Page 109 of My Favorite Holidate
Thump, thump, thump.
Mac beams. “So it was a good party for you too?” she asks, but not in that lawyer-leading-the-witness voice. It’s said in a hopeful tone.
Oh, wait.
This isn’t merely Mac playing amateur matchmaker. Is she getting ideas? That this could be more than fake? I don’t want to disappoint her. Yes, I brought her in on it, but I never imagined she’d want it to be real.
Like you do.
I shake that thought off too. I have to stop this train before it leaves the station. “Mac,” I cut in before Fable can answer my daughter. “Why don’t you get ready for the sledding competition?”
She heaves a sigh but then shrugs. “Okay.”
She’s out of there, racing toward the cabin she’s sharing with the other kids. I scramble to take control of the day, the situation, everyone’s emotions. Mostly my own. With a fortifying breath, I look to Fable and say curtly, “You don’t have to go.”
If I see her at the sledding competition cheering on my daughter, it might do even more dangerous things to my heart.
But she must not care about my tone since she pats my chest. “You silly man. I want to.”
She spins on her heel and leaves, leaving me with these foolish holiday wishes.
We pack my car, the late morning air crisp and cold, the sun rising higher in the sky. “I can hardly wait for the competition,” Mac gushes. “I’m trained and ready.”
“You sure sound like you are,” Fable says. “But remember, winning isn’t everything. Just have fun.”
I blanch. “What did you say?”
Mac scoffs. “It’s not?”
As she slides into the front seat, Fable rolls her eyes and points to me. “You,” she says, a playful accusation. “This is all your doing.”
Mac laughs. “Just kidding, Fable. I know how to have fun. But I do want to practice. Practice is so important.”
As she buckles into the backseat, Fable looks to me and whispers, “She’s just like you.”
My heart thunders annoyingly over how dead on Fable is with her assessment. “She is,” I say softly, loving how seamlessly Fable fits in and how easily she understands my daughter and me.
Settle down. It’s temporary.
Well, no shit. Of course I know that. I mean she fits in well…temporarily.
That’s what I tell myself as we drive. We cruise through downtown, passing the shops on Main Street. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the toy shop, Play All Day. I need to stop in there later for something, when I can grab a minute alone.
We arrive at the sledding hill on the outskirts of Evergreen Falls. Families and individuals are already here, setting up their sleds, laughing, and chatting. Mac excitedly points out some of her friends and cousins who have also come for the competition.
With her gear in place, Mac points to the top of the hill. “I’ll get my practice runs in now,” she says then takes off, joining the other kids as they zoom down the hill.
At the base, Fable and I watch and by the time Mac begins her second run, Fable’s close to me, so we’re shoulder to shoulder.
I close my eyes for a quick second. Then, fuck it. I reach for her hand. She’s not wearing mittens right now, so our fingers slide together naturally.
Like we do this all the time. Hold hands as we…do life.
Temporarily,I remind myself.
When practice ends, Mac waves, a sign she’s ready to start. She turns and heads for the top of the hill. Fable squeezes my hand harder.
I sayfuck itonce more and press a quick, chaste kiss to her chilly cheek. A soft gust of air escapes her lips.