Chapter 9 Cooke
COOKE
I shouldn't have accepted her offer of a place to sleep. For her, it was just an innocent gesture. A way of thanking me for spending time with her brother. For starting a fire they desperately needed.
It means so much more than that for me.
Gavin is sleeping soundly on the mattress we'd pulled from his bedroom.
It's a twin and he's laying diagonally across it.
When I pointed it out, Gretchen just shrugged and said that's how he's always slept.
I told her she should claim the couch. She argued, but it was short lived.
Probably because I made it clear I wasn't going to change my mind.
Now I'm sitting with my back against one of the walls, close enough that I can tend the fire as it dies down.
The howling of the wind has lessened, but the snow is still falling.
I check it regularly. My car is an encased lump of snow out there, and it will be a task digging it out eventually.
A smile tugs at my lips as I imagine offering to pay Gavin for his scooping services.
“You don't smile often.” Gretchen states the observation softly, but that doesn't change the truth of it.
“You should be sleeping.” When I look over at her, her pretty face is focused on me. “And I only smile when it really matters.”
Her lips turn down and I feel the sudden urge to cross the distance between us. To kiss the sadness so clearly displayed there away. I don't want her feeling sad about anything, least of all me.
“You didn't want to work on the Christmas tree tonight. Thank you for doing it anyway.”
That statement hits me hard. In the gut. It's proof she sees through me and the tough exterior. Maybe it's the fact that I'm tired or the coziness of the room we're sharing, but I don't feel the need to hide like I normally do.
“I never really had much of a Christmas growing up.” I pause, expecting her to ask a question or make some kind of consoling remark.
Instead, she just waits, and I can't hold back giving her more insight into my life.
“I was a foster kid, shuttled between families whenever it was convenient for them.
Never really had a place where Christmas was a real thing.
I mean they celebrated, sometimes, but I was usually just someone that was there, not a real part of the family.
So I wasn't really ever included. Maybe a random gift here and there, something picked up last minute before the stores closed. Usually, I just watched as their real kids opened everything and counted myself lucky to get to eat extra food. Still kind of love the cheap, boxed stuffing you can buy at the store. Fills you up.”
We're both quiet after that. A log crackles and snaps in the fireplace, a flurry of sparks erupting.
I get up and grab another log, ready to add it to the fire.
“I like boxed stuffing too.” She smiles at me when I look over at her. “It's comforting. There's just something about it. Gavin likes it too. It'll definitely be part of our Christmas dinner. I'll make extra this year.”
My throat closes up, chest going tight as emotion floods through me. “You don't need to do that, Gretchen.”
“You're invited. Extra boxed stuffing will be on the table whether you join us or not. It's up to you. Just know Gavin and I would both enjoy having you here.”
She levels one more look at me, then rolls over, leaving me to deal with my own thoughts alone.
I know she can't fully understand what her invitation means to me. And there's a part of me that says it shouldn't mean as much as it does. I'm a successful, smart businessman. I make deals all the time. Practical ones that make me and my friends money.
Friends like Merritt. Who just told me I needed to find more in life than just the next deal.
Steadying the log, I carefully slip it into place in the fire and then close up the doors once more. The sensation in my chest is still there and I rub it, wondering why this all matters so much to me.
I wonder, but it feels like I already know the answer.