“Go right on ahead. I’ll get your bag and meet you outside by the car.” He headed toward my bag with all the vim and vigor of a man a fraction of his age while I answered the call from my dad.
“Hey, Holly. I saw your flight just landed. Did you find the driver I sent over?” My dad’s deep voice rolled through the phone.
“Yeah, he’s grabbing my bag now.” I slid my sunglasses over my eyes as I stepped out into the too-bright sun. Austin in December was a far cry from the winter weather I’d left behind in New York City.
“Great. We’re about to head over to meet the groom’s family for dinner. I trust you’ll be all right on your own until tomorrow?”
“Of course.” I might work for my dad’s hospitality management company, but I hadn’t seen him in person in almost two years. Shame on me for thinking he might put his plans on hold to give me a hug when I got to town.
“Let’s meet in the morning for coffee before the wedding events get started, shall we?”
“Sure, Dad.”
“I’ll see you then.” He disconnected before I could say goodbye. For the millionth time since I left New York, I wondered if I’d made a huge mistake by coming to Texas.
“Let me get the door for you, Miss Berry.” My driver opened the door to a black town car and gestured for me to slide in.
A blast of cool air hit my cheeks as I got settled on the cushy leather seat. The scent of peppermint drifted past, probably from the candy-cane shaped air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the window.
Five days.
I could survive spending the holidays in Texas, including enduring my stepsister’s wedding, if it meant getting face time with my dad. If I wanted the chance to carve out a section of the family business for myself, I didn’t have much of a choice.
2
ZANDER
“Happy Holidays, Mama Mae!” I crushed my foster mom against my chest and wrapped her in a huge bear hug.
“I can’t believe you came all the way home for Christmas, Zander.” She smiled up at me, her eyes as bright as the clear twinkle lights wrapped around the porch posts.
“You say that every year.” Pressing a kiss to her temple, I wiped a smudge of flour from her cheek. “I hope you didn’t start making the sugar cookies without me.”
“I wouldn’t dare.” She stepped back so I could enter the house where I’d spent the happiest years of my childhood.
My gaze swept over the familiar scene. A tall Christmas tree stood in the corner of the family room with dozens of gifts nestled underneath. It looked the same now as it had the day I arrived almost twenty years ago. Homeless and hopeless, I’d stood next to the county case worker on the big porch that Christmas Eve. Mama Mae had opened the door and welcomed me in like she’d been waiting just for me.
Though it took several months for me to appreciate it, my life had changed for the better that night. Ending up on Mama Mae’s porch had been the best possible thing that could have happened to me. I’d felt like I was at the end of the line, but really, it was just the beginning.
To thank her for taking me in that Christmas Eve, I’d made it a tradition to come back every year and help her make sure the boys who followed in my footsteps had something to celebrate.
“Can I get you some hot cider or something cold to drink?” Mama Mae untied her apron and draped it over her arm. “I was about to call the boys in for supper.”
“You don’t have to mother me anymore, Mama Mae.” I slung an arm over her shoulder. Though not even Father Time could slow her down, every year I came back she seemed to be a little smaller and look a little more tired around the eyes.
“Oh, I’ll always mother you, Zander. Along with all of my other boys I’ve taken care of over the years.”
I followed her through the dining room, past the huge oak table where I’d eaten too many meals to count, and into the kitchen.
“What smells so good?” The rich, savory scent of something roasting in the oven hung in the air.
“I made your favorite.” She grabbed a hot pad and pulled a perfectly browned roast out of the oven. “Now, why don’t you go tell the boys it’s time to eat?”
“Hold on a sec. I brought something for everyone. Let me grab it from my suitcase.” I’d wanted to make it home in time for dinner, so I hadn’t stopped by the hotel to drop off my bag yet.
“You shouldn’t be bringing gifts.” She followed me into the dining room and set the roast down at one end of the table.
The boys currently living with her filtered in from every direction and took their spots at the long table.