You’re leaving.
I don’t say it out loud, but it’s true. I can’t drop my guard and rely on him now because he’s about to leave, and then it’ll be all up to me anyway.
But I don’t say anything. The extra help that he’s willing to give me now is just that: extra. I’ll take it.
But I won’t learn to expect it.
And I can’t get used to it.
“Your brain is moving way too fast.”
I laugh and then yawn. “Actually, I’m really tired. The combination of martinis and cold weather have knocked me on my ass.”
“You drank?”
“Of course, I drank. She had hot chocolate martinis, Sam. No one in their right mind could pass that up. But don’t worry, I didn’t drink too much, and I spaced them out. I was perfectly sober.”
“I know you’re not stupid enough to drink and drive.”
He kisses my head.
“Do you want tea?”
“No.” I yawn again. “I want to sleep.”
Chapter 16
~Sam~
“What about carrots?” Kelsey asks as we set a plate of cookies, complete with a glass of milk, on a table by the Christmas tree.
“What about them?” I ask.
“We have to leave something for the reindeer,” Kevin jumps in to add. “They’ll be so hungry after all of that flying.”
“Right.” I look over at Tash as she walks into the room. “Do we have any carrots?”
“I don’t think so.” She frowns. “Why?”
I relay the important information about the eating habits of Santa’s reindeer.
“We have apples,” Tash announces. “Reindeer like apples. I’ll just cut one up.”
“That was a close call,” Kelsey says to her brother.
God, they’re funny. And they’re changing so quickly. Kelsey doesn’t have any issues with her Rs anymore. They’ve grown at least three inches in the last six months. And the things they randomly say have Tash and I looking at each other in both amusement and surprise.
“Okay, it’s time for bed,” Tash announces. “But first, we have to have a serious conversation.”
“Okay.” Kelsey gives Tash her undivided attention.
“You know in the song, Santa Claus is Coming to Town, it says ‘He knows when you are sleeping?’” Tash asks. Both kids nod. “Well, it’s true. He does know when you’re sleeping, and if you get out of bed on Christmas Eve, he’ll skip our house.”
“No way,” Kevin says in awe.
“It’s true,” Tash says. “I don’t make the rules.”
I grin, standing behind the kids so they can’t see me.
She totally makes the rules.
“So we have to stay in bed,” Kelsey says. “All night?”
“That’s right,” Tash says and kisses her blonde head. “But that’ll be easy-peasy because you have your new comfy jammies and your new bedding so you’ll be all snug and sleepy.”
“Good night,” I say, and after one last round of excited hugs and a reminder to stay in bed, Tash takes them back to tuck them in.
I pour us each a glass of wine and am waiting on the couch for her when she returns.
“They’re so excited,” she says with a grin. “But I’m pretty sure they were both asleep before their heads hit the pillow.”
“Good. I don’t want to put Santa gifts out until they’ve been asleep for a bit, just to be sure.” I reach over and tug her next to me, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. “You killed it this Christmas, Tash.”
“Yeah?” She smiles up at me. “You think so?”
“I know so. I also know all of the extra work is what has you looking like you’re ready to pass out at any moment. It’s a lot of extra work.”
“I had no idea,” she admits softly. “All of the parties and programs at the school, and I’m telling you right now, if I never see another Christmas cookie in my life, it’ll be too soon.”
“You have close to a year to prepare yourself for next year.”
She groans and collapses on my chest.
“Let’s not think about next year yet,” she suggests. “I might not survive this year.”
“You’re doing great,” I assure her. “And it’s almost over. We’re in the home stretch.”
“Thank goodness.” She sighs and sips her wine. “The tree is nice, though. I like sitting here in the evening with the lights on. I’ll miss it when we take it down in a couple of days.”
“You could leave it up until New Year’s.”
“Nope.” She shakes her head. “I’m ready for this tiny house to be uncluttered.”
“I guess you’ll never be one of those ladies that has lots of curio cabinets full of knickknacks.”
“No. I don’t like clutter. I don’t think there’s any need to have a bunch of crap lying around that you have to dust.”
“Monica had all kinds of that stuff.”
“I know. And it’s still packed away in boxes because what do we do with it?”
“I don’t have a plan,” I admit softly. “But we’ll figure it out eventually. Maybe we’ll have an estate sale or something.”
“Someday,” she agrees.
“What’s your dream home like?” I ask, surprising both of us.