Chapter 18 Red
Christmas Eve at Snowberry Lodge always had a hum to it, like the mountain itself was singing carols low and steady. Tonight, that hum filled Red’s bones while he sat at the head of the long kitchen table, watching his clan finish off the last bites of MJ’s prime rib and mashed potatoes.
Benny still wore his crooked tie from the school Christmas chorus event they’d all gone to earlier. Yes, it was just to watch him stand in the back row and move his mouth with all of them knowing full well their little “tech mogul” wasn’t singing a thing.
But Red didn’t care. He couldn’t love that kid more, even if he faked singing carols at school.
He sure was singing now. Chirping about a puppy, about how his idea saved the day, and—of course—how the video he’d just uploaded already had three thousand likes.
He passed around his mother’s phone, who had reluctantly let him use it. She’d promised to get another phone for Red, but he was perfectly happy without that stinking thing weighing down his pocket.
“You gotta look, Grandpa!” Benny exclaimed after Nicole watched and gave her approval, then handed the phone to Red.
He squinted at the screen. Oh, there he was sitting in the sleigh this afternoon, beard frosted with snow. At his ten-year-old director’s insistence, Red dropped the grumpy act—as much as possible—to deliver a heartfelt message about love, peace, and the birth of baby Jesus.
“How do you like that?” he said. “I didn’t have to beg anyone to come and visit.”
“Because we’re booked,” Cindy said with a smile.
“You saved December, Benny,” MJ said, reaching to smooth his hair. “We were scraping the bottom, and now look at us. Every room and cabin reserved through New Year’s.”
Gracie, arms folded, still shook her head and tsked at him, though there was no heat in it anymore. “Ten years old and running social media campaigns behind your mother’s back? What am I facing when you’re sixteen?”
“Oh, he’ll be the CEO of a company by then,” Jack joked.
Benny tried to look contrite but couldn’t stop grinning. “Worked, didn’t it?”
“Yes,” Gracie admitted with a sigh, then whispered, “but next time, you and Grandpa should ask first.”
Red snorted. “Won’t be a next time. I’m retiring from that job.”
All the faces around the table turned to him with a chorus of, “What?” and “You can’t quit!” and “You’re Grumpy Santa forever!”
He waved it all off, knowing deep in his heart…they would win.
Benny was up on his knees now, leaning over the table to look at Cindy. “So, ahem, Aunt Cindy. About that puppy…”
She raised both brows with mock surprise. “Puppy? I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart.”
Red sipped his coffee to hide the chuckle. She was lying smoother than fresh ice, because he knew for a fact that little teddy bear-looking mutt was sleeping in Jack’s cabin right now. The whole family did—except Benny.
The moment was warm as mulled cider, until Jack pushed back from the table. “Well, I hate to break this up, but I need to head out.”
Silence dipped around them. He’d warned them plenty that Christmas Eve was his end date. Vermont called, and, more specifically, his mother.
Nicole made a face. “I hate that you won’t be here tomorrow, Dad.”
“I do, too, honey. But the red-eye out of Salt Lake will get me back to Burlington in time to make Bertie’s Christmas brunch at the retirement center. I gave her my word I’d be there.”
They all started to get up and begin a round of hugs, high-fives, and goodbyes. Red noticed Cindy pick up a platter and step away toward the island, then slip out the mudroom door.
His heart hurt for her, so he covered by standing up, too, while they all wished Jack well and thanked him for the sleigh rides.
“I’ll walk you out, Jack,” Red said.
Benny piped up, “Can I—”
“Nope,” Red cut in. “Finish your pie.”
The two men stepped out into the hush of Christmas Eve snow, neither bothering with jackets for the short walk to Cabin One. Flakes sifted soft as powdered sugar, settling on their shoulders. The air bit sharp but clean, and the glow from the lodge windows spilled over the yard.
Jack jammed his hands into his pants pockets. “You don’t have to see me off, Red.”
“I do, though.” Red motioned toward the cabins. “Besides, I need to check on a certain four-legged surprise.”
Jack’s mouth twitched. “He’s curled up by the woodstove in his crate. Benny’s gonna flip.”
They crunched along the path, boots squeaking on snowpack. They made small talk—about reservations, how full the sleigh rides had been, even about Jack’s mother, who apparently ruled her retirement community back East like a benevolent monarch.
“She’s the Christmas queen,” Jack said with a shrug. “Organizes carols, makes sure no one’s alone. I owe it to her to be there tomorrow.”
Red nodded but couldn’t help the memory hitting hard—Jack leaving once before, on Christmas, walking away from Cindy and Nicole to do his fancy TV job.
“You sure this just isn’t you making the same mistake twice?” Red asked, his voice low because he hated that he had to ask.
Jack stopped, blinking at some snowflakes that fell on his lashes. “It’s different. Back then, I had my priorities screwed up. This time, I’m just going home for Christmas.”
“Mmm.” Red slowed his step. “And Cindy?”
Jack exhaled that breath hard, steam fogging the night. “Well, I asked her if we could…” He grunted. “She doesn’t want to try again. It’s that simple.”
Red eyed him. “You asked her?”
Jack nodded. “I did, but she was just dead silent. She might say she’s forgiven me—and she might really think she has—but deep inside? I don’t think she trusts me not to leave again.”
“So don’t.”
Jack gave a soft laugh. “Easier said than done.”
“Is it?” Red pressed. “I know you have a life in Vermont.”
“Not much of one,” he muttered.
“And your mother.”
“Who might not notice I’m here or…” He gave Red a hopeful look.
“Might want to come back here with me. Park City was her home until my dad decided he wanted to ‘retire’ in Vermont, which made no sense. Now he’s gone and if I were…
” His voice trailed off. “Doesn’t matter, Red.
Cindy’s moved on, built a life. Nicole, too. They don’t need me.”
Red rooted for the words to tell him how very wrong he was. But Jack was sixty years old—a grown man who didn’t need his former father-in-law telling him he was a fool.
“Are you sure of that?” Red asked, hoping to get Jack to see straight.
“I’m sure that I don’t know how to tell Cindy how I feel and what I want. I just don’t know how to tell her.”
The man’s voice cracked, and for once, Red saw not the smooth talker, not the championship athlete or the ESPN commentator, but just a man who loved a woman and had probably never stopped.
Red clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Son, you don’t need a sales pitch. You don’t need perfect timing. You just tell her. Straight as skis downhill. You love her, you say so. You want your family back, you say so. Cindy deserves that kind of honesty.”
Jack swallowed. “You make it sound easy.”
“’Cause it is. Hardest part’s stepping up. The rest is her call.”
They reached the cabin porch. Warm light glowed through the crack in the curtain. Red paused, letting the words hang.
Jack dragged a hand through his hair. “For what it’s worth, Red—I want to be a family again. I’m still in love with her. I always was and always will be. I love Cindy the way I did the day I married her. I just don’t know how to tell her.”
The cabin door creaked open, making them realize it hadn’t been fully closed.
Cindy stood there, cheeks flushed from the fire inside, cradling a bundle of light brown curls that squirmed in her arms. She’d clearly been tending to the pup, but her gaze was fixed on Jack, steady and unwavering.
“You just did,” she said softly.
Jack froze.
Red’s heart gave a satisfied thump. He stepped back into the snow, leaving the porch to them. “Guess my work here’s done,” he muttered, turning toward the lodge lights.
Behind him, the puppy yipped, Jack stammered, and he heard Cindy laugh, sounding a lot like that girl on the day she married Jack Kessler.
What do you know? Maybe Christmas still had a miracle or two up its sleeve.