its face. Snow dusted the evergreens and the dead grassy fields we passed, and the morning light shimmered on the lake, edging along the side of I-90.

A lone moose, tall and majestic against the patches of snow, watched as I merged into the left lane, adjusting my visor to counteract the glint off the road trying to blind me. “Nothing like winter sunshine.”

“Mm-hmm.” Stephanie groaned a little as she stretched and readjusted in her seat. She dug around in her bag and pulled out a wad of needles and yarn. It was a nice navy colour, though I was lost as to what it was supposed to be. Was that an arm hole? “I feel like I should know if you’re one of those crazy people who loves winter or sees it as a necessary evil before we get back to spring and summer?”

I tapped the wheel lightly in thought. “I never minded winters growing up. Texas was mild compared to Washington. So was Southern California. But I do prefer the warmer months.”

“Same. The only mild winter I experienced was when I visited Gabe in Hawaii one year. Growing up in Denver wasn’t exactly a mild winter experience.”

I snorted. “Definitely not. Now, Gabe. He’s the Marine. Married to Ivy with… four kids, right?”

Her face softened. “You remember all that?”

I shoulder-checked before changing lanes. “Of course. You talk about them often. And Nana and Hailey. They’re important to you.” I gestured to her hoodie. “Besides, you don’t seem like the boot camp type.”

Stephanie smiled, the knitting needles clicking in a soothing rhythmic cadence. “Yeah, I stole it from him one year. With his deployments, they don't always make it to the cabin for Christmas, and some years they’re with Ivy’s family, but this year they’re gonna be there.” She blew out a breath. “Truthfully, that’s the only reason I’m not skipping this year. Them and Hailey, because her folks are out of town.”

“You miss him.” It wasn’t a question. Her tone practically bled with her affection.

“Yeah. Gabe’s the only sibling I’m close to. We’re not even blood relatives technically, since Hiram is his stepdad—his stepson from his first marriage—so we’re half siblings. Maybe? There’s no blood connection. So, I don’t know how that works, but he’s always been there for me.” She abruptly cleared her throat and glanced out the window.

Nat King Cole’s soothing lilt in “O Holy Night” filled the space between us, and I hummed along softly, giving her a few minutes to collect herself. My phone pinged, and I recognized Ryan’s chime. We were due for a quick restroom stop soon to stretch our legs and maybe grab another coffee. I could sneak a peek at the message then.