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“No, buddy,” London replies and kisses his head. “Are you about done?”
“Why don’t you want to marry my mom?” he demands. “She’s a catch. And she’s nice. And she makes really good cookies.”
“All good reasons to get married,” I agree, nodding. “But she was just kidding. That’s all.”
“Adults are weird,” he decides and jumps down to go get his shoes on.
“Thank you,” London says as she grabs her handbag and her computer bag. “You can let yourself out if you want.”
“I’ll leave with you. I can walk around to my car. And London?”
“Yeah?”
“You really are a catch.”
Chapter8
London
“It’s November,” Caleb points out as I yank a tub of holiday décor out of the attic. “Why are we doing this so early?”
“I like Christmas.” I blow a strand of hair out of my eyes and pass my son a wreath. “Put that by the stairs. It goes on the front door.”
“Last year, you had a whole company come to the house to decorate.”
“And they’re coming again this year because I can’t reach the high stuff without a ladder, and I’m afraid of heights. But there’s some stuff that we should do ourselves because it’s fun, and you and I have some traditions.”
“Like making the popcorn strings that go on the tree.”
“Yes. But you eat most of the popcorn.”
He grins at me. “It’s delicious. Are we doing that tonight?”
“No, that has to be done closer to the holiday, but don’t worry, I won’t forget.”
“I know.” He sounds completely unconcerned. “You don’t forget anything, even the stuff I wish youwouldforget.”
I chuckle and pull out the last box for today, then close the door behind me, and we make our way to the stairs leading to the first floor.
“I’m going to scoot the heavy ones down the stairs behind me,” I inform him. “Take that wreath and head down. I don’t want to trip over you.”
“Don’t fall and break your face,” he advises, his own face perfectly serious.
“Thanks, I’ll do my best.”
I’ve made it halfway down when the doorbell rings.
“I got it!” Caleb yells and runs for the door.
“Ask who it is!”
I hear my son sigh and then say, “Who is it?”
I can’t hear the answer, but it must satisfy Caleb because he opens the door.
“What the hell?” Drew hurries over to me and takes the heavy weight of the tote off my back. “What are you doing?”
“Bringing Christmas decorations down from the attic. But the question is, what areyoudoing?”
