Chapter 7 #2
Savannah remains unmoved.
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with that pretty next-door neighbor of yours, would it?”
I glare at my daughter-in-law … which, much to my chagrin, only makes her smile widen.
“I have zero idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh no? You don’t recall having to carry said neighbor out of her home last week when she fell? Or staying with her at the hospital? Or going over the next day to fix her door? Or—”
“The door was broken because I had to break in to get to her.” I throw my hands out to the side. “I broke it, I had to fix it. That was the right thing to do.”
Savannah’s lips twist in an expression that silently calls me a liar.
“And did you have to go back over the day after, too?”
“Her daughter asked me to help hang a couple of Thanksgiving decorations around the house. Was I supposed to ignore her?”
I skip the part where I took over a few of my Thanksgiving decorations to add to the ones Meghan bought.
Savannah shrugs. “I suppose you couldn’t have done that.”
“Right? What type of neighbor would I be?”
“And those?” She points to the golden and orange wooden carved pumpkins and candle set that sits on the couch in my office.
I swallow down the urge to curse. I’d forgotten to put those away so no one would see them before I had the chance to drop them off at Ellyn’s.
She might not want to decorate for the holiday—or be able to, given her injuries—but when I saw the decorations I knew they matched the wreath Meghan bought perfectly.
“Is it a crime to pick up a decoration or two for your neighbor? A neighbor, who by the way, is currently on bed rest from an injury? I’m just trying to inject a little holiday cheer into the woman’s spirit,” I defend.
“Can you believe she said she’s not going to decorate her house for the Christmas neighborhood competition?” I grunt and shake my head.
I still don’t understand it. Especially not after watching Ellyn’s YouTube videos. She has plenty of home decorating videos on her channel, including videos on how to entertain for different occasions.
One would think someone like her would be all about decorating for the holidays. But when it comes to her own home, she’s totally against it.
“Maybe she’s over it.”
Savannah’s comment calls my attention.
“Over it? How can you be over Christmas?”
She bursts out laughing, which makes Amelia laugh.
“Grandpa’s funny, right?” she asks Amelia.
“What’s so damn funny?”
“You. A big, strong, grumpy rancher like you who’s completely baffled that a woman would choose not to go all out for the holidays.”
“It’s not because she’s a woman,” I defend.
Savannah raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t it?”
“No. Christmas is a time for joy, and family, and love, and all of that sh—” I pause and glance over at Amelia who’s now watching this exchange between her mother and me. “... things. All of those things. Why would she not want to participate in that?”
“Maybe she is,” Savannah answers.
I side-eye her.
“In her own way,” she elaborates. “Perhaps she doesn’t need all of the decor and fuss to enjoy her holiday.”
“Nonsense.” I wave my hand, dismissing Savannah’s argument.
“I could be wrong. By the way …” she starts at the same time she goes over to pull Amelia out of the walker, “there is something else I need to tell you.”
My stomach drops.
“No conversation I’ve enjoyed has ever started off with those words.”
Her brows nearly touch her hairline. “No, it’s not a bad thing. I mean, not really. Depending on how you look at it.”
“You’re stalling.”
“I know.” Clearing her throat, she adjusts Amelia on her hip. “It’s about Gabe and Lena.”
My heart rate speeds up.
Savannah must notice the change in my demeanor because she holds out her free hand.
“No, they’re fine. It’s just … I spoke with Lena this morning. She wanted me to tell you that while the family will be able to return home for Thanksgiving, they’ll have to head out right afterwards. For her New York show on Friday night.”
“Right after? What, Friday morning?”
Savannah grimaces. “Thursday night.”
“Thursday,” I blurt out. “They won’t be here for Friday’s house decorating. First Aiden, now this.”
Decorating the family home the day after Thanksgiving is a tradition.
“You know Aiden feels terrible that he can’t be here this year,” she says of her oldest son.
“I know. He called me this morning to talk for a few minutes before his training.”
“Gabe was in a meeting and Lena was prepping for her show. They couldn’t get a hold of you this morning, so they wanted me to relay the message.”
I grunt. It’s bad enough they won’t get into Texas until Thursday morning, but to turn around less than twelve hours later to head back to New York, before we’re able to decorate the house? It is a damn shame.
Lena’s career as a singer and performer, and Gabe’s as a sports manager, keeps them both on the road a lot throughout the year. Their ten-year-old twins, Rachyl and Romy, often travel with them.
The holidays are one of the few stretches of time I get to see all of them in one place, at the same time.
“And, um …”
I push out a breath. “Just say it.”
“There’s a chance Ace and I won’t be able to do the family trip to Montana this year.”
“You’ve got to be shi—” I pause, looking at Amelia. “Tell me you’re pulling my chain.”
“Dad, between work and Ace’s limited time off, it might not be doable this year. Especially if we want to take the girls to see Aiden,” she adds. “You know Parker and Amelia miss their big brother.
“It’s only a chance, though,” she quickly adds. “We were just looking at flights and hotels and stuff last night. We’re a little late in booking, so spaces are limited.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to remind her that Christmas comes around at the same time every year and they should’ve been more on top of things when planning out this time.
The annual trip to Montana is another family tradition. One we often do sometime between Thanksgiving and Christmas.
“Fine,” I say instead of the many objections that pass through my mind.
“We’re going to do everything we can to make sure we don’t miss it, but I wanted to let you know just in case that’s not possible.”
I move toward Savannah and place a kiss on the top of Amelia’s head. She raises her little hand to my cheek. Her touch lightens the burden that’s now sitting on my chest.
Yet the moment I take a step back, the weight returns.
“I should go. I have to pick up Parker from basketball practice.”
“Yeah, tell the little sport Grandpa loves her.”
“You know I will,” Savannah says before kissing my cheek and pulling me into a hug. “Love you, Dad.”
“Yeah, love you, too,” I murmur because while she’s delivered some harsh news just now, I still get all warm inside when one of my kids tells me they love me.
Because for a man who once believed he was undeserving of love, it feels good to be loved anyway.