Page 25 of Johan. (Van Den Bosch #8)

Hannah

I sit on the edge of my bed, the phone in my hand feeling heavier than ever.

The room is quiet except for the soft ticking of the clock on my nightstand.

Morning light streams through the window, casting a warm glow over my quilt.

The world outside is starting to bustle with the activities of a Saturday morning, but inside, I’m a bundle of nerves.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady the fluttering in my stomach, and dial Oma’s number.

Each ring seems to stretch out, the seconds dragging on until, finally, she answers.

“Darling, what a surprise!” Oma’s voice crackles through the line, warm and comforting.

I grip the phone tighter, my knuckles turning white. “Hi, Oma. How are you?” I try to mask the tremble in my voice, but it slips through.

“I'm good, dear. Busy with the Christmas decorations. You know how it is. Stuart! I said white and gold, not red!” The background noise makes me long for the cozy chaos of her home.

I take another deep breath, my eyes scanning my room for reassurance. The soft light filtering through the curtains, the framed photos on my dresser—they all seem to blur together. “Oma, I have a favor to ask.”

There’s a brief silence, then a shift in her tone. “Oh? What kind of favor?”

I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. “I was wondering if I could bring a guest to the Christmas week at your place.” The words tumble out in a rush, faster than I intended, leaving me breathless.

The pause stretches on, my heart pounding in the silence. “And I assume the guest in question is an engaged man?”

My face flushes with heat, and I clutch the phone tighter, my pulse quickening. “Oma! You know the reason.”

“I know, I know…” Her amusement is evident, a gentle teasing that does little to calm my nerves. “Does anyone else know that you and him are together?”

I stare down at my toes curled into the carpet, my mind racing. “Just Mom.”

“Oh dear... I can't wait to see the face of your dad.” Oma’s chuckle is rich and full of mischief, a stark contrast to the tension coiling in my chest. “It's going to be worth it.”

A reluctant smile tugs at my lips, the edges of my anxiety beginning to fray. “So, it's okay?”

“Of course, Hannah. I wouldn't miss this for the world. Bring Johan. We'll have a wonderful Christmas.”

Relief floods through me, warming my chest and easing the knot in my stomach. “Thank you, Oma. You're the best.

Her tone shifts again, grounding me. “Just promise me one thing.”

I sit up straighter, anticipation tightening my muscles. “Anything.”

“Don't let your father get too worked up. It's Christmas, after all.”

A light laugh escapes me, the tension melting away. “I promise.”

“And one more thing,” Oma adds, her voice turning sly, almost conspiratorial. “I'm booking a jet to fly you and Johan directly to my home on Christmas Eve Thursday morning. That way, you'll have a bit more privacy.”

Astonishment floods through me, my eyes widening in disbelief. “Wow, Oma. Thank you! If I didn’t know you any better, I’d swear you’re doing this to stir up some drama.”

Sarcasm drips from my words, and Oma laughs.

“Oh, Hannah, you know me too well," she says with a playful tone. “I do enjoy seeing Elise and Sebastian a little ruffled now and then. You bringing Johan will certainly add a delightful twist to the mix.”

I shake my head, a smile playing on my lips. “You're incorrigible, Oma.”

“Maybe so, but it’ll make for an entertaining Christmas.” Her chuckle is infectious, lightening the air. “See you soon, dear.”

“See you soon.” Hanging up, I let out a long breath, letting all the nervous energy go out.

The room seems brighter now, the shadows less intimidating. I set the phone down and lean back, staring at the ceiling. Christmas at Oma’s is going to be interesting, to say the least.