The Noel Letters (The Noel Collection #4) - Richard Paul Evans Page 0,73
She opened the book. The title page was inscribed:
Dear Charlotte,
From one southern hen to another, Keep pecking.
Jerica Bradley
She looked at me. “Jerica Bradley really wrote that?”
“Yes, she did,” I said. “I have no idea what it means, but who else would write an inscription like that?”
“Thank you. I will treasure it.”
“Is Dylan here?”
“He is. He’s downstairs in the guest room taking a nap. Alex woke around four thirty. You know how kids are on Christmas morning. I’ll go wake him.”
“No. Please don’t. I’ll just go in, if you don’t mind.”
She looked at me for a moment, then said, “I think that will be okay.”
“Are Stratton and Alex here?”
“They’re in the den. It’s down the hall.”
I walked to the den. Alexis saw me as I walked in. “Noel!”
“Hi, sweetie.”
“Daddy said I wouldn’t get to see you anymore.”
I frowned. “I would have missed you too much.”
“Merry Christmas,” Stratton said.
“Merry Christmas to you.” I lifted my bag. “I brought presents.”
“Do you have one for me?” Alexis asked.
I nodded. “Of course I do.” I brought out her present. “You can probably tell it’s a book. Do you like books?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to open it?”
“Uh-huh.” She pulled back the wrapping paper to expose the children’s book beneath.
“It’s a book called The Day the Crayons Came Home,” I said.
She laughed. “That’s silly.”
“I know. Maybe you and your grandpa can read it.”
“I call him Pawpaw,” she said.
“We’d love to,” Stratton said.
“I have a present for you too,” I said.
“You didn’t need to do that. You caught me flat-footed. Now I’m in your debt.”
“I’ll always be in yours,” I said. I handed him the wrapped book, which was as thick as a brick. “Dylan said you like nonfiction. I think you’ll like it.”
He pulled back the paper and held it up. The Wright Brothers by David McCullough.
“McCullough is a two-time Pulitzer Prize winner,” I said.
“I’m familiar with McCullough. I read his book on Theodore Roosevelt.”
“Mornings on Horseback,” I said. “It won the National Book Award. My father loved it too.”
“Thank you,” he said. “It’s a very fine gift.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
He set the book down. “More than that, I’m glad you came. Dylan’s been pining for you. I hate seeing that.”
“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I didn’t treat him like he deserved to be treated.” I shook my head. “I haven’t really been the person I want to be.”
Stratton smiled at me kindly. “Well, I suppose admitting that is the first step to becoming that person.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“Merry Christmas, Noel.”
“Merry Christmas, Mr. Sparks.”
“Pawpaw, can you read this to me?” Alexis said, holding up her book.
“How about you read it to me?”
“Okay.”
Stratton winked at me. “Dylan’s in the guest room. It’s the first door down the stairs.”
“Thank you.”
I was afraid to see him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he made me leave. I guess I expected it. I wouldn’t blame him, either.
I softly walked down the carpeted stairs and opened the door. Dylan was asleep, snoring a little. I gently sat on the bed and then lay back, my face next to his. For several minutes I just watched him sleep. He was beautiful. My mind and heart both raced. I had no idea what I would say to him when he woke. My anxiety grew. Why wouldn’t he throw me out? I was considering leaving when his eyes fluttered open. He looked as surprised as I thought he would. His voice was raspy as he said, “I thought you were Alex.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just me.”
“I’m not used to waking up to a strange woman in bed.”
“That’s probably good.”
He smiled slightly.
My eyes were locked on his. “Do you think you could get used to it?”
“Maybe. With a little practice.”
“I would love to practice waking up with you.”
He just looked at me. My eyes welled up. “I’m so sorry, Dylan. You’ve been nothing but good to me.” I swallowed. “Everything you said about me was true. You have no reason to forgive me. But if you could somehow give me another chance…” I closed my eyes as tears rolled down my cheeks. “I’ll be better. I promise. I—”
I didn’t finish, as he pressed his lips against mine. I fell back onto the bed as we kissed. After a while he leaned back and looked into my eyes. “Apology accepted.”
“I’m not done.”
“You have more to say? You kind of said a lot already.”
I smiled. “I meant with the kissing part.”
EPILOGUE
This might be the happy ending without the ending.