Page 6

Thanksgiving was still three days away but Christmas was already in full force here. A huge evergreen tree took center stage in the lobby, decorated in red and gold ornaments, and garlands hung on every surface.

He almost hadn’t lived to see this particular Christmas. Wes touched the bandage underneath his shirt at his abdomen. If not for Kodi, Wes wouldn’t be here picking up his grandfather for a trip to the barbershop. Instead, he would be taking up a spot at the family plot above town, along with his father and grandmother.

That brush with his own mortality certainly made a guy think long and hard about the direction of his life and the decisions he made along the way.

He wasn’t sure he would change anything about his past. He wanted to think he had been a good police officer, concerned about his community and anxious to protect and serve.

But every road he traveled down had left another one unexplored. What if he had stayed, married Hannah, gone to med school, started a family with her?

No sense wondering. That was as pointless as chasing shadows on a cloudy day.

He pushed away the thoughts as he reached his grandfather’s apartment. Stanley had hung a sign that said No Turkeys Allowed, which made him smile.

His grandfather, stooped and a head shorter than Wes, opened the door shortly after he rang the doorbell. The retired banker never went out, even for a haircut, without appearing his best. Now he wore a button-down shirt, cardigan and pressed slacks.

“There’s my handsome grandson. It’s good to see your face, young man. And how are you, Mr. Kodi?”

Kodiak wagged his tail half-heartedly. While the dog already adored Stanley after only a few meetings with him, even being in his company didn’t perk up the dog.

“Ready for your haircut?” he asked his grandfather.

“As I’ll ever be. I don’t have much hair to cut anymore, so I have to make sure what I’ve got left looks sharp for the ladies.”

Wesley smiled. “You’re as handsome as ever, Pop.”

Stanley chuckled. “Glad somebody thinks so. How are you settling in at my house?”

“Good. Are you sure you don’t mind me staying there?”

“Why would I mind?” Stanley asked. “I hate to see a house empty. It’s not right. That house needs a family. Kids, lights, Christmas trees.”

“I’m afraid all it has is a grumpy cop and his wounded dog.”

His grandfather touched a gentle hand to his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here, son. Too many holidays spent on your own aren’t good for the soul. It will be nice to have you around this year for all the festivities.”

Wes suppressed a grimace, not entirely sure he wanted to know what Stanley meant by all the festivities.

It wasn’t that he hated Christmas or anything. It just didn’t hold the same magic for him as it seemed to for others. The season carried too many shadows, chief among them the memory of that hellish Christmas when his father was killed and his mother changed forever. He found it a little tough to deck the halls with fa-la-las when those dark recollections muscled out any warmth or cheer the season might offer.

Now, standing in his grandfather’s cozy living room of his retirement apartment surrounded by twinkling lights and the scent of cinnamon, Wes felt oddly out of place.

“Too bad you weren’t here fifteen minutes ago,” Stanley went on. “You might have seen that pretty Hannah Goodwin. She’s put together a Shelter Inn choir for a benefit Christmas concert she throws every year.”

“I bumped into her in the parking lot,” he admitted.

“She’s as pretty as ever, isn’t she?”

More, he wanted to say. Wes’s mind drifted back to the last time he had seen her standing on her parents’ porch, her eyes hollow, her cheeks stained with tears. The memory of how he had shattered the light in her eyes, breaking her heart along with his own, sent a pang of regret through him.

He had spent years convincing himself he hadn’t had a choice back then, but now he wondered if that had just been a coward’s excuse.

“She looks good,” he said, hoping his grandfather would leave the topic there.

No such luck.

“She’s not married, you know,” Stanley said, giving him a meaningful look. “Her twin sister’s been married twice, but Hannah hasn’t. A few months back I asked her if she was dating anyone, and she said she was in a committed relationship with her cats and Netflix.”

He chuckled. “She was joking, of course. Hannah is a sweetie. If I were forty years younger, I would try to sweep her off her feet.”