Tic-Tac-Mistletoe - N.R. Walker Page 0,26
lame. But he genuinely liked it. “The service counter is original,” I explained. “My grandpa made it and it’s now so worn and smooth by seventy years of use. When I touch it, it reminds me that my grandpa and my dad’s hands did that; made it smooth and slightly worn where they stood with their hands on it. I can feel their history, my history.” I scoffed at how stupid that probably sounded to him. “Sorry, that must sound weird to you.”
“Are you kidding me?” His voice was quiet, and when I met his gaze, I could see his eyes were glassy. “That’s the single most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. It’s proof, ya know? It’s a testament to them and now to you for carrying on their name, their hard work.”
I nodded, getting a little teary myself. “There’s a mark on the wall behind the office desk from my dad’s chair. He was always going to putty it up and paint over it . . .” I took a shaky breath. “Now that he’s gone, I can’t bring myself to fix it.”
“Don’t ever fix it,” he replied gently. “Leave it forever, and every time you see it, I hope it makes you smile.”
I nodded, blinking back tears. I wasn’t expecting to get so emotional. I guess talking about my grandpa and dad and knowing that when Hamish left tomorrow, I really would be spending Christmas alone, just kinda hit me harder than I realised.
Of course, Chutney chose that exact moment to start barking, probably wondering why we weren’t going inside the shop. I wasn’t sure if I was up for seeing that service counter right now. “Yeah, okay, okay,” I said, putting my truck into gear. “We’re going. Keep your socks on.”
“She has got her socks on, Daddy,” Hamish said, smiling all perfect and lifting her little foot to show me. Then, as we made our way home, he proceeded to point things out to her out his window, to which she listened intently, and I didn’t know who out of the three of us was smiling the most.
After helping Hamish take his suitcases back to his room, I went to the fridge to ask him what he’d prefer for dinner. “I have beef brisket, pork, and some chicken. I also have a stack of fresh veggies and I can make a pretty mean vegetable pasta. Or I can cook us a roast dinner. I can make either.”
Hamish leaned against the kitchen cupboards, facing me. “Pasta sounds amazing.”
“Too easy. And that won’t take long at all.”
“Can I make you a coffee?” he asked. “If you don’t mind me using your kitchen. I feel like I should be doing something to help.”
“Um, sure. Coffee sounds great.”
He didn’t know how to use my coffee machine or where anything was kept, and I had to help him with all of it, but it was fun to be moving around my kitchen with him. In no time at all, we had our fresh brews and he wanted to go back out into the snow.
“I just can’t believe I’m here,” he said, slowly walking down the front steps and along the path in the snow. “Finally. I mean, here in America. It seems like I started planning this forever ago.”
“I’ve said it before, but I can’t imagine just moving to the other side of the planet.”
“It’s not as scary as it sounds. More of a logistical pain in my arse.”
“Where were you thinking of settling in?” I asked, trying to sound casual. I sipped my coffee and looked toward the tree line. “Somewhere close to your sister?”
“I was thinking, yes. I don’t know how close though. Same town, maybe. I’ve never seen Mossley before. Is it as pretty as Hartbridge?” I shrugged because I was biased, and he laughed. “Nowhere is as pretty as Hartbridge, right?”
I chuckled at that. “I am unashamedly biased. But yes, Mossley is okay.”
He sipped his coffee and smiled at me, his stocking cap pulled down low. “I feel like a kid, but I can’t believe I get to have a white Christmas.”
“I can’t believe it’s summer in Australia right now. In December. That’s absurd. What do you do for a summer Christmas?”
“Well, I haven’t done much the last few years, since Liv left anyway, but when I was a kid we’d have salads and barbequed meat. Kids would play cricket in the park, or we’d go to the beach. I remember getting a Slip ’N Slide for Christmas