Chapter 21 Joke Daddy
JOKE DADDY
ROWAN
“Dad, why did the man bring his dog to the railroad station?” Mia calls out the question from the back seat, sounding entirely too pleased with herself.
We just took the second exit past downtown Evergreen Falls. This one will take us to our cabin nestled high in the hills. We’ll also pass the road to the Christmas train ride.
It’s another attraction of Evergreen Falls, a ride up the mountains to a scenic outpost, though I’m pretty sure it doubles as a lake train in the summer, a wine train in the spring, and a see-the-fall-leaves train in autumn—yes, there are leaves that change color even in Evergreen Falls.
I glance in the rearview mirror, where Mia sits next to Wanda in her dog bed, then turn my focus back to the road. “Why did the man bring his dog to the railroad station, Mia?”
“Because he wanted to ‘train’ him!”
I laugh lightly, offering her a smile in the mirror. “Good one. But how’s this? What did the Christmas train conductor say to the gingerbread man?”
She’s not the only one who can google jokes.
Mia’s brow furrows as she tilts her head in question. “You can’t catch me?”
“Nice try! But pretty sure he said, ‘You knead a ticket,’” I say, spelling out k-n-e-a-d.
“Ha. That’s good. Speaking of, I wonder what they called the Christmas train this year.” She taps her chin in thought. Every year, the themed ride changes name. Recent monikers have been North Pole Limited and the Christmas Comet. “We could go through downtown and check it out.”
My chest tightens. I try to avoid downtown—it’s like Christmas threw up there. My fail-safe method for avoiding it is owning a cabin on the outskirts of town.
But this kid, she keeps me on my toes. Then again, so does my hockey schedule. “The thing is, I should get settled in at the cabin, do a workout at the home gym. Daddy has games, you know.”
She sighs, and my heart twinges with guilt. “That’s okay. I can ask Grams when she arrives. Or my friends.”
The guilt digs deeper. Wraps its arms around me.
My friends’ words from the Nutcracker Auction echo—you do have a hate list, and we’re all subjected to it every year.
I flash back to the tree on Isla’s car. To Mia’s excitement in seeing it, her hope it was ours, her thrill in hanging one simple ornament on it.
Maybe I should just say yes. Learn to tolerate the holidays a little better.
If I can handle opposing teams on the ice, I can handle a little Christmas charm for my kid.
I did it with the Advent calendar. I don’t have to grinch too hard here either.
“Tell you what,” I begin, figuring we’ll grab a quick lunch, when my phone rings on the console. It’s Jason.
“Ooh, Agent Jason!” Mia calls out.
I tell the car to answer it, and seconds later, I say, “What’s up, Elf?”
“Elf?” he asks.
Mia cracks up in the back seat. “Ha, you are kind of a big elf, Jason.”
“I am not an elf.”
“You are. You’re full of holiday spirit, plus elves are cool,” Mia says.
Jason hums like he’s giving that some thought, then says, “I’m an elf then. And I just arrived with my kiddos and my wife, who’s gone off shopping. Which got me to thinking, Rowan. Of a little change of plans.” He clears his throat, and I brace myself.
“I’m going to hate this, aren’t I?”
“You hate everything, so yes.”
Mia snickers. “Especially changes of plans.”
“Not true,” I point out.
“Why don’t we start that PR focus early? I’m at Rudy’s Coffee Shop. We can grab a pic of you being all merry and bright and just-arrived in Evergreen Falls. The team will love it.”
“That sounds as painful as having my spleen removed.”
“I have anesthesia in the form of peppermint mocha,” he says, tempting me.
“Can I get hot cocoa there?” Mia asks.
“Yes, you can,” Jason says, answering for me. “Elves are forces of good.”
“I beg to differ,” I say, but with a disgruntled sigh, I give in, thinking of Everly’s words at the meeting: It would be great to get a couple of photos of you around town.
I should do this for the team. The team has done plenty for me.
I hang up, and Mia cheers. “We’re going to town.”
Yep. That’s the thing about Christmas—you try to avoid it, but it always has other plans. It’ll be for the best though. I have to learn to put up with this holiday better for my daughter.
And I suppose for Isla, for these dating lessons that will be starting any day.
Rudy’s is decorated with a glowing, red-shaped nose on the door, and yes, it glows brighter when you pull on the handle. To make matters even worse, a bell tinkles above the door, playing “You would even say it glows.”
It’s a relentless yuletide assault, but somehow, I weather it. It’ll make me stronger. I’m carrying Wanda, and Mia’s next to me. Once inside, I scan for Jason, then spot him and his kids at a table.
Mia beelines for Jason’s children, and seconds later she spins around. “Can I get hot cocoa with lunch and have it up there?”
I glance up. The two-story coffee shop has a balcony level. “Works for me.”
Once we order sandwiches and drinks from a grandmotherly woman who says “Coming right up for you two in a jiff,” with more cheer than I’d thought possible, I grab a spot at a counter by the window.
Red and white cushions with Rudolph’s face on them adorn the seats.
“All right. Make it fast,” I mutter as Wanda settles in for another nap—this one on my lap.
“You’re so sweet,” he retorts. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
“And yet you’re still friends with me.”
He smirks. “Because you make me rich.”
“Ouch.”
“You started it,” he says, then snaps a shot of me at the window.
“Perfect. You were—shockingly—glowering. So I’m sure other teams will cower when they see this.”
I roll my eyes, then lift the cup to drink. It’s exposure therapy being here. But then Mia laughs from the balcony, cocoa in hand, and something in my chest shifts. Softens the slightest bit. A dad’s got to do what a dad’s got to do.
As a server swings by to drop off my sandwich, telling me he’ll take one upstairs to Mia, Jason posts the pic on my social, then checks his phone.
“Natalie is finishing shopping—she just texted. So I should get out of here,” he says, then pushes back in his chair.
“Oh, one more thing. Sounds like the town wants some famous people to coach the teams this year for the Christmas competition. To make it extra special. The mayor asked for you.”
I spit out my mocha. “You’re pulling my leg.”
Jason looks down at the lower half of my body. “Seems I’m not.”
“Bro.”
“C’mon, you said you’d do PR. It’s a good thing.”
“Why me? How about Asher or Wesley or Tyler or fucking anyone but me?” I say, then bite into my sandwich.
He sighs, long and too satisfied. “Yeah, but see, there’s that little thing you have that they don’t.”
“What? A bad attitude? There can’t be a worse pick than me.”
“The cabin connection. It practically makes you a local. Small-town charm. Grumpy hometown hero. PR gold.”
I groan. “You’re pitching me like a Webflix holiday movie.”
“People love those,” he says with a slick smile. “And the team will love how much you’re helping them launch the new minor-league affiliate.”
“You’re killing me with your ambushes,” I say, but I can’t protest—fact is, he’s right. “I can’t believe I let you represent me.”
“What I hear is: thanks for always looking out for me to ensure I don’t ruin a great career with a bad attitude.”
I sigh. “You’re like a dog with selective hearing.”
Wanda perks her head up at that, her big ears rising. “Just like you, girl,” I tell her. I give Jason a look. “Why are you doing this?”
As I take another bite, he holds his hands out wide.
“Don’t shoot the messenger. Besides, it’ll work out.
The first meeting is tomorrow late morning.
And you can do your dating lesson with Isla after.
See? I’m helpful. Oh, speaking of Isla,” he says, shaking his head, clearly amused.
“Get this. I just heard from my mom. She’s setting my sister up with—”
I see red. Before he can even finish, it’s billowing out my eyes, pouring out of my ears. “With who?” I bite out angrily, cutting him off, slamming my sandwich down.
“She wants to set her up with Oliver Abernathy.”
No idea who that is, but I hate him on principle. “Who is this asshole?”
“Whoa. Didn’t think you’d have such strong feelings about Isla dating,” he says, giving me a what gives look.
Fuck. I can’t let on I’m a dragon, breathing fire at the mere thought of Isla seeing someone. “Just being protective of your sister, that’s all,” I say in a scramble, trying to make light of my reaction.
Jason arches a brow. “Yeah?”
“Of course. She’s one of the most thoughtful, caring, helpful people there is, and I don’t want some prick taking advantage of her.” There, that’s true. Completely true.
“Fine. I’ll agree with you there. Anyway, this guy’s an art history professor. Some smart British guy who loves Christmas evidently.”
My jaw clenches. He sounds horrifyingly perfect for Isla. I can barely take it. “He’d better be good to her,” I manage to grit out, even though my mind is spinning like a washing machine thrown off-balance.
Jason claps me on the back. “Just don’t take up all her time. It’d be good to see her dating again too,” he says, then nods to the balcony to gather his kids.
I’m left alone with my jealousy and irritation as I finish my sandwich, then wrap my hand around the mug.
This Abernathy prick would probably quote Jane Austen while decorating gingerbread houses with Isla by the fire as Nat King Cole played and snow fell softly out the window.
I nearly break the handle off the mug.
But Wanda cocks her head my way, shooting me a look of canine concern. Shit. I can’t worry my dog—let alone my kid. I try to let go of my ire. I loosen my grip on the handle, dump the rest into the bin, and carry my dog as I gather my kid—doing my best to forget my brand-new enemy even exists.
Out on the street, Mia twirls happily, her big eyes checking out every storefront, every streetlamp, every Christmas sign. Seeing her like this softens my prickly edges somewhat. That’s the thing about kids. You can’t stew in your jealousy for too long since you need to take care of them.
Then again, as I rewind the last few years of dating, I haven’t felt much jealousy. Over anyone. My dating memories are few and far between, and no one I’ve gone out with has lit a fire in my soul.
You’re not going out with Isla either.
I really need to shove my dating coach from my mind.
I return to the convo Mia and I had in the car before Jason called, thinking briefly, too, of the hate list my friends claimed I had. Would a world-class grinch do this though? “Cupcake, let’s go swing by the train and see what it’s called,” I say.
Mia whirls around and pumps a fist. “Yes!”
Wanda yips excitedly.
Ha. I’m not a hater at all. We pile back into the car, and I take the two of them to the train depot. We pop out and head into the tiny station. Mia points to the red and white sign for the Christmas train ride, hanging by the departures board. “It’s The Sleigh Bell Special. Like my book—”
“Sleigh Bell Scout,” I supply.
She beams. “You remembered.”
I ruffle her hair. “Of course I did. It’s your favorite.”
And like in hockey, when my vision narrows to the ice, the puck, and the action, I spot an opening in the Oliver Abernathy game.
My lips twitch in a grin as the words your favorite echo in my mind.