I woke up Saturday morning stretched across my bed, noticing the empty space next to me. The sheets were cool. No note from Grey on the pillow. I frowned then peeled myself from under the covers and decided it was too cold to get out of bed just yet. I pulled my phone off the bedside stand, and sent Grey a text.
Good morning. Miss you.
I probably miss you more. It was lonely last night.
I sighed. What was it going to take to get him to come up here? Mason and his damned condo project could wait another week. I knew Mason wasn’t buried in work. He planned on seeing Taylor over the holidays. She was in the midst of serious holiday scheming where he was concerned. I had never seen my best friend so head over heels in love in all the years I had known her.
I typed to Grey.
There’s only one thing I want for Christmas.
What’s that, pretty girl?
You.
I waited. We were within the one-week Christmas window and buying a ticket now would cost a fortune, but for the first time, Grey could afford a small fortune on travel. Mason had bought in for his half of the condo deal. Grey was officially wealthy.
It seemed like an hour passed before he finally answered.
I’ll call you later.
Ugh! I threw the covers off my legs. I wondered if I promised to wrap myself in nothing but a red bow if that would entice him to make the trip. There had to be a way to get him here. I trudged to the bathroom to brush my teeth and start the shower.
I hated that Christmas maybe carried sad memories for him. But that was my job now—to help Grey create new memories. Happy memories.
I stepped into the steamy shower and lathered my hair. What if I cut my trip short? I could go back to Texas on Christmas night instead of the day after. At least that way we’d have the night together. I didn’t care if we went to Connor’s bonfire or stayed home on the couch watching It’s a Wonderful Life. We would at least be together. I rinsed the shampoo and conditioner from my hair and reached for a towel. Yes, that’s what I had to do. I’d tell my mom over coffee. She would understand that Grey was back home waiting for me. He was my home now and I had to do this.
I walked into the kitchen, my wet hair wrapped in a towel.
“Good morning, pumpkin.” My father sat at the table with the newspaper spread between his arms.
“Good morning, Dad.” I padded over to the coffee pot. “Where’s Mom?”
“Oh, she ran to the store for a minute. She said she was low on flour and sugar, and she is going to bake something today. She’s worried with the snow rolling in she won’t get back out.”
I laughed. “I thought cookie day wasn’t until Tuesday.” Of course, everyday leading up to Christmas was full of holiday goodies, but the schedule my mother put us on was comical at times.
“Funny, funny. You know how she is. She wants you to have all your favorites.”
“That’s sweet of her, but she doesn’t have to go to extra trouble. I’m fine with what’s already here.” I had seen the pantry—it was fully stocked with every sprinkle, type of sugar, and flour known to a baker. I couldn’t possibly imagine what else she needed to buy.
My dad turned in his chair to face me. “Eden, it’s not trouble. We both realize we don’t know how many Christmases we’ll have with you at home. She wants everything to be perfect for this one.”
I stopped in mid-stir. The sugar probably sank to the bottom of my mug. “It’s not my last Christmas, Dad.”
“When you have kids, you’ll know what I’m talking about. It’s not the last one, but they are all going to be different now. You have someone in your life, and at some point, you’ll have a family. And if you stay in Texas, you’re not going to drag everyone up here every year. We know how it works. We did the same thing. Just ask my parents. This is the reality of adulthood.”
I sat across from him, his words heavy like the gray clouds outside sinking around me. “So you and Mom are going above and beyond this year, huh?”
“It’s Christmas. We always go above and beyond.” He chuckled.
That was true. As an only child, I had grown up surrounded by double the love and attention. At Christmas, I think that meant double the presents and surprises. There was a reason it was my favorite holiday.
Suddenly, my idea to skirt out of here and have my parents drop me off at the airport on Christmas day seemed selfish. This wasn’t only my Christmas. This was their holiday too, with their only child. Dammit. Why couldn’t I have a sister?
I pulled the sweater tightly against my chest and tied the side tie at my hip. I had forgotten how bulky sweaters could be. My main wardrobe staple in South Padre was usually a tank top, and with good reason. It was hot.