Page 21

21

TAYLOR

Dad and I are in his car, driving down to San Diego on Christmas Eve. I eye Dad sideways from the passenger seat, assessing how he’s doing. He’s always been lean, but he lost weight after the separation. Doesn’t look like he’s lost any more, though. His eyes are kind and warm as he smiles at me. “So how are you doing, Tater Tot?”

I laugh. “Daaaad. Don’t call me that.”

He chuckles too. “I’ll never stop calling you that. Someday you’ll have kids and they’ll love it.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m never having kids.”

“Phhht.”

“Nope. Not falling in love, not getting married, not having kids.”

He frowns. “You love kids.”

“Yeah, I do.” I pause. “But I work with them every day. I won’t miss not having my own.”

Dad shoots me a curious glance, like he’s not sure if I’m joking or serious. “Where’d this come from?”

I lift one shoulder, not looking up.

“Have you talked to your mom?”

He knows that I found out about Mom and Shirley, and that I was having a hard time with it.

“Yes. Just the other day. I went over to give her a Christmas present and we talked. Things are okay. It’s going to take me some time to . . . process things. I still feel like she’s to blame for this.”

“I don’t want you to blame anyone,” he says quietly, staring straight ahead, his jaw set. “There’s no one reason our marriage ended. There’s no one reason people get married. No one reason we stayed together thirty-two years. Relationships aren’t just one thing; they’re a million things, a million moments, some little, some huge. And there’s no one reason a marriage ends. So don’t look for someone or something to blame.”

My heart constricts. I don’t want to make this all emotional and weird, though. “Okay,” I manage to say. “I . . . She says she really loved you.”

He swallows. “Yeah. And I believe her.”

“Did you doubt it, though? You must have questioned it . . .”

He clears his throat. “Honestly, I didn’t. Your mom and I had a lot of wonderful years together. I believe she loved me.”

Wow. Dad is so strong. So . . . decent. He’s a good man. “Are you really doing okay?”

“I really am. Don’t worry about me, Tater Tot.”

I huff out a small laugh.

“It’s hard, not gonna lie,” he says. “But sometimes doing what you have to do to be happy is hard. It takes a lot of strength, but that’s what tough times teach us . . . how strong we are. I’m going to be just fine.”

“Okay, good.”

“It’s not because of us that you think you’ll never get married, is it?”

I sip coffee from the travel mug I’m holding. “If you two couldn’t make it, who can?”

“Don’t think like that. Lots of people make it. And you have so much love in you.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I’m choking up again.

He’s right. I’ve always felt that way. I love dogs. I love kids. I love life. I love . . . love.

I’ve been telling myself I don’t care about love, but it’s not true. I still want it.

I think . . . I want it with JP.

Especially after last night. We talked about my visit with my mom, and he was so supportive and understanding. We opened our gifts and he couldn’t have given me anything better. I touch the golden sunflower nestled between my breasts and almost tear up all over again.

And he made me see stars . . . no, not just stars. He made me see the sun, the moon, the planets . . . with his usual generosity, he gave me everything, and I tried to give it all back to him.

Dad and I talk more as we drive, the Pacific glinting blue and silver on our right as we cruise along the highway that hugs the coast. We talk about his business, the house he’s going to make an offer on, funny stories from the kids I work with. And when we grow quiet, I think more about what he said earlier. About the moments. A million little moments.

The look on JP’s face when he opened my gift to him. His nervousness when I opened mine. Those were moments . . . small but weighty. Fleeting but momentous.

Relationships are hard. I guess. It’s been a while since I had one, and I don’t know if my two college boyfriends even count as that. What I feel with JP seems . . . different. Bigger. Important. It feels like . . . everything I ever wanted or needed or even imagined having.

When I used to believe in big, beautiful forever love.

JP

In my own defense, I’ve been a little distracted, thinking about Taylor. That must be why I decided at the last minute to bring Byron to Grandpa and Chelsea’s place for Christmas dinner.

I don’t even want to go. At Thanksgiving, I vowed I would be the one to host so I could get totally shitfaced and not have to drive anywhere, but that’s not happening. Maybe with a little more time, I could have gotten someplace to cater a turkey dinner, but I’m sure as shit not cooking a turkey myself. I don’t even know how to cook a turkey.

Byron’s happy to jump into my car. He probably thinks we’re going to the beach or to see Taylor. “No such luck, buddy,” I tell him glumly. “I need you tonight to distract my family from giving me shit, okay?”

He looks like he’s smiling back at me. I give him a thumbs-up.

Christ. I’m talking to him like he’s a person. The same thing I used to tease Taylor about.

I went over to Mom and Dad’s place this morning to exchange gifts. Théo and Lacey were there too, all cute and in love. I can’t believe it, but they make me miss Taylor.

Byron’s pretty excited when we get to Grandpa’s. He has no idea where we are and he bounds around the house checking things out, sniffing crotches and searching out food. Everyone loves him, so that’s good.

“Oh, a dog!” Chelsea exclaims. “Come here, boy! What’s his name?”

“Byron.”

“Such a good boy!” She gives him love and attention, which the dude enjoys. I don’t blame him. Isn’t that what we all want? “Is this the dog you’re looking after?”

“Yeah.”

“We need children,” Mom says. “Les enfants. Christmas is so much fun with children. Why do we not have any grandchildren here?”

“We do.” I point at myself, then Théo.

“Tu te crois malin,” she says, basically calling me a smart-ass. “I mean babies. You and Théo need to get going on that.”

“Up to you, bro,” I tell him. “Not happening here.”

“Oh, come on.” Lacey winks at me. “You and Taylor could have beautiful babies.”

“Oh!” Mom looks at me hopefully. “Are things getting serious with you two? I wish she was here! I want to meet her!”

I take the drink Chelsea offers me. Man, I need this.

Luckily, Harrison arrives, so Mom’s distracted by greeting him. And he brought a woman. Jesus, it’s Christmas dinner with the Wynn family—is he insane? He introduces her to us.

“Hi, Jackie, nice to meet you.” I shake her hand. She looks like every other woman Harrison has dated—beautiful, slender, long blond hair.

When Harrison gets to Grandpa, Grandpa smiles at Jackie and says, “Hello, Jenny!”

Harrison frowns and says in a low voice, “It’s Jackie, Grandpa.”

Grandpa apparently doesn’t hear him, and says to Jackie, “So nice to see you again.”

I exchange a look with Théo. None of us have ever met this woman before . . . has Grandpa?

Nope.

“You haven’t met Jackie before, Grandpa,” Harrison says, shooting Jackie an apologetic glance.

Grandpa frowns. “She was at the wedding with you.”

Harrison’s face turns scarlet. I smirk, betting he probably wants to drop through the floor. “That was Jenny. This is Jackie.”

Grandpa frowns and gives Jackie an up-and-down look. “She looks just like Jenny.”

“He’s not wrong,” I murmur to Everly.

She chokes on a laugh. “Nope.”

“Well, at least you’re not dating your brother’s girlfriend,” Grandpa says to Harrison.

Zing. Yes, I felt that burn.

Just why I didn’t want to come. That’s probably the first of many.

We’re all distracted at that moment by a loud bang and sizzle in the corner of the living room. The women scream and the men shout.

“What the hell?” Grandpa yells.

My gaze falls on Byron just lowering his leg at the tree. Smoke drifts around him.

“Fire!” Riley cries.

“Oh my God!” Mom and Chelsea squeal.

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” Dad shouts.

“Oh my Christ.” I rush over to Byron and spy the puddle. “Byron!”

His head goes down.