Chapter 48 Adult Christmas
ADULT CHRISTMAS
ROWAN
I can definitely get behind an adult Christmas.
My arm is wrapped around Isla, her hair fanned out across the pillow, a glittering wonderland beyond the window.
I’m awake first, but I just don’t want to get out of bed. Imagine that.
I lean in close and inhale her hair, and it’s fantastic. Hell, everything’s fantastic right now—this warm cabin, the snowfall, and the little dog wedged between us on the pillows.
Life is good.
Even though I should be freaking out—I have a date, after all. How the fuck did that happen?
And yet, I’m not.
It’s weird.
Totally weird. But then, as I look at Isla, sound asleep, a serene expression on her face, maybe it’s not weird.
Maybe it makes sense.
She never gave up on me. She never stopped believing in the magic of romance. She never let go of the idea that I could be better than a romance hater.
And here I am…ready to date her.
I huff out a laugh, and she stirs, stretches, then mutters a sleepy good morning.
It’s a new day, all right. And I want this whole real thing to start now. Not in San Francisco. Not after Christmas. Now.
With us doing…life. Like we did last night when we wrapped some of Mia’s gifts and put them under the tree.
“Want to walk my dog with me in the snow?”
She pushes up on one elbow. “You’re going to walk Wanda in six inches of snow?”
“Six inches? More like eight,” I say, then my gaze drifts down to my pelvis, since I’m mature like that.
“My favorite amount.”
“And yes, I am. She loves a snow walk.”
Isla shoots me a skeptical look but says, “Sure.”
A little later, we’re walking Wanda down the driveway, and she’s leaping through the snow.
“Are you kidding me?” Isla asks, her jaw agape.
“Told you so.”
“She’s like a tiny fox or something.”
“I know, right?”
“I didn’t know little dogs liked snow.”
But here she is—my little Chihuahua-Pomeranian-Papillon mix—hopping through the drifts. For all of the driveway, anyway. When we reach the end, she jerks her gaze to me and whimpers, which loosely translates to that’s enough, Dad in dog.
I bend down, scoop her up, and tuck her into my jacket. “Wanda likes short walks in the snow.”
“I like longer ones,” Isla says. “With you.”
And my heart does something funny in my chest as we walk down the street, our boots sinking into the powder, my dog in my arms.
“I want a raincheck for last night—dinner with you, Mia, and my parents,” I say.
“I’d love that.”
I can already start to see beyond Evergreen Falls. And it looks good.
Around nine, the snowplow comes by and cleans the street. It’s time to get moving. I have morning skate soon and it’s optional, since we have an early afternoon game that my whole family’s coming to. But there’s no reason to skip the game-day practice now that the roads are clear.
This evening Mia has a cookie-making class with Wilder’s daughter and her friends—her idea, her plans.
That also makes it easier for me to attend the date Isla’s planned for us tonight.
It won’t be a long one since the class ends at eight.
But I’ll take whatever I can get since our situationship will end…
wait. Nope. It won’t end. What a strange, new thought.
“Funny, how when you started planning the date for this evening, it was going to be one of our last ones,” I say, musing on the topic.
“Just this and then the gala,” she says.
“And now, it won’t be. See you after the game,” I say when we’re standing by her car door. “Can’t wait to see what you’ve planned.”
“If only you’d been quiet on the sleigh.”
I say what I said that night: “I have no regrets.”
And truly, I don’t.
After I take down the tree farm and straighten up the cabin, I pop over to the arena for morning skate, then rush to my parents’ house to pick up Mia. I won’t have much time with her, but at least I can feed my kid lunch before the hockey game.
We swing by Rudy’s since Mia likes their cheese sandwiches. The woman who runs the place seems to be fighting off a smile as I order. “And are you in the mood for dessert?” she asks, with a twinkle in her eye.
Ummm. Does she know about the night on the patio? No idea, but I shove it out of my mind as I say, “No thanks.”
I dive into a meal with Mia. She catches me up on last night with my parents, and I shouldn’t feel guilty she was with them and not me.
Isla’s right—my parents want to be part of Mia’s life.
But a part of me still feels bad I missed last night’s Advent calendar with her.
I’ll give it to her this evening though.
When we’re done eating, she comes with me to the arena. There’s a family suite here too, like there is back in San Francisco, so I drop her off with the sitter. Tyler’s kids are here already too, so Mia’s got friends.
I go into game mode next, stretching in the gym and blasting The White Stripes.
But when I head to the locker room to suit up, something nags at me.
I’m not sure what it is exactly. But as I pull on my shoulder pads, an insistent sense that I forgot something gnaws at me.
Wanda’s safe and sound at home with plenty of water.
That’s not it. I bought my parents’ Christmas gifts.
So that’s not the issue. I even left out Mia’s wrapped book for tonight’s calendar.
No clue what I forgot, but I’d better put everything out of my mind when we hit the ice. It’d be a nice Christmas present to skate off with a W.
But you don’t always get what you want. Pretty sure Chicago doesn’t want to be here two days before Christmas either, since they’re playing like they have a flight to catch.
We’re skating like we’re sleeping. It’s a weirdly low-energy game for the Sea Dogs. No idea why, but maybe it’s last night’s snow.
We end the game with a big fat zero on the scoreboard and a loss.
I toss my helmet in my cubby in frustration, but then I try to shake it off. We’ve got nearly a week off. Time to make the best of the downtime and start up again later this month in better shape.
“See you all tomorrow,” I say as I leave the locker room.
“Wait,” Wesley calls out. “You got a date tonight? You need help?”
He says it so earnestly. I’m almost tempted to tell them they’re such great wingmen that they helped me find something I thought I might not find again. But something stops me. Is it that nagging sense I forgot something? Or is it that maybe now’s not the time? That has to be it.
“Yep, but she’s planning it, so I’m all set.”
“Make sure to wear your powder-blue ruffled tux tomorrow then for the gala,” Ford calls.
“Yeah, ladies love ruffles,” Miles deadpans.
“Noted,” I say, grateful I won’t need to tell them all their help was for nothing.
I won’t ever need to tell them I was putting them on since we’ll just coast right into…
well, whatever this thing is with Isla. Tonight, she only told me to be ready to meet her at six-fifteen and she’d text me the location.
You only have one real date planned, a voice says. But I bat that thought away as I swing by the family suite to pick up Mia. I need to help her get ready for the cookie-making class before I go to my surprise date with Isla.
That’s what Mia keeps calling it as we hop in the car.
“Aurora is hosting it with someone named Mabel. She’s a guest baker,” Mia says, chattering about the class from the back seat as I drive her home.
“I looked her up last night, and she makes the best decorations on her Christmas cookies. She can do Santa faces and wreaths and all kinds of snowflake designs. But she can also do heart-shaped cakes for Valentine’s Day and Halloween cakes in the shape of ghosts.
Oh, and she does rainbow cakes too. But I’m not going to do rainbow cakes for Christmas.
I’m just saying, someday that would be fun. ”
My head explodes from the baking intel, but I do my best to keep up with it. “All right, so what do you need to bring today? Tell me everything and I’ll help you get it ready,” I say, since maybe it’s the baking class details that I needed to remember?
Whatever it is, I’ll figure it out since I’m in super-dad mode now. I have to be.
“I need my apron, and I need to bring a notebook if I want to write down recipes. But I’m also going to need my special snowflake sprinkles.”
My brow knits as we pull up to the house. “Do we have special sprinkles?”
Shit. She asked me to pick them up and I forgot.
The class provides everything, but she wanted to make some cookies with a snowflake design she saw online.
She researched the sprinkles and everything and sent me a link.
I’d even checked and found the local grocery store had them.
“Mia,” I say, my gut swirling with regret.
“I forgot to get those. But don’t worry.
We can swing by the grocery store beforehand. ”
That’ll make me a little late to see Isla, but she’ll understand. I’ll text her when I figure out the new time.
“Oh. I left you the list yesterday. But it’s okay. We can go on the way. I hope they still have the sprinkles.”
“I doubt the whole store ran out.” But what if they did?
We reach our cabin and I cut the engine, then trudge through the snow. I check the time. I should be fine. I’ll help Mia get her things, make a healthy snack, let the dog out, pick up the sprinkles, and make it to—wherever I need to be.
Mia will be at the class while I’m out with Isla. When we’re done, I’ll spend some time with Mia, I’ll give her the Advent gift, and have her read a chapter. It’ll all work out.
We head inside. After we let Wanda out for a quick pee break, I point to the kitchen. “Let’s get your things together first.”
“Yes! I need to find that apron I brought from San Francisco.”
“What does it look like?”
“It says Christmas Cookie Tester on it.”
I draw a blank, so she keeps going.
“I got it at the Christmas fair at school. The one where the money went to charity.”
Still not ringing a bell. “Have I seen it?”