Chapter 53
In Tahoe City, it’s always a white Christmas. Freezing temperatures, snowstorms, and skiing—that’s what we know. I never dreamed I’d be spending Christmas in Ireland with my daughter and the best guy I’ve ever known. Just the three of us, plus a visit to meet his family.
I felt bad leaving Dad and Ella for the holiday, but they’ll be busy for most of the week in Reno anyway, and they both insisted that we go. They were very adamant about it.
Jess could hardly contain her excitement. She made a list of places she absolutely needed to see, and we’re doing our best to hit as many as we can.
Today we’re headed to his sister’s house for Christmas dinner, and eventually we’ll visit his parents’ old cottage. I can tell he feels uneasy about that part.
When he first asked me to come here just last week, I was hesitant.
Very hesitant, in fact. But after a long day of skiing last week, followed by a quick visit to Dorothy’s hot cocoa stand that somehow put me completely at ease, he finally wore me down.
And when I mentioned it to Jess, there was no turning back.
The only drawback was leaving the restaurant.
Winter holidays mean ski season, which means we’re busier than ever.
I hated leaving Dex and the rest of the crew with the extra workload, but he understood. He always does.
The week has already flown by, and it’s been incredible. No picture could ever do this countryside justice.
As we drive through the beautiful countryside on the way to his sister’s, I can’t help but feel nervous.
Very nervous. But the moment we pull up and meet her and the family, all of my anxiety fades away.
He has a few nieces and nephews slightly older than Jess, which she’s thrilled about.
Her excitement wins out over her shyness. They welcome her with open arms.
His sister, Shannon, hugs me right away, and I feel comfortable instantly, like I’ve known her forever.
She has Jameson’s striking blue eyes that I adore so much, though her hair is a pale blonde.
Her husband seems kind, if a little quiet.
He works remotely in accounting. The four of us talk while the kids run off, and Shannon stirs various dishes, refusing to let any of us lend a hand.
She grills me, but in a friendly, genuine way. It feels less like an interrogation and more like she truly wants to get to know me—not like she’s already decided not to like her brother’s girlfriend and to fish for reasons why. Definitely a good start.
“He’s never brought anyone back here to Ireland, you know,” Shannon tells me as I stand beside her in the kitchen, sipping a glass of wine.
“No?”
“Barely comes himself, actually. He’s been so busy. But the change in him since he came last year…I almost can’t believe it.”
“A good change, I hope?”
She nods at me, wide-eyed. “I couldn’t believe I was looking at my own brother then.
He just looked…worn. Like his eyes were empty.
Beyond the point of exhaustion. Some people are okay with selling their souls for that kind of life, but that’s never been him.
Though for a minute there…I was worried. ”
“He got out though…” I trail off, thinking of all the stories he’s told me. The blackmail, the shady business deals, trying to keep your morals among it all.
She smiles. “I’m so proud of him for staying true to who he is. He may have come out the other side a little more…harsh, but this world changes all of us, at least a bit.”
I glance into the other room and watch him. A smile lights up his face as he talks animatedly to Shannon’s husband, Conor.
“I think he turned out perfect,” I say softly, turning back to her.
**
Later, as we sit on the porch after dinner sharing drinks, I understand why Jameson had his awakening at this very spot.
They live in the country, and the scenery around us is breathtaking.
There’s no snow on the ground, which is a big change from Christmas at home, but the air still has a frigid bite to it.
We drink a little too much whiskey, so they insist on making up a guest room for us. Jess is thrilled to sleep with Jameson’s niece, Maeve, who is only two years older than her. Sleepovers are rare for her, so this feels like a huge deal. And their room is right next to ours, which puts me at ease.
After helping set up the room and tucking the kids in, we end up back on the porch in blankets for one last nightcap.
I sit snuggled against Jameson, my legs pulled across his lap as we share a blanket.
He smells as intoxicating as always, but the whiskey in me is making it seem even more irresistible than ever.
All I want to do is curl into him and never let go.
Even tipsy, I catch the looks Shannon keeps flashing us. She’s happy for him, I can tell.
“You guys are so incredibly cute,” she says finally. Her accent is thicker than Jameson’s. Probably from living back here again and being married to someone with an even heavier accent.
“Stop it, Shan.” Jameson smiles, shakes his head, and takes another drink.
I grin and rest my head on his shoulder.
We don’t last much longer after that, and eventually we settle into bed.
Before I drift off, I start to think about Rose again.
I’ve been so caught up in the moment on this trip that I haven’t thought much about her.
But now the mystery resurfaces, nagging at me.
If we don’t give it one last shot, it might drive me crazy.
“Jameson,” I whisper. I think he already dozed off a few minutes ago.
“Yeah, baby?” he murmurs sleepily, wrapping his arm around my waist.
“I think we need to go visit Rose.”
His fingers trace my side slowly. “Okay. But when? How?”
We’ve already discussed the logistics of it, and I decided it simply wasn’t doable right now.
Jess is with me full-time, and my dad and Ella are busy with treatments.
They’re the only people I trust to watch her while I leave the state, and they’ve got their hands full at the moment.
While we may have gotten her way too invested in it, I can’t possibly bring her along to meet an elderly woman who might be tied to a murder.
Even if my gut is telling me Rose isn’t guilty of anything.
For a while I’d resigned myself to the idea that we might never get answers. But lying here now, I feel the urgency. Sooner than later. Rose is old, and she may not be around much longer. Sonny’s recent passing is a reminder of that.
“I don’t know,” I whisper after a long pause. I think Jameson’s fallen asleep again, because his breathing is heavier and he doesn’t reply.