“You’ll get it right and if it takes you a long time, no one’s going to say a word. Just say what you feel.” Cara offered.
Nick sighed and then nodded. “I guess you’re right.” He studied her for a moment. “Luke isn’t here.”
“I’m not here for Luke.” She said and sat in the empty seat in front of his desk. “I found a box after Jake passed away. It was full of journals he wrote when he was sick.” She watched as he looked down for a moment.
“I gave him the journals.” Nick said.
“That’s not all that was in the box.” She said and slid a silver wrapped box almost the same size as the one Jake had left behind for Sam. “He left instructions to give this to you before you, and I quote, ‘Marry the hell out of Sam’.”
Nick stared at the box for a moment his hands stretched out to take it, but never did. It was as if he was afraid to touch it, like it would disappear if he did. He lifted his eyes to Cara and she nodded encouragingly.
He blew out a breath and took the box gently in his hands, lifting the corners of the wrapping paper ever so delicately. He looked at the white box that had a note scribed to the top of it. Nick cleared his throat and read.
“Mr. Suit and Tie, you probably have a pair of these babies already. But help a brother out and wear them when you marry my sister. Your brother from another mother, Jake.”
He flipped the box open and stared at the silver cufflinks, a gift from his brother.
December 15
Luke sat in Pete’s chair at Riverdale Ink with his forearm flexed as Pete traced the buzzing needle over his skin. He finally was putting the finishing touches of the warrior on his arm. He looked towards the front of the shop at Cara, who was sitting on top of the front counter smiling at him. He winked at her and looked back down at his arm as Pete inked Jake’s name in italics below the warrior.
December 16
Cara carried a step stool tucked under her arm as she walked into the kitchen. Luke was cooking dinner, one of his three specialties. She placed the step stool beside him and climbed it.
“What’re you doing?” He asked amused. He put the wooden spoon down in the spoon rest and leaned a hip on the counter, turning his body to face her. She whipped something out from behind her back.
“It’s tradition! You have to kiss me under mistletoe.” She grinned at him as she held it over his head. He glanced upward and then back down at her feet that were on tiptoes as she wiggled the mistletoe over their heads. He took a step to her, wrapping one arm around her waist as he leaned into her. His lips fused with hers wondering if she knew she was becoming the meaning of Christmas to him.
Chapter Seventeen
Cara dug into her purse for some coins to feed the parking meter. It was a typical brutally cold day in upstate New York. The weather forecast was calling for another snow storm and she was currently trying to beat it. She drove two towns over, when she located the hobby shop that had the perfect Christmas present, for Luke. She had a half hour on the meter and figured that was enough time. She called beforehand and spoke to the sales clerk, so they were holding the gift behind the register for her.
Her phone rang in her coat pocket and she glanced down at the caller ID. Luke would have to wait. She would call him after she completed her shopping trip. After all, the meter was running and the sky was becoming gloomier by the minute. She silenced her phone and glanced at the traffic coming from both directions before she ran across the street. The door chimes sounded when she stepped inside the hobby shop, yet she didn’t see anyone. That was probably because she was the only Christmas-crazed idiot shopping when the state officials were warning people to stay indoors and wait the impending storm out. Oh well, the look on his face would be worth it… she hoped.
“Hello?” Cara called into the quiet store as she began to check out her surroundings. The shelves were full of a variety of things. Some she supposed people enjoyed making themselves, like model airplanes. Other shelves showcased a variety of things that required no assembly, but were simply made to sit on a shelf and collect dust, hoping one day they would be worth a small fortune. Her gift that was being held by the phantom clerk didn’t fit into either of these categories. It was the sentiment behind it that mattered.
She reached the counter and heard a girl’s voice. “I’ll be right with you.” She said to Cara, but still Cara couldn’t make eye contact because the girl was crouched down behind the counter. “Dad, I have one customer and then I’ll lock up and be outside. Okay, okay! I will hurry. Read the newspaper or something.” She said before ending her call. She bounced up, and faced Cara her smile infectious.