He knew he was up for good now. Rather than toss and turn, he slipped out of bed, grabbed some clothes and his phone, and went out to revive the fire in the stove that had died overnight.
He added a couple birch logs, hoping the papery bark would ignite from the coals and get things going again. He’d just checked the weather on his phone when it vibrated in his hand, indicating an incoming message.
He exited and went to look, and his heart jumped up in his throat as the latest picture of Nora showed in a little block in the conversation. Janice had sent through another picture.
He touched the image with his finger and his daughter’s face filled the screen, all light curls and brown eyes and bewitching smile. Lord, she was beautiful. The eyes were his, but everything else was her mother. It was disconcerting.
His throat tightened.
He closed the pic and went back to the conversation. Janice had typed something with the attachment.
Latest of Nora, when we put up the Christmas tree. She’s asleep but looking forward to next weekend.
His thumbs hovered over the keyboard. Finally, he typed in a reply.
Me too. What are you doing up so early?
The answer came back immediately.
Nora has a cold. I’ve been up to give her medication and cuddles. Now I can’t sleep.
You and me both, he thought, but in his case it was thinking about the woman he’d be spending the day with and there was no way in hell he’d type that message to his ex.
There were days—a lot of them—that he felt badly he hadn’t given Nora a two-parent home. The truth was, he hadn’t really, truly been in love with Janice. He’d been trying to make a romance out of a friendship, and that just didn’t work. He thanked God that they were able to maintain an amicable relationship.
I was thinking of getting Nora a Christmas present. Any suggestions?
He didn’t even know his own kid well enough to shop for a Christmas gift.
A few minutes later a reply came.
She’s going through a puppy stage. DO NOT GET HER A PUPPY. The stuffed kind would be nice though.
He gave a huff of laughter at the all-caps. Oh, wouldn’t that leave Janice fit to be tied, if he got a real dog? But he wouldn’t pull that kind of trick.
Good to know, he typed. Do you need anything?
This time the answer was quick to come back. Brian and I are managing fine, Dave. Don’t worry.
Better go. See ya.
He got out of the conversation and put the phone on the coffee table. He was glad she’d sent the picture. Glad they’d chatted—even if it was just texting back and forth.
Then he thought about Charlie, and the way that she kissed, and his pulse leapt. That was all it took. Just a thought and his body reacted. He wondered why. Wondered if it was just a symptom of his long dry spell, or if it was something more. Something that was distinctly Charlie that caused him to get the automatic sense of urgency and protectiveness. And how much he should act on it.
Maybe first he should figure out if it was really real.
He sat in the corner of the sofa until daylight began to filter through the windows, and then he got up and started making coffee.
*
The sun was out and the air was crisp and cool as they made their way down the hill to where the main shops were. Already crowds of people were milling about, carrying shopping bags, bundled up in winter clothes and sipping from paper cups of coffee or hot cider. Charlie nudged Dave’s elbow and grinned. “Every store has a themed Christmas tree, see?”
They were at the far end of Main, where the shops began, and the first store was the bakery. A fat pine tree sat in the corner of the veranda, and it was decorated with ornaments shaped like cupcakes, cookies, loaves of bread, and kitchen utensils. Today, instead of wheeling the stroller through the crowds and packed stores, she had Daniel tucked into a Snugli carrier where he stayed warm and secure against her chest. The weight felt foreign but somehow nice too, and it left both hands free for shopping bags and browsing. Not to mention the baby seemed to love being snuggled as she carried him around.
“Shortbread,” Charlie announced. “I’m fueling this shopping trip with shortbread.” She grabbed Dave’s hand and dragged him along, into the full shop that was noisy and squished and smelled like vanilla and fresh bread and cinnamon.