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“Humph,” he grunts out as he kicks the snow from his boots and looks around at us, his eyes landing on me. “Shelby, is it? Well, of course. You’re as beautiful as your mother was.”
I nod my head in silent thanks, studying him, like he’s studying me as he walks forward, not stopping until we’re practically toe-to-toe. Maintaining eye contact, I focus more on his face than the way he carries himself and all in all, I judge that the man before me is cut from the same cloth as my dad.
Just with a rustier pair of scissors.
“Hmm, you’re more like your dad though, aren’t you? I can see it in your eyes.” His evaluation of me, makes me grin as we continue to assess each other. “Max, looks like your dad, with your mother’s heart. Funny how that happens, isn’t it?”
I don’t think he wants an answer to any question he’s asked so far, so I focus on the point that’s most interesting to me. “You knew Max?”
“I know Max, yes. He’d come up to visit from time to time.” That news is surprising, as is his correcting my use of the past tense, Lee easily reads my reaction to his words. “You haven’t heard from him yet?”
“No. The last any of us heard, he was in the Middle East,” I tell him.
“But he was due to be rotated back,” Lee tells me. “Max isn’t why I’m here, though. That son of yours dropped off some meat, which I appreciate. What I don’t appreciate is being told that someone arrived all shot up and then not getting any more news.”
“Why don’t you sit by the fireplace?” I ask, as I digest everything he says about my brother, and motion to the fire that has roared continuously for months now. “Elsbeth’s stew is simmering, and I can offer you tea or water.”
“Here,” he replies, digging into the bag at his side as he makes himself comfortable in my father’s fireside chair. “I wouldn’t come empty handed, y’know. I ground those this morning.”
With that, he hands me what must be a three-pound bag of coffee and I give him the first real smile I’ve mustered in days. “Thank you! I’ll brew you a cup.”
“Lee.” My father’s voice startles me as he greets our guest. Looking at him, I nearly ask what he’s been up to. He’s obviously been hard at work outside, but I can’t imagine why he didn’t ask for help. “Shelby appreciates that more than you know. We’re trying to go cold turkey to save our coffee reserves for special occasions.”
“Mike.” Lee nods back at my dad, before looking at me. “Shelby, once that coffee’s ground up, it’s best to use it in the next couple of days, so you won’t be doing anyone any favors if you try to save some.”
“Not even here ten minutes, and you’re going to cause a mutiny, aren’t you, Lee?” The smile on my dad’s face softens his words and he goes to sit across from his neighbor.
“Perhaps it can be considered a Christmas present instead of a call to treason?”
Julia brings them both stew and sits with them, as they no doubt discuss the news that Dale brought us.
Me? Well, I’m content waiting for the coffee.
*
When Elsbeth joins us sometime later, she’s not the least bit surprised to see Lee sitting in the living room. While she looks as tired as my dad is, when Jace follows her in, carrying the largest smoked ham any of us have seen in a while, my emotions get the better of me.
I knew Christmas was upon us, but I didn’t stop to think of doing anything to mark the occasion.
We’re all busy. All of the time. And tired, at least I am, what with my little bun in the oven.
That night, as we break bread with Lee and Dale, we all start telling stories about our favorite Christmas memories—and that in itself is a gift. But not the only one.
My dad decided Christmas morning would be best spent engaging in a snowball fight. I was sidelined, due to mycondition, but he and Lee designated themselves team captains and made me the judge.
There’s no way they didn’t plan out their teams.
Dad claimed Russ, Dylan, Aiden, Rachel, and Trisha. And they squared off against Lee’s team: Julia, Jace, Eddie, Elsbeth, and Dale.
Lee’s team was looking good, at least until Jace nailed Trisha with a well-aimed snowball. Then Eddie turned on him and the whole thing turned into pandemonium. More than anything, it gave Aiden, Eddie, and Jace the opportunity to burn off some testosterone.
*
The next couple of weeks fly by and we’re all on edge as Steve heals. If anything, seeing the severity of his wound and the lack of formal medical care, caused Jace to stop complaining about taking watch. At least for a while.
“I think one or two of us need to slip down to town, see what’s happening,” Jace announces one night over dinner and Dale’s head whips in his direction.
“Not my decision, but I’d leave well enough alone if I were you,” he says, making eye contact with my dad.
