Page 22 of Grumpmas

“What?” I roared into the speaker of the phone. “It’s two o’clock in the morning, goddamn it.”

I should’ve ignored Noelle. Made her squirm more. I answered only out of spite.

“Mr. Timber?” a small voice answered. “Is that you?”

Oh, shit.The call wasn’t from Noelle. It was her daughter.

Faith sounded upset.

I cleared my throat. “Yes. It’s me, kiddo.”

I sat up in bed with several pillows propped up behind my back, and I moved the cell phone to my other ear. Tiny breaths puffed through the phone line, and I could tell Faith had been crying. She stifled sniffles, and I imagined her wiping her nose on her sleeve.

Fuck, man. Kids were gross.

“I cried myself to sleep, but...” Faith hiccuped. “I had a bad dream, and it woke me up.”

I tried with all my might not to let her night terror tug at my heart, but my worry for Faith won.

“What happened?” I asked.

I was out of bed, shirt already on with the buttons undone. Fully prepared to march over to Noelle’s before the sun rose and see Faith to make sure she was okay. I wasn’t supposed to give a shit, but I cared.

“Daddy won’t help me with the lead role in my Christmas concert. He’s too busy, but I need help,” Faith explained, hyperventilating.

“It’s okay, Faith.” I reached for the handle of my bedroom door. “Where’s your mom?”

“In bed,” Faith replied.

I stopped turning the knob. Heat seared through me like a fire burning and melting all the frozen anger inside of me. The image of Elle naked and under the bedsheets ignited to life an erection as hard as a motherfucking rock in my cozy green sleep pants.

I couldn’t go next door with a damn stiffy.

Goddamn you, little Elle.

I grumbled. “Well, go get her.”

“But Mommy knows nothing about the character I have to be.” Faith sighed in disappointment.

Right. We were still on the subject of her problem. The concert. Faith needed help, but there was no way I’d assist. I should keep my distance from Elle.

“She’ll have to learn. Won’t she?” I huffed bitterly. “Get your mother to run a damn Google search and don’t call me at the crack of dawn.”

“But I thought I could call you whenever—” I cut Faith off.

“I lied, kid.”

A moment’s pause.

“I’m sorry I bothered you, Mr. Timber,” Faith whispered.

Christ. I could picture the damn kiddo pouting on the other end. I was such a dick. My goddamn sour moodstemmed from being jolted awake, and the unwelcome thoughts of little Elle.

I had encouraged Faith to call me. Any damn hour of the day, but I didn’t think she would. I had let her down as much as her father did when she needed me most.

I had to fix this mess. Quick.

“No, wait, Faith. Don’t hang up,” I blurted. “I’ll assist you with whatever you need. I promise.”