to overwhelm you with fancy words or grand gestures or romantic nonsense. What you get with me is as simple as I am: love, honesty, faithfulness, family, companionship, laughter and a promise that I won’t split when it gets tough, which it certainly will at some point. All I need to be happy is to wake up with you, see my daughters just about every day, get my baby girl Simone off the school bus every afternoon, help her with her homework and then come home to have dinner with you before we go to bed together. If that’s what every day for the rest of my life looked like, maybe with a few more grandkids thrown in at some point, it’d be way more than enough for me.”
“And you said you wouldn’t overwhelm me with fancy words,” she said, ridiculously moved.
He scowled. “There was nothing fancy about that.”
“And yet it was the fanciest thing anyone has ever said to me, because you mean it.”
“Hell yes, I mean it. It’s long past time you knew how terrific you are, how sweet, caring, loving, sexy and perfect. It’s a goddamned shame your husband ever made you feel anything other than cherished, especially after you gave him the incredible gift of eight beautiful kids. The man ought to be taken out to the woodshed and horsewhipped for what he did.”
“Your words are getting fancier.”
“Shut up and ask me to move in with you.”
“You’re being kind of pushy, aren’t you?” she asked, amused.
“Ask me, Hannah.”
She gave him a coy look she wouldn’t have thought herself still capable of before he showed her the many things she was still capable of. “You wanna move in?”
“Hell yes. I thought you’d never ask.”
“You promise you won’t make me sorry I did, right?”
“Swear to God.”
That, Hannah decided as she melted into his fierce embrace, was about the best guarantee she could ever hope to receive.
Chapter Sixteen
“Everything will be okay in the end.
If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.”
—John Lennon
After a busy morning in the office and in the store, with everyone making sure their areas of the business were covered for the time they’d be gone, the family loaded up a smaller bus than the one they’d taken to Boston in June. Car seats were strapped in for Callie and Caden, snacks were provided by Ella and Charley, and, as usual, Lucas and Landon were the last ones to arrive, right when Linc was threatening to leave without them.
“Sorry,” Landon said as he preceded his brother onto the bus. “It was his fault we’re late. I had to pry him away from Dani with a crowbar.”
“Oh my God,” Lucas said. “Shut up, will you?”
“Both of you shut up, and sit your asses down so we can get going,” Molly said.
“Mom said shut up,” Landon said, scandalized.
Those words had been on Molly’s list of felony offenses in the barn when they were growing up.
“You buffoons drive me to it,” Molly said, making everyone else laugh.
That’s good, Linc thought. The laughs will help me get through this, and there are sure to be plenty of laughs when this group goes somewhere together. Before he gave the signal to Bill, the driver, to depart, Linc stood and faced the people he loved the most. “I just want to say thanks for this. I know the timing is awful with Christmas this week, but it means the world to me that you all insisted on coming.”
“There’s no way we’d let you do this without us, Dad,” Hannah said, “so let’s get going so we can get back home to enjoy Christmas.”
“You heard the lady,” Linc said to Bill. “Let’s go to Philly.”
Hunter had ensured the movie system on the bus had their favorite holiday movie, Christmas Vacation, cued up for the ride, and as he listened to his family laugh and shout the iconic quotes, Linc could only smile at the way they always came through for him.
“Funny that the traumatic call from Philly is going to give us one of the most memorable Christmases in years, isn’t it?” Molly quietly asked him.
“I was thinking the same thing.”
“When was the last time, other than the wedding, that we all went somewhere together like this?”
“It’s been a long time,” he said, “and back then, we had to take two cars because you had so many kids.”
“Yes, that was all my fault.”
“One hundred percent your fault for being a fertile Myrtle.”
They’d had this “fight” for years about who was ultimately responsible for