Christmas in Angel Harbor - Jeannie Moon Page 0,24
getting into the spirit. I helped Gavin with his letter to Santa the other night.”
“Oh, that’s fun. Did you have fun? I used to love helping Tara with her letter.”
“It was great. I don’t know if Ella is still on board with the Santa thing, but she’s going to write a letter, just in case. Jamie is thinking an in-person visit is the best way to go.”
“Ha! Make sure the kids bring their letters to the North Pole mailbox at the bookstore. We have volunteers from the Chamber of Commerce who compose responses.”
“Really? That’s awesome.”
“Where did you spend Christmas last year? You weren’t with your family?”
“No, I was at my house in Hawaii. It’s very cool seeing the palm trees all lit up, but it’s not the same. Same with Thanksgiving. I love the food there. I mean I really love it, but I just couldn’t get into coconut sweet potatoes.”
“You never were very adventurous with food.” The observation illustrated how close they had been, and how much she remembered.
“I’ve gotten much better. You’ll see,” he declared. “I am glad to be here for the holidays. Like I said, it’s not the same without family. It took me a long time to figure that out.”
“I can’t imagine it would be. Last year, we had a house full of people. Some of my cousins came from out of town and brought their kids. We went to the city, and saw the tree, and ice-skated in Bryant Park…”
He held up his hand. “Whoa. Back up. You ice-skated?”
He caught her giving him the side-eye, and then one side of her mouth turned up in a grin. “Okay. Maybe I didn’t skate.”
“I was going to say, you’re not a skater. I seem to remember you and the ice were not friends. You spent a lot of time on your ass.”
“That’s true. I can stand up now, but I have no ability. I’d still like to learn, but I’m afraid if I fall, I’ll break a hip or something.”
He chuckled at the reference to their age. “I don’t think we’re quite there yet, but I understand the hesitation. I blew my Achilles tendon out a couple of years ago. Partial tear. It took months for it to heal.”
“This getting old stuff is for the birds,” she snorted.
“Yet it’s a privilege denied to many.”
It was a sobering thought and she nodded in agreement. Jane’s father was only in his mid-fifties, a couple of years older than they were, when he had the heart attack that killed him.
He parked the car in a spot on the street, thankful he didn’t have to put his baby in a municipal lot. It was only a short walk to the restaurant.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“I’ve been dying to try the tasting menu at Kent’s. Are you game?”
Jane’s eyes went wide. “Yes! Do you have a reservation? So much for you not being adventurous. The place is always packed. I’ve been wanting to go, but…”
Her voice trailed off.
“But why?”
A heavy sigh escaped. “Time mostly. My life isn’t my own.”
Her comment felt like it was part confession, part realization. She was a single parent who ran a very successful business, and that didn’t leave her much time for things she wanted to do.
Dan got out of the car and circled around to her side to open the door. He loved that Jane didn’t hesitate to take his extended hand when she exited. Looping her arm through his, like it was something she did every day, they started down the sidewalk.
“Did that sound pathetic?” she asked. “I didn’t mean it to.”
“Not pathetic. You have a lot on your plate. From my vantage point, you’re too busy taking care of everyone else to do things for yourself.”
Her mouth pressed into a narrow line. “There’s some truth to that, I guess.”
“Are you happy? It’s not a problem unless you aren’t. You were always running from one thing to another back in the day.” He had a ton of time to himself, and he certainly wasn’t happy.
She lapsed into silence, and he gave her time to think as they strolled to the restaurant. Jane always needed thinking time. It was a true gift that she didn’t just blurt out answers, and it was why he had always respected her opinion so much. So many people were ready-fire-aim; she wasn’t like that. Even when they were in high school, she always took time to weigh out the problem. She’d called it noodle time.