Chapter 16
Holt
“Careful, Daddy,” Lauren says from the bottom of the attic ladder.
“Let me know when I’m at the bottom?” The plastic storage box in my arms isn’t heavy, making this descent a whole lot easier than when I bring the Christmas boxes down.
“Two more steps,” she says with her arms out as if she could catch me if I fell.
Once I’m on solid ground, Lauren audibly exhales.
“Why can’t we keep the decoration boxes in the garage, where it’s easier to get them out?
” With her hands on her hips and her lips in a pout, she could give my mother a run for her money on how to scold me.
I bite the inside of my lip to keep from laughing.
Lauren is parroting a question Hannah always asked when we decorated for the holidays.
It would be a hell of a lot easier to get the boxes out if they were stored in the garage, but Hannah had so many decorations for every holiday that I wouldn’t be able to park my truck in there anymore.
Which is what I tell Lauren every time she asks the question.
She always huffs the way Hannah used to, and it makes me smile.
We finished packing up all the Christmas stuff last weekend, and now we’re going to make the house look like Cupid threw up in it.
I’m grateful that the girls hold me accountable for keeping these traditions. Without their reminders, I wouldn’t have put up a single festive thing since Hannah died. The first year they asked me to decorate, it nearly killed me. I had no idea I could feel so depressed at Christmas.
Now, putting up decorations makes me feel like Hannah is still with us in the only way she can be. It’s comforting in ways I hadn’t expected.
“Daddy, look what I made!” Leah races over to me with a piece of pink construction paper. I set the box in my arms next to the three others by the stairs and then squat down to look at Leah’s drawing.
There are three stick figure adults, two stick figure kids, and about a million wonky hearts surrounding them. “Wow, look at that. Tell me who the people are.”
Leah points to the two kids. “That’s me and that’s Lo Lo.” Then she points to one of the adults with a weird hat on their head. “That’s Mommy, ’cause she’s a angel. That one is you, and this one is G.”
My chest hitches. The girls have fallen for Gia just as hard as I have.
Am I a shitty father for letting that happen?
She’s leaving in a couple of days, and all three of us will be devastated when she doesn’t come back.
I have no idea what else I could have done.
After Gia stayed with us that first night, the girls were all in on keeping her around.
They constantly asked if Gia could come over for dinner or spend a Saturday with us.
I couldn’t have separated my dating life from my home life if I tried. “Aw, baby. I love it.”
“Can I give it to her?”
“Of course. We’ll try to see her tomorrow before she has to leave.”
Leah’s face scrunches. “I don’t want G to leave.”
“Me neither, sweetheart, but this isn’t her home. She has to go be with her family.”
“Can we invite her over to help us decorate?” Lauren asks, being the peacemaker as always.
“You want her to help?” I try to keep the surprise out of my voice.
Decorating the house has become a thing between just the three of us.
We didn’t even invite Hannah’s parents that first year.
Kathy was so pissed at me, but I stood my ground on that one.
The girls and I needed space to grieve for Hannah while we went through our memories.
Kathy would have tried to keep everyone happy.
Her intentions would have been good, but there were few bright spots that Christmas without Hannah.
I didn’t want the girls to feel like they weren’t allowed to be sad during a commercially happy time.
“Yeah!” Leah shouts. “She could help us make new paper chains.”
“Okay. I’ll see if she’s busy tonight.”
“Can we have tacos for dinner?” Leah asks, her brain jumping four steps ahead.
“Sure. Do you want chips or shells?”
“Chips.”
“Shells.”
The girls frown at each other. Lauren puts her hands on her hips. “You never want shells, but they’re my favorite.”
“’Cause I like chips better.”
“You just like to eat them. You don’t actually use them for your tacos.”
“I do too!”
Why did I think giving them a choice was a good idea? I leave them to work it out on their own. Eventually, they’ll come to the conclusion that we should have both, but it’s good for them to practice talking out their issues.
I grab my phone from the kitchen and dial Gia’s number while I double-check that I have all the ingredients we need for tacos.
She answers on the second ring, her warm voice filling my head. “Hey, what are you up to?”
“Refereeing an argument over whether tortillas are better than chips for tacos.”
“Well, that’s obvious. You need both. The chips are for scooping up all the filling that falls out of your tortilla. Plus, you need them for salsa. And queso. And guac.”
A grin stretches across my face. “Good point.” I turn to the girls, who are still discussing the merits of which one tastes better with cheese versus meat. “Gia says you need both for taco night. What do you think?”
Leah and Lauren bounce into the kitchen, shouting their agreement.
“Is she coming over?” Lauren asks.
“I haven’t asked yet,” I tell her, turning back to my conversation with Gia, who’s laughing softly in my ear. “Did you hear that?”
“They want me to come over?”
“We’re decorating for Valentine’s Day and having tacos. We’d love to have you come spend the evening with us.”
“That sounds perfect. Do you need me to pick anything up at the store?”
“Nope. We just need you.” The words are truer than I’d care to admit out loud.
Somehow, Gia has seamlessly become a part of our family, and it’s going to fucking suck when she has to leave.
But I won’t ask her to stay. That’s not what we agreed to when we started this thing.
We both knew going in that it would be temporary.
It can’t be any more than that, as much as I’d love for it to be.
The kitchen counter digs into my back as I sip my coffee. I haven’t figured out if my chest has cracked in half yet, but I’m keeping my arms crossed just in case.
The scene in front of me has had tears burning behind my eyes for the last hour, and I can’t seem to pull myself together enough to participate.
Gia’s blonde hair is up in a clip while she colors at the table with the girls.
The three of them have been busy bees since we finished dinner.
We went through the boxes of decorations, and Leah and Lauren decided they needed way more paper chains.
We almost had an epic freakout when the pile of pink and red colored paper began to dwindle.
Gia mediated it with ease by suggesting they use purple too.
They’ve made melted wax hearts, several long chains, and Gia showed off her art skills by drawing Cupid on a folded piece of paper that, when stretched out, became a whole chain of them.
I wasn’t sure how I would feel about Gia being here while we decorate.
I was prepared to be a little uncomfortable, possibly even happy that the girls are ready to share this with someone else.
What I hadn’t prepared for was the fierce longing tugging at my gut.
What is it about Gia that allows me to see a future with her in it?
This wasn’t what I set out to find. I knew I liked the woman.
I wouldn’t have slept with her if I hadn’t been attracted to her, and I knew I’d catch some sort of feelings for her, but to want her in our lives more permanently?
No. It’s not what either of us signed on for when we started this thing between us.
There’s always been an end date, no matter what feelings transpired.
If I change the rules, I’ll only set us both up for broken hearts.
“Daddy! We need help hanging up the chains,” Leah shouts across the room. I set my mug on the counter and meet the girls by the windows. There are hooks already in place, so all I have to do is hang their chain exactly how they want it.
Once I’m up the ladder, I look at the three of them. Gia’s in the middle with her head tilted, Leah’s on her left with her hands on her hips, and Lauren is on Gia’s right with her finger tapping her chin. It’s a moment I wish I could take a picture of.
“I think the purple chain needs to be on the hook,” Gia says.
“Me too,” Leah agrees.
“Or the red one next to it.” Lauren shrugs.
“This one?” I ask before committing. I’ve done this enough to ask first. The number of times I’ve heard, “No, Daddy, not that one, silly goose,” has pounded that lesson into my brain.
“Yep,” the girls confirm. Following a similar process, we hang the chains around all the windows.
Leah and Lauren use a form of sticky tack to hang their creations on the walls.
Hannah figured out that it preserves both the paper and the walls.
She also made a gallery wall with open frames where we can showcase the girls’ art projects.
They have to decide which ones they want to keep and which ones will go into a box that we sort through at the end of the school year.
I take pictures and then make them throw away the ones they don’t want anymore.
We’d have boxes on top of boxes of their crafts if it were left up to me.
“This one we got with Mommy at Curious Curios.” Lauren holds up a very realistic-looking squirrel wearing a top hat and holding a heart-shaped box of fake chocolates.
It’s one of the ugliest decorations the girls have picked up over the years.
When they brought it home, Hannah had the silliest grin on her face because she knew I’d think it was hideous, yet I wouldn’t dare say anything negative to Lauren about it.
Now, I’m getting to experience the same thing watching Gia keep a straight face. “Wow, that’s something. Where do you normally put that one?”
“Mommy lets me keep it in my room,” Lauren says proudly.
“That is the perfect spot for it.” Gia looks at me like we’re crazy.
I stick my tongue into my cheek to keep from busting out laughing. Lauren takes her squirrel upstairs with Leah following at her heels.
Gia punches me in the arm, and I lose the battle with my laughter. “You’re an asshole. I’ve never had to work so hard to keep my expression neutral.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you aren’t,” Gia grumps.
I wrap my arm around her shoulders to pull her into me. “Not really. That was priceless.”
She melts into my chest. “I’d have nightmares if I found that thing in my room.”
“Hannah played a prank on me once and left it on my nightstand. I almost pissed myself when I woke up to those beady little eyes staring at me.”
Gia drops her head back with a laugh. “I probably would’ve done something similar.”
I lead us over to the living room and drag Gia down on the couch next to me. “Thank you for coming over tonight. The girls really wanted you to be here.”
“I’m honored to be included. They told me this was something you guys did with Hannah.”
“She loved decorating for every holiday. The girls have ensured we continue the tradition.”
“You’re a great dad, Holt.”
“I try to be. It’s hard though. I never imagined I’d be doing this by myself. Half the time, I’m terrified I’m making all the wrong choices, and the rest of it, I’m hoping I don’t screw them up so bad they go into debt with therapy bills.”
Gia laughs. “I think they’re going to grow into strong women who won’t take any shit from anyone.”
“I hope you’re right.” Looking into those denim-blue eyes, I’m overwhelmed with gratitude for having met this woman. “Thank you, Gia.”
A line forms between her eyebrows. “For what?”
“For reminding me that I’m more than just a grieving dad. For showing me that I still have a lot of life to live, and I want to live it to the fullest.”
“Oh, Holt,” she whispers. Her lips meet mine in a soft kiss that makes my heart splinter.
I want to ask her to stay. I want to tell her that we can find a way to make this work.
But the words don’t come out. They stay stuck in my throat until giggles and pounding feet coming down the stairs end the moment.