meant, at least as far as Christmas was concerned.
“Oh, before I forget,” J.R. said with exquisite timing. “Dora’s ordered the plane tickets for Christmas Eve. We leave JFK at seven and land in Saint John around—”
“Dad, I’ll need to change my ticket,” Jake said, interrupting his father.
That brought J.R. up short. “Change your ticket? Why?”
“I’ll join you on the twenty-sixth,” Jake explained. “Holly invited me to spend Christmas Day with her and her nephew.”
J.R.’s frown was back as he mulled over that statement. “You’re going to do it?”
“Yes. I told her I would.”
J.R. stood and walked to the window, turning his back to Jake. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Holly invited you, too.”
“You told her it was out of the question, didn’t you?”
More or less. “You’d be welcome if you chose to come.”
Slowly J.R. turned around. “Well,” he said with a sigh, “I suppose it was unrealistic of me not to realize times are changing.” He paused. “I look forward to our vacation every year.”
Jake had never thought of their trip to the Caribbean as a getaway. His father always brought work with him and they spent their week discussing trends, reading reports and forecasting budgets. It was business, not relaxation.
“You call it a vacation?” Jake asked, amused.
“Well, yes. What would you call it?” J.R. frowned in confusion.
Jake hesitated, then decided to tell the truth, even if his father wasn’t ready to hear it. “I call it an escape from reality—but not from work. A vacation is supposed to be fun, a break, a chance to do nothing or else do something completely out of the ordinary. Not sit in a hotel room and do exactly the same thing you’d be doing here.”
J.R.’s frown deepened.
“Admit it, Dad,” Jake said. “You don’t go to the islands to lounge on the beach or snorkel or take sightseeing trips. Far from it. You escape New York because you can’t bear to be here over Christmas.”
J.R. shook his head.
Jake wasn’t willing to let it go. “From the time Mom and Kaitlyn died, you’ve done everything possible to pretend there’s no Christmas.
“As a businessman you need the holidays to survive financially but if it wasn’t for that, you’d ban anything to do with Christmas from your life—and mine.”
J.R. glared at Jake. “I believe you’ve said enough.”
“You need to accept that Christmas had nothing to do with the accident. It happened, and it changed both our lives forever, but it was a fluke, a twist of fate. I wish with everything in me that Mom and Kaitlyn had stayed home that afternoon, but the fact is, they didn’t. They went out, and because their cab collided with another one, they were killed.”
“Enough!” J.R. shouted.
Jake stood. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Dad.”
“If that’s the case, then you’ve failed. I am upset.”
Jake regretted that; nevertheless, he felt this had to be said. “I’m tired of running away on Christmas Eve. You can do it if you want, but I’m through.”
“Fine. Spend the day with Holly if you prefer. It’s not going to bother me.”
“I wish you’d reconsider and join us.”
J.R. tightened his lips. “No, thanks. You might think I’m hiding my head in the sand, but the truth is, I enjoy the islands.”
Jake might have believed him if J.R. had walked along the beach even once or taken any pleasure in their surroundings. Instead, he worked from early morning to late evening, burying himself in his work in a desperate effort to ignore the time of year—the anniversary of his loss.
“Yes, Dad,” Jake said rather than allow their discussion to escalate into a full-scale argument.
“You’ll come the next day, then?”
Jake nodded. He’d make his own flight arrangements. They always stayed at the same four-star hotel, the same suite of rooms.
“Good.”
Jake left the office and hurried down to the toy department. He was surprised to see Mrs. Miracle on the floor. According to the schedule she wasn’t even supposed to be in. That was his decision; since she’d volunteered to watch Gabe, he’d given her the day off.
“I didn’t expect to see you this morning,” he said.
“Oh, I thought I’d come in and do a bit of shopping myself.”
“I didn’t realize you had grandchildren,” he said. In fact, he knew next to nothing about Mrs. Miracle’s personal life, including her address. He’d offered to have the driver take her home and she’d agreed, but only on the condition that he be dropped off first. For some reason, he had the impression that she lived close to the store....
“So